(1874-08-05) Puppies
Puppies.
Summary: Oh puppies. All the puppies. Puppies. Puppies. Puppies. Puppies. PUPPIES!
Date: 1874-08-05
Related: A meeting gone sour
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Salys  Imogen  Sylas  

The Keep. That Imperial Keep. So Imperial.
Provincial comfort, Imperial owners.
1874-08-05

It is in one of the rooms within the new Imperial outpost, Fort Darius? Fort Princeps? Fort something suitably Imperial, for those provincial names are certainly not something one would wish to sully ones tongue with, that's for certain. In such a room Sylas stands before a table, upon it a map of the region bearing no clear identifying marks other than the general area controlled by the Qatunax, everything is as mundane as one would expect from a map room, a room with a map. A room with a desk. A couch. Comfort indeed! And it is here that Sylas stands, eying the map with a gaze that is almost distant as he peruses Paras, or perhaps Paras is staring right back at him given the intrepid stare of an Imperial scout, doing obviously scouty things. At least, he appears lucid given he holds out a hand towards the direction he last heard Salys, "Is that my wine over there, barely out of reach dear sister? I hear we've a visitor coming to see us! One of the provincials. Such fun. She should knock in but a moment, or perhaps she won't. I bet a coin she doesn't knock."

And Imogen would indeed find herself escorted to that very room by a Imperial soldier. The door? To knock, or not to knock? That is the question.

Imogen is not uncultured, she's come dressed down….completely. It's hard to find some of her usual clothing, shirts and pants that would fit right at home in a common villaige, that are amenable to her five months pregnant form, but she managed and she's here knocking at the door. She didn't come with dovi's knowledge, let alone his consent, but unlike he and Jasmina, she doesn't have a stick up her ass and she isn't upset about paras. In otherwords, she's the only one who actually might be able to work with the imperials in helping free people being harassed and enslaved by qutanux, which is supposed to be the main focus, not pride or honour like her 'betters' seem to think.

So here she is, knocking at the door of the imperial stronghold….alone.

"Yes, yes, sweet brother. I'll fetch it!" Salys grabs up the bottle and Sylas' glass and saunters over towards her brother. She's wearing her black clad armor with bits of Imperial insignia smattered about. Still bits of her house's twin roses and daggers adorn her corset chest piece. A knock comes at the door and Salys smirks. "It looks to me you owe a coin, dear brother!" Salys giggles as she opens the door. "Oh, look!" She says to Sylas whilst looking at Imogen, "it's with child. Well, don't just stand there come on in. If you want a drink," she raises the bottle of wine, "I suppose I could water it down for you." With that out of the way she walks over to Sylas and hands him his glass, taking hers off the map table and trading it for the bottle she had in hand.

"Isn't it just!" Sylas replies as he turns to regard Imogen in all her glory, "Seems the natives are at the very least fertile, which given how often they seek to kill eachother with petty feuds, likely explains their rat-like ability to flood an area with offspring." Sylas smiles broadly, speaking as he does in nothing but the Imperial tongue for a moment, "What does it want sister?" His head tilts slightly as he steps about the table, the lopsided smile remaining etched upon his features as he takes a sip of his wine and gestures to the couch. Only then does he switch to that gutteral common tongue, "Imogen, the guards said, I confess I barely listened to the rest. But even so, do come in and tell us what ails you. Your liege too useless? Too foolish? Too stupid? We're here to help your kind." And with that said, he flips a coin towards his sister.

It's probably for the best they're speaking in imperial, and imogen doesn't really seem to care what they're saying, she knows it's about her….and likely derogatory, but what she doesn't know can't anger her, and right now she is TRYING /so hard/ for the common people of Hellsmouth that she can't afford personal insults. "Too proud," she corrects with a small smirk as she makes her way inside. "My husband and the archduchess are too honourable and proud to focus on what really matters. Right now, peoples whose safety i'm responsible for as countess are being enslaved by qutanux and my husband and his liege want to pull out because their prides have been insulted. So i'm here hoping we can actually work together to acheive the end goal that actually matters?" she offers calmly, notably she never refers to anything, lands or people, as hers, merely her responsibility, which might be notable, or might not depending on your point of view.

Salys chokes slightly on the sip of wine she takes, before clearing her throat with a humor filled, "Indeed, brother. More fodder for the Qatanux, I'm afraid." Salys doesn't speak this in imperial at all, she sticks to common, you know, to be polite. Hearing Sylas' question she asks bluntly. "What is it do you want? Imogen eh? This is Ludovic's woman," Salys grins, "you know, the one that didn't take kindly to your berry intrusion>" She snatches the coin out of the air and pockets it swiftly.

