07.08.3013: Speaking Terms
Summary: Following up on a peculiar story he was told, Jor requests a meeting with Sir Nikomachos Cindravale, for his account of it.
Date: 08 July 2013
Related: None posted.
Nikomachos Jor 

Valen Military Camp
Tents. People. Armaments. Horses.
July 8, 3013

Nikomachos has just returned from a cavalry sweep, a few new scratches and scrapes on his armor, but apparently none-the-worse-for-wear. He has passed off his horse and lance to his squire, and doffed his helmet, clipping it onto the right hip of his armor. He looks for the man somewhat out of place in the Valen encampment, moving over towards him and inquiring, "Mister Aeldan? I'm Sir Nikomachos. Sorry that I'm late. It took a bit longer than I expected. We ran into a bit of trouble."

He'd waited a reasonable amount of time for recovery, after the battle on Primus, the time based on the relative health of someone with whom he had frequent contact that had also been there. The request had been sent roughly two days after the Hostile sortie, and Jor had made it clear from the start in his communication that the cybernetic entities was the subject in question. For that matter, he had questions, also a point he made note of in his communication.

The hard part had been deciding what to wear, funny enough. He'd dithered over it for a time, and in the end Jor had settled on the duds that a certain noble had purchased for him out of gratitude, sporting that waistcoat, gray vest, and going for the gentleman's look, sans cane, top hat, and monocle.

"Thank you for seeing me on short notice. I'll try to keep the interruption brief," his soft bass intones, holding out a hand, quite at odds with the penetrating stare you get. "However, I'm told you're one of several witnesses to this event, so here I am, and I'll get right to the point." He doesn't even pause before bringing that out: "Talking Hostiles?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow upwards. "I'd appreciate hearing /your/ account."

"I have to admit, I'm not the most knowledgeable when it comes to the Hostiles. I heard rumors of it in the Spine and on Niveus, and my brother apparently encountered one on the Plains." Nikomachos rolls his shoulders, gesturing over toward a nearby field tent, "Would you like something to drink?" Letting that question aside for a moment, he continues, "I've reviewed helmet footage, of course, but you would be positively amazed at how long battle can be."

He may be a bit out of place as far as dress code goes, Jor Aeldan, but if he feels any discomfort, it shows not on his face. "I'll be fine without a drink, thank you. I suspect you'll need as much of it as you can get," he adds with a faint hint of amusement. To battle durations, he says nothing. Instead: "How widespread is the incident? Hearing about something that isn't, to my knowledge, common knowledge?" A pause there, to go with the inquisitive tone and raised brow. "The idea that the Hostiles are… communicative in our language, frankly disturbs /me/."

Nikomachos shakes his head, "Six Above… I meant to say 'loud.'" Shaking his head as he leads the way into the tent, "If you'll excuse me, I could use some water. I'm parched." He pours chilled water into a glass from an ewer, "I don't know how widespread it is, Master Aeldan. I've only heard of the three incidents, and the little that I've heard, it was only a single Hostile each time." Taking a sip of his water, he continues, "I wish I could tell you more, I can provide my own helmet footage if you'd like, but I wasn't anywhere near the event — if it even occurred."

"The part of me that used to work with the Watch - that was a long time ago - says I'd be a fool not to accept that offer, the footage I mean." Jor's mouth twitched at the part where you correct yourself, but he lets the slip go by without comment. "I have a little experience in these matters, so I thought I'd see if I could do something useful." A twitch of his lips upward.

Nikomachos arches his eyebrows slightly in question at the mention of 'The Watch,' but doesn't push that question, instead going for, "I'll pass the file along to your comm-code." He takes another sip of the water, "So how was it that you got my name, Master Aeldan?" A touch of laughter rises to his lips, "My Father may be Knight Commander, but I didn't know that I had become known as a source of knowledge on the Hostiles."

There's again a quirk of the lips on this hard-eyed man, mollifying his visage a pinch. "Lady Talayla Orelle mentioned you when she described the incident to me. I'm cross-referencing the incidents. What was said. To whom. Patterns. So whatever data you have is better than none, Sir. I think your father the Knight Commander will agree that anything we can get on the Hostiles is of use."

Nikomachos nods his head, "Lady Talayla handled herself quite well for an amateur." His pauldrons rise and fall with a glitter of bronze and gold, "It was a pleasant surprise, actually." He looks up and down the big man, "You said you were in the Watch. Are you planning to re-enlist in the Watch to help defend Haven?" As he waits for the response, the knight finishes off his glass of water, refilling it from the ewer.

"I haven't decided." His answer is ready enough; he's considered the notion… and rejected it for 'reasons', reasons which naturally aren't vocalized. He also doesn't comment on the subject of Talayla's involvement in the fighting, though there's a brief thinning of his lips he can't stop all the same. "I don't think my skills would be best served trying to rejoin the Watch, Sir. There's a personal matter involved in that, I'm afraid. Doesn't mean I can't be of use in other ways, so here I am. You won't be the last person I question either."

Nikomachos nods his head slowly, "Father always says that logistics and intelligence are half of a battle." The other half, or course, being a gorgeous cavalry charge. "Although I know that the Academ already has specialists on the Hostiles. Do you intend to join them, Master Aeldan?" By his tone, he's not trying to pry, just inquiring politely. After all, you have to inquire about the other person's interests too.

Jor's eyebrows furrow together, his lips turning down in a frown for an instant's time. "That's actually not something I had thought of. I'll have to look into that, if I have time. I get the feeling my place won't end up with them, though, if some people have their way," he adds with more hints of amusement quirking his lips. "You see, I was trained more for fighting much as you have; I just chose to put those talents to assist the Watch, rather than one of the Houses. It's a longer story than I think we have time for, but those are the important points."

Nikomachos nods his head slowly, "You have the look of a fighter. So we're talking about some sort of roving expert, experiencing what you can of the Hostiles and passing your theories up to the scholars at the Academ? I would say that most House forces would not like such a freelancer working alongside them, but I have a feeling that once this second wave arrives, they will not worry too much exactly where you are sworn, just whether or not you can contribute to the defense of Haven."

"Precisely, Sir." That twitch of amusement grows, transforming now into a full blown smile. It does not last long, however, as Jor returns to more austere severity shortly thereafter. "Freelancer or not, though, this will probably be the only chance some of us get for study before we're forced, one way or another, into the conflict. I don't have any illusions about being shoved into the fray for myself, but I would much rather it be on my terms, and those one of those is to have a proven track record. I have some experience in investigating matters; this seems like a matter to investigate," he concludes dryly.

Nikomachos nods his head, "Well, I do wish you the best of luck. I'll send that file along as soon as I get back to the Fortress. My brother, Sir Erik, was the one at the center of it, however, so if you want the unvarnished account, you might seek him out." He reaches inside his helmet with one hand, pressing a hidden button, "AI, location of Sir Erik." The AI does not respond verbally, instead popping up a patrol schedule from the holoprojector in his bracelet. Looking back to Jor, he adds, "He should be returning in about two hours."

"I believe I will do just that," the older man replies. "I appreciate the assistance, thank you. I have nothing further, so I'll quit consuming what time you may have left for your own matters." He'll offer a semblance of a bow as well, accompanying the deep inclination of his head. Even after all these days, it's still a habit to follow protocols of etiquette as though he still had his title. "Oh, yes," he'll say, after turning. "I understand congratulations are in order."

Nikomachos nods his head in response to the half-bow, "I will let him know that you're looking for him." The final comment draws another nod, "Thank you, Master Aeldan. Good day."

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