Welcome to Gaia! ::

At a corner table, a young nobleman was nursing the same drink he had started the evening out with. This was not to say that he was cheap. Indeed, he had quite the fortune to his name and he was not miserly. Instead, he simply took care not to lose his wits. It did not pay to be careless in his position.

His companion - or rather, one of his informants - had just left and now Kit found himself alone. He considered going home, but found that he was not in the mood for solitude just yet. So, he took another sip of his wine and tapped his foot to the raucous song. Though he was not participating in the song, he was watching the singers with an easygoing smile. One in particular was especially lively, his slightly off-tune crooning audible over the other voices. It was this man that he focused on.

The drunken singer's face was a familiar one inasmuch as a stranger who frequented the same club could be considered familiar. The spy knew him to be fond of drink and gambling alike, and perhaps he was a little more careless than one in his position ought to be, but the extent of his knowledge ended there. Despite similar status, their social circles did not often intersect. Kit leaned carelessly back in his chair, wondering whether it was time to change that.

As the strains of conversation drifted to him, Kit eyed the man with renewed interest. Of course. How could he have forgotten. Paul was one of those rumored to possess a deer - a guardian, if such a thing could be believed. Then again, no one that he knew of had actually seen the fabled buck. Still. The novelty alone was enough to make him curious.

At worst, he will have wasted an empty evening on a wild goose chase. At best, he will have gleaned valuable information from the man. Kit debated the wisdom of giving the man another drink - he really did look like he just might pass out with a few more sips - but ultimately shrugged and made a stop at the bar on his way over.

He set the drink in front of the man and settled himself in the chair across from him.

"Good evening," he said. "I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting before. I'm Kit Blackthorn."

"The pleasure's all mine, I'm sure," he demurred with a half-bow of his own. If he had not been able to tell just how drunk the man was by his behavior or the number of empty glasses before him, the smell would certainly have been a good indicator. But he had smelled much worse from other...acquaintances in the past. He did not even wrinkle his nose.

"I keep seeing you here, but we've never spoken. Seemed time to fix that." See? No pretense here. Just honest and straight to the point. Nothing hidden. Nothing at all. There really was an art to deception. The science was nine parts truth, one part falsehood, but the art, well, that was all in the way it was carried out. It took a certain finesse. Of course, Kit really was being straightforward tonight. For the most part. He would be perfectly forthright about what he wanted to talk about, he simply wouldn't mention every little detain of his motivation.

"Though I do admit," he continued. "I haven't seen you here as often of late."

When the other man relaxed, Kit lounged in his own chair, looking like nothing so much as an over-grown cat. He crossed his ankles and took another sip, ignoring his companion's behavior.

"Yes," he agreed. "They can be difficult to manage from town."

When Paul continued, however, Kit offered him an obviously expected expression of curious interest. The man obviously wanted to talk. Who was he to deny such a thing?

"And who is this Samael to have such an influence on you?"

Kit raised his brow. "Is that so?"

At least the rumors had been confirmed by the object of them. Of course, there was no real proof without the guardian in question, but it was something.

There was every possibility that there was no guardian at all. Or, even if there was, it could just be a deer. There were clever animals to be found in the Wardwood. It was not impossible that Paul had found one and raised it, deciding to call it a guardian to attract attention to himself. Admittedly, it did seem unlikely. This foppish nobleman did not strike Kit as the type to care about animals...or much of anything but himself, really. At the very least, Paul did not seem likely to go to the bother of taming a wild animal.

The alternative, however, seemed less likely. A true guardian? A beast from old legends some to life? The spy was admittedly dubious. Even assuming guardians did exist, why would one choose Paul of all people?

"I've heard the stories, of course, but I've never seen one myself. Where is this guardian of yours?"

"More's the pity," he said. Paul sounded like a man tied to his estate by his bride, though considerably less happy about the fact than a new husband might have been.

Regardless, it looked like Kit would have no definitive proof that the man did, in fact, have a guardian. A disappointment, but he would just have to live with it.

"But apparently you can at least visit town, with or without him. He doesn't need your attention?"

((No worries. Being sick has that effect.))

"Oh?" Kit took another sip of his drink, wondering how much longer until the man passed out and he was out of a conversation partner.

"That sounds like a fine sport." Not precisely a lie. He had never much cared for hunting himself, but he knew that most found it enjoyable enough. To him, such an event would be more about the socialization. It was amazing what one could learn during a hunt.

"At your estate, I assume?" A chance to meet the alleged guardian, if he were to go. Assuming that the mention of the event could be interpreted as an invitation. Though he did have to wonder about a chosen hunting for deer. Seemed a bit...odd, to put it lightly. Perhaps he intended a hunt for fowl or fox.