"Yes, do sit and tell us all of your troubles," the wine in hand is sipped once more as Imogen speaks. "Oh, I don't know. I rather liked Jasmina, she had a fire in her belly that too few have these days." The pregnant woman is afforded a smirk before Salys plops down on the couch and pats the center cushion. "Come now, we don't bite." The mention of her husband and Jasmina wanting to pull out makes Salys open her mouth, then promply shutting it deciding to just giggle to herself instead. "There is not any of us can do about your people and their idea of honor. Honor… it's is more like hubris." Salys snorts and drinks more of her wine, lounging back on the couch with her arm draped across the back .

"Well at least your husband didn't pull out a few months earlier, you are glowing truly." Sylas offers all too merrily as he settles on the outer edge cushion, leaving the centre cushion for Imogen, patted as it is by Salys, and soon also by Sylas, "Well not too often, we don't like to leave marks on our prey." The words following soon after Salys' mention of not biting, "But yes, that Jasmina was full of fire. Sparky one might say." A shrug is offered however and Sylas smiles up at Imogen, "Do make yourself comfortable, we are nothing if not generous hosts. Are we not dearest sister?" His wine once again sipped, Sylas exhales and sighs at the same time, "What I would give for a true Valescan red… mmm… so what do you have to offer? Your firstborn? Secondborn? I jest. Or do I? Do I sister? Jest?"

Imogen blinks a bit and chuckles as she moves to take the seat offered, she doesn't seem to have any hesitation in doing so, she's just not in the habit of barging in for a visit and taking a seat uninvited. Sylas' question of what she can offer does seem to get her interest though. "I can do you much better than a first born, I have horses and elementi for your assistance in seeing those that rely on my to help them relieved of their trouble. Yes i'm aware you have access to both, but rest assured, they won't be like mine will, I have a way with animals, I find them much preferable to people honestly," she muses with a small smirk. "Help me see those whose safety i'm responsible for rescued safely from qutanux and I'll give you first pick of both the elementi and horses," she offers to the pair, the words are cocky but, not bragging. She completely believes what she says, that her animals will be better than anything they can get elsewhere, even if the cost would be less dangerous.

Salys says, "Now now, brother, don't frighten to poor girl," Salys laughs heartily, "I wouldn't say we're the best hosts, but we are probably pretty gracious. I've never had the occasion to ask, to be frank," the wine in her hand is sipped once more before she reaches forward and nabs the bottle off the table in front of her, refilling their glasses she sets the bottle back down sits back once more. "If only it were the Val red…" She sighs also at the memory of home and those luscious grapes she cannot find here. A finely arched brow raises at the mention of those prized dogs. "Oh? I've always wanted one of those," Salys eyes Sylas waiting for perhaps his council on this matter.

"Then we shall have to get you one dear sister." Sylas states with a nod, as if nothing more was certain this day than that, "Rescuing your people will take time, and it will only be done with Imperial assistance. Is that not so sister?" The wine so swirled, Sylas eyes the sloshing grape-water with mild disdain, a brow furrowed and a lip curled in an instant, and yet it doesn't stop him from sipping at that foul stuff the locals call wine, "Perhaps a small pup for my sister and we'd offer a little extra to ensure success, the personal Therin touch one might call it. Until then there's little to talk of, those poor citizens suffering, wallowing under the brutality of their foul overlords. A small token would go a good ways to seeing… well… to ensuring a certain understanding." A smile is offered, almost feral in its glory, "A happy sister is an effective sister I have always thought. Though one might ask, are you referring to your people as a whole, or a specific group of people more easily tended to?" His green gaze drifts easily to seek Imogen's as he drapes his arm over the back of the couch behind her.

Imogen seems right at home talking to the imperials now, but a little interpersonal insight is all it takes to tell it's more the topic, animals, that have her relaxed than any familliarity with the siblings. "I'd be happy to offer you first pick of the elementi pups in return for your promise to assist in the rescue of those being enslaved by the qutanux. I'm not asking you to rush things, only that, in return for such tokens as I offer, you will be sure that they are safe as you make your way through the qutanux campaign," she says simply with a nod and small smile. "As it is, i've been taken off the front lines, I can no longer fight because my husband and his allies fear for the child, so I need someone out there who can look out for my goals, as apparently, pride and appearance matter more to Aequor than does our responsibility to those who swore service to us in return for our protection," her tone is a bit….dismissive, at least when discussing her pregnancy, one would think she'd almost perfer risking going into labour amidst battle than being waylaid like this.

Salys' smiles brightly for her brother at the mention of an Elementi pup and nods to his words on freeing people. "Yes, what seemed to be the issue with those we watched try to bully Darius yesterday, is that they seem to think they don't need us. If anyone knows how hard this enemy to kill, it is the Empire. You need us, your people need us. If not, we'll be fine with holding our line so that they cannot come after the Empire and leave you all to your own devises. Paras is better off with us holding its castle." That sweet wine is once again brought to her lips, savored heavily, and set back down onto a side table near the couch. "Oh, and I am very, very effective when I'm happy," a cheshire grin settles on her mien as she too looks to Imogen's face when Sylas brother questions her. "Oh darling, people are only as safe as they wish to be, I'm afraid. Though, I'm never opposed to helping people in need if I am able, if such a time I am, I would happily help out. Know this," she says seriously, "we of the Empire work to a common goal, what is best for the Empire. We will do, always, what our Princeps asks of us first. Then what is needed second, and what is for pleasure last, little one."

"Oh of that I cannot agree more, and the safety of these dear citizens is paramount, it does us no good to see those unfortunates harmed. Our only wish is to see our common enemy scattered and defeated utterly, they cannot be allowed to exist and those who serve them, those who have turned against their own people might well have done so for their own safety, but they cannot be trusted. Though every effort will be made, some may have to die, but I do promise they'll die quick little one." The term 'little one' no doubt a pleasing one given Imogen's present state, though Sylas smiles a broad smile, a smile that still manages to seem somewhat semi-feral in its way, "But those we free will be free once more to find the yoke of nobility thrust about their necks, such is your way. So it is agreed, one elementi pup for my dear sister. And we shall do our best to aid your people, for aiding you, aids us. A common enemy and all that." That said, Sylas drains the rest of his cup and sneers once more at the taste that lingers, "I suppose it is for the best, your no longer fighting, as graceful as you undoubtedly remain, there is a small life to watch over within that belly of yours. Yet even so, here you are, fighting for your people! Admirable!" Sylas intones merrily, a glint in his eye.

"Oh trust me, I know that responsibility has tiers, that's why I'm here, risking my husbands wrath, to speak with you," she remarks good naturedly to Salys. "But unlike them I'm aware that the only chance Aequor has to expel the qutanux is with Imperial help, and i hold none of the pride the rest of this country has, i'll tell you things just how i see it," she remarks, frank but good naturedly.

"I understand what you mean, and where you're coming from. I can't say i'm happy with the idea but you make sound logic that I don't have the smarts to argue against," she counters with a good natured grin and a nod. "As for what their fate is, frankly wether they join the empire or return to their lives in aequor is irrelevant, as their countess it is my responsibility to protect them, and failing that, to see them made safe once more, that is the only vow i made that matters at the end of the day," she says seriously her eyes gliding down to her stomach in thought. "But yes, a pup for my people, because pregnant or not, I will fight for them, even if their count and archduchess no longer will," she agrees, and there's a small, genuine even, smile on her face, but it's obvious she's not sure if Sylas' praise is double edged or not.

"A pup for your people, perhaps I could barter for a second pup? Should you ever seek to spice up your lineage with some good Imperial stock, do feel free to visit once you've popped out Ludovic's little sprog as I heard one of your kind call them. I'm sure we can come to a most satisfactory arrangement." A wink is offered, Sylas' lips quirked into a merry enough smile, though the cat-like gaze is full of mischief and likely one can hardly tell if he's joking or not. Much like the praise. Which is surely genuine. Absolutely so. Even so, Sylas idly sets his cup upon the arm of the couch, though without hardly any attempt at resisting his baser urges, he nudges the thing off the arm and to the floor with a frightful clatter. It was indeed much too much effort to reach and set the cup aside, "Such fire is good to see, truly!" And for once Sylas does truly seem almost genuine, if it wasn't for the glint that was everpresent in his green eyes, "They'll be safer for your visit, it warms our hearts that good sense remains in these parts, our hearts are warmed. Thoroughly."

Imogen laughs a bit at the push for a second pup but quite frankly, two pups to ensure the imperials will look out for her people is a ridiculously small sum, and while she's not stupid enough to point that out, it's probably why she's being so amenable to giving up the elementi. "Alas I am nothing but my husbands poor little wife, I have no power but what he gives me and i'm fairly sure I would be executed or tossed out were i to come back pregnant with an imperial child," she remarks, but she notably didn't turn down the offer either. A wry smile is eased out of her at what she's coming to see as Sylas' strange way of praise. "Well someone has to, we can't all be tripping over our pride and elite position, and who better than those of us who have no pride or power to speak of, no?"

"Oh, twin pups for the twins. How absolutely lovely would that be, brother? We've no need of horses, really. I think that would be a fine trade off, don't you?" She looks to Imogen, with a seemingly pleasant set to her features. "Sprog? Oh, what a silly little name for a babe," Salys snorts, brushing a bit of hair out of her eyes, shaking her head at Sylas as the cup clatters to the floor. "You just love making that woman, what was her name? Oh it doesn't matter, you love making her clean up," a small chuckle escapes the Therin woman's lips. "Oh indeed, it is good that at least one of you has a might bit of sense."

"Well she does so love cleaning dear sister, it is a shame to see her unburdened by stuff to clean, and this keep though far too comfortable, is devoid of the finer things home offers our fortunate… House." The word mulled over by Sylas as if he just ate something that is clinging to the roof of his mouth, "House. That's the word. But yes, we shall do as you ask. Such is the will of the Princeps, and the Emperor, and yourself." The smile returns, a hint of mischief ever lingering, "So do tell, given we've a need to know of how things truly fare. What of your dear husband's thralls? Lords? Are they content? I do hope none cause trouble. Such is the way with some people, they all fight for their own selves. Your husband has not suffered so I trust? Though pig-headed, he is loved by all who serve him yes? Our success hinges on a united front, linked as we are against this terrible foe. Would be good to know would it not dear sister? Any other questions for our dear Imogen? And truly? He would notice? Oh for shame."

Imogen just rolls her eyes at Sylas' 'mourning' that he can't impregnate her, he likely offers it to any woman who's legacy he seeks to 'improve' she figures. "Two pups it will be then, i just figured i'd point out horses were an option, there's certainly no pressure to take things you don't want," she offers good naturedly, snickering a bit to herself as they discuss there ever dutiful cleaning lady. "d'Bartone is my husbands main 'thrall' as you call them. He's a good man, stubborn and proud, very keen to see the qutanux thrown out of here, but unfortunately, also keen to see the imperials thrown out as well. I think though, he is reasonable enough to realise the temporary alliance is what's best for now and he's been rather quiet from what i've heard," she informs on the subject of vassal troubles.

"A soft snort escapes from Salys as she finishes her cup of wine, she looks over the pretty thing made of metal and raises a brow, setting it down close to her, probably for later acquisition. "Yes, how does fair your lands and every thing else he said?" She waves a hand towards Sylas in a 'yeah I wanna know too,' kind of way. "Oh, generally speaking, dear, we often take what we want. Here, everything is backwards. But I'm glad that people aren't so pushy as to make us take things we don't wish to have." A small chuckle escapes the woman's lips as she speaks of her husband. "We cannot afford to be too proud. Being puffed up gets one killed, little one."

Sylas nods faintly, idly leaning in against Imogen as she speaks, "Bartone? Sounds as if he is at least holding the line. Which is good. And who wouldn't wish to see us thrown out? A reminder of what could be once more. Those glorious days under one Emperor, days that even now are harder to recall at times. We're thankful our family home was in Valesca, else it is doubtful we'd be here now in your company." Leaning back once more, Sylas basks upon the couch and smiles that oh so typical smile, "Pardon me, d'Bartone, I always forget the duh, and isn't it just sister. Though at least we've found an ally in our glowing friend here, and quite true. Pride does rather end badly after a while. Though it can end in a myriad of ways, which is always intriguing to watch. You know that the fall is coming, you just don't quite know how it'll happen. Amusing every time. Painful, loud, screams are often loud, but sometimes it just fills you with a certain satisfaction. I am sure your fellow lords and ladies will learn soon, for if they don't, well." A shrug is offered all the same, as if to simply brush those backward thinking folk away with a simple gesture, "The Qatunax are truly unlike any enemy you've faced before, but that has oft been said. If only it was understood dear sister."

Imogen chuckles softly and nods agreeably. "It does, but I assure you that I have no such feelings, so if I can help with communication between yourselves and the kingdoms, do let me know," she offers gently with a small shake of her head. She's always been a fish out of water in Aequor, but maybe for once in her life that's actually working to her benefit, as these two don't exactly seem to appreciate traditional aequorians.

"As for the lands, i won't lie it's a bit of a struggle, qutanux have flooded two thirds of the county and paras is currently in imperial hands. Do you think the Princeps would be agreeable to opening trade relations? I only ask as it's a great agricultural source for the county, and in return we can offer cattle and horse, as we used to," she explains, but unlike Dovi there's no great pressure in her voice, merely a suggestion before she moves on as if it was never brought up.


"The peasantry would weep at our return, they'd be citizens instead of just plain peasants. I assure you, we know our presence isn't ideal but more necessary." Salys sighs heavily, "I do so miss home." Her tone seems genuine enough though she turns to smile at Imogen, "So. When can we expect our bundles of joy, and I don't mean your babe, we aren't heathens?" She laughs heavily, as she recalls being called just that the night before. "Oh brother, if they only knew what sort of Abyss they have at their doorstep, they would not play games with our dear, sweet Princeps. I still owe him that bottle of wine, come to think of it." Salys winks at Sylas and settles a feline grin to her mien. "Oh, sweet Imogen, I am not sure that trade is in the Princeps purview. I do believe that's Pompey's job… Oh, I don't know. Can't keep them straight these days. There is a diplomate somewhere that handles all of that business. Though, perhaps I can slip a name in this tradesman's ear if I come across him or her… Maybe you can just, talk to Darius and offer him a puppy. That might help." The look on Salys' face is indiscernible as to if she's kidding or not.

Sylas grins just as merrily as Salys as he speaks, "Though it would be nice to know when your bundle of joy is due…" A shrug, a glint, a warm smile, and a shift upon the couch as he lounges in a most feline manner, idly glancing over the arm of the couch to spy his fallen cup, "Oh how short-sighted of me." Reaching out a hand towards the cup, one might almost expect him to be sorcerous, and yet the cup remains where it landed and never moves a single inch. It just stays put, like a good pet! Albeit an inanimate one. Again Sylas shrugs and settles back, "Oh Darius would adore that, to see him fussing over such a little bundle. It would be too sweet, sickly even. Might soften him for certain, to certain things." He laughs, a bright and warm laugh, a merry burst of raucous laughter that is as swiftly over as it began, "Oh such a good thought dear sister, I am sure a word from you would see that word trickle to the right ear, our words do trickle so. My dearest sister's trickle far better than mine, they are certainly more honied and better received." Sylas states, leaning forward to wink at his sister just so, before settling back once more in his most languid of manners as he looks to Imogen, "But know this sweetling, such a word is only offered because you asked it, not your husband. We have yet to like him."

Imogen laughs softly and grins as Sylas' offer and confession that she is liked. "You flatter me, and it warms my heart that you like me, for in spite of what my husband said of you I also find you quite agreeable," she replies, and the words are meant for both twins, thank the one she didn't hear their little imperial talk when she first arrived! "Well the elementi females are already pregnant, but they take a ridiculously long time to gestate, still i'd be happy to show them to you so that you know my word can be trusted," she offers with a small blush, one only knows why elementi, unlike regular dogs, take a full year instead of two months.

"I would indeed appreciate if you could put me in contact with the right people, but only if you wish to do so. You've been far more kind than I ever expected and I am grateful for it," she admits quietly, in a gentle, girlish sort of way. She doesn't do diplomacy, she can only speak what she thinks, and though a bit awkward, it is at least very easy to tell her intentions and honesty when she speaks. "Though if all the princeps requires is a pup himself to think well of me, i should be happy to provided, elementi's are lovely and gentle creatures….though I am horribly biased about them," she muses with a grin.

"Oh yes, that too," she says of the babe, though absently like an afterthought. "Darius would just love a noble pooch, indeed," still can't tell if she's being serious or not, as stale as her tone is. "As for honied words?" Salys switches to perfectly silky Imperial, "Don't you just know it brother, everything goes down better with honey." She blows Sylas a kiss and laughs, switching back to common for her guest. "Oh yes, your husband isn't worth too much to me. He's all bluster and no… well anything. He doesn't impress me." Salys sniffs.

"Ah, well, we aren't always nice. We do appreciate a good sense of humility and perhaps a touch of graciousness. Never confuse a might bit of respect for kindness and you'll never be disappointed." A word to the wise perhaps? Salys shrugs and toys with the glass near her hand. "Oh, the Princeps would indeed love a puppy, my dear. I don't have any doubt about that. He's a gentle soul himself." The Therin woman wrinkles her nose a bit at the thought.

It is with something of a lopsided grin that Sylas listens to his sister's Imperial words, the kiss so caught and gently patted against Imogen's belly, "An Imperial blessing for the babe." Sylas grins, his own tongue remaining that of the coarser Common tongue as he rises up from the couch, stretching and rolling his shoulders so as he moves to nudge the cup with his foot to someplace the servant can likely pick up from later, and only after does he speak, "Oh we trust you, your word is more than enough for us sweetling, is it not sister dearest? And besides, it is easy to tell when a creature of good breeding stock is both enduring its present litter with robust health, and having given its litter so ably, quite so.", Sylas' green gaze drifts back to Imogen's stomach for a brief moment, before lifting to seek Imogen's own gaze, "There is truly something special about an elementi, such remarkable creatures, the Princeps will be most pleased. And his pleasure is no easy feat to obtain, and so true, my dear sister's words need little embellishment from me. It will shall be a delight to inform the Princeps of this gift. But yes, is there anything else we can do for you Imogen?"

Imogen chuckles softly and smiles, a bit uneasily as she rises from the couch, thinking of how delicately she can put her next words. "The only other thing I ask, is that, if it's no inonvenience, you not mention to my husband or the Archduchess I was ever here. While it's not illegal as we are allies, I can not imagine either would be very pleased, and it would make my life a bit easier. As you've both said you have no love for my husband, I should hope this wouldn't be too big of an issue?" she asks and though she doesn't /precisely/ need their silence, as she said, it would just spare her headaches, and arguments.

Salys bites her lip gently as Sylas snatches her blown kiss and pats Imogen's belly. "Indeed. Consider it so!" She watches as he kicks the cup to rest under some hard to reach place for the poor cleaning women to grab later. "I believe her word, for now, is certainly enough, brother." There's a small chuckle that meets her lips when he speaks of a puppy for the princeps. Though her gaze reaches for Imogen as she rises. "Listen closely, little one, our Princeps will know of this meeting, if he tells us not to lie we will not do so, however we promise to not offer that information freely. If he gives us leave to lie, then lie we shall. Is that understood, it is the best we can possibly give?"

Sylas nods at his sister's words, "Given the lack of respect your husband has shown, I believe your life shall be quite free of headaches, we have need of good allies be they warriors or strong mothers, much of the same thing regardless." Sylas intones, having nudged the cup someplace awkward and suitable to his tastes, "No information of worth slips from our tongues freely." A crooked smile is offered, a nod soon following, "Oh let me gaze upon you once more though, truly you glow!" Both hands held out before him as he takes in the sight of the Aequorian noblewoman before him, "Truly sister, I need nephews and nieces. Nephews and nieces!"

Imogen can't help but laugh good naturedly at Sylas' praise, but she enjoys the attention a little bit, it's nice being complimented after all! "Of course, I would never seek to sow discord between yourselves and your princeps," she offers to Salys when she voices her concern on keeping it quiet, but Imogen seems content to not push on the matter really, just voice her concern. "I thank you two for being gracious hosts, but I should get back, lest they panic i'm on the front lines again," she jests.

Salys nods along as Sylas talks of Imogen's husband. "Indeed, we know the strength and worth of both. A mother wanting the best world for the child is no different than the warrior that fights for it." She shakes her head no to Sylas' words on their information giving. "Oh, brother. How about you find me a strong man with good stock to give you such progeny. I can think of one or two, or perhaps you can make some of your own. Perhaps you already have," Salys winks at Sylas and titters merrily to herself.

"Oh, go on with yourself," she waves off to Imogen, "do let us know when we can expect our own bundles of joy, hmm?" She giggles lightly and turns away from Imogen, trusting her brother to see the woman out.

"Not a one dearest sister!" Sylas replies as he moves to open the door and lean rather languidly against its edge, the door holding his idle weight as he grins at Imogen, "We do so look forward to hearing from you, and know you've at least repaired some harm done by those who came before you." The smile broadens easily, those green eyes just full of mischief, "Safe journey Imogen, now go on. Off with yourself. I fear I can't continue using this tongue of yours for much longer, I pine for the dulcet warmth of the mother tongue." A tongue that Sylas slips into easily as the warmth of the Imperial language slips from his lips, "And there she goes dear sister, aren't the provincials such fun…" A faint pause follows as he simply says one word, again in Imperial, "Puppies." And there waiting at the door is one of those Imperials from before, ready to escort Imogen away and safely so.

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