The Heart Of Ruhir

[Malchik]

OOC> Group B comprises atm Titanania, Kheskeim, Werewolf, Theta, Morgoth and Ixnos.

 

Drawn by proclamations of the need for adventurers to help save Bashkher you assemble as requested in the audience chamber of Bharat Desani. It is a large room capable of seeting fifty or sixty and he seems disappointed to see you are so few in number.

 

Bharat is tall for a Bashkheri. He wears a beige robe with the hem embroidered with colourful geometrical designs. He also has an unusual conical hat with coloured ribbons hanging from it. All in all he looks slightly comical but the expression on his face and in his eyes make it quite clear that he is a man used to wielding power.

 

He looks you over carefully registering every detail.

 

"Well, you are to save us, if saving is needed?" He smiles. "I have already sent off one party but we have a second problem that needs investigation and that is where you come in."

 

He rises and goes to look out of the window into the street below.

 

"Bashkher has many temples. Some would say too many. In Antinapura for instance you could be forgiven for thinking they outnumbered the houses. Since the incursion of the alien magic from Kellimond an evil seems to have awoken in our temples. People talk of hearing strange voices, maniacal laughter, feeling sudden unexplained drops in temperature and hearing things moving inside locked vaults."

 

He turns to look at you. "Superstition? Hysteria? Overwrought imagination? Certainly in some cases but not, I think, in all. Disturbances have been reported in Ippikander, Dohoti and Golconar among other places. Those three are best documented. But before you go rushing off there I have noticed one particular thing about all these reports."

 

He sits at the desk and stares at you again. "The Bashkheri of today were not the first civilisation here. If our oral history is to be believed, the original settlers discovered evidence of an early civilisation. Little remained above ground but there were several buildings below ground level. For reasons only our ancestors could have told you they were presumed to be temples and they were developed as temples again. It is in these eight temples - though not all of them - that the disturances are most apparent. That is where I think you must start."

 

He pushes a parchment across. "Here are the names."

 

Bharat sighs: "There is little to go on. I have searched our city archives without success. However there is another library of very old and precious books at the Sun Temple here in Papred. I think you must try there before you set off anywhere."

 

Suddenly he is businesslike. "Now I believe you know too little about each other to have yet decided what you are capable of, what equipmet you have and what might be lacking. I have made reservations for you in the Garden of Paradise for two nights. When you have put your belongings into your room meet in the tavern area to discuss what you need. Let me know tomorrow and while you are at the Sun Temple I will fund the acquisition of all you need. Now take the list of temples."

 

There is a copy of the parchment for each of you. The names are arranged alphabetically in the order of the cities they are in.

 

Antinapura - the Temple of the Sun

Dohoti - the Jade Temple

Golconar - the Temple of Dancing Waters

Ippikander - the Skull Temple

Kolokon - the Temple of Freedon

Lopor - the Star Temple

Papred - the Sea Temple

Veejani - the Snake Temple

 

With a sweep of his arm Bharat ushers you from the room, across the street a little way north towards a very big building. Soon you are leaving your belongings in your rooms and making your way to the tavern.

 

OOC> Please produce the two documents I requested, elect your decision notifier and get that individual to notify me when you are ready to move on.

[ThetaOrionis01]

Kyrika sips the hot, sweet tea she has learnt is the best way to still her thirst in this hot climate.

 

She casts furtive glances at the others she first met in the audience chamber. As the youngest among them - she assumes - it isn't proper for her to address the others. But she can observe.

 

How, she wonders, did they all come to be here? Perhaps she'll find out. For now, though, it feels good to have a purpose. The task they have been given - it intrigues her. And it doesn't sound too difficult.

 

'If only this place wasn't so hot!' she sighs inwardly, not letting her discomfort show. And that thought is quickly followed by another. 'Would you rather go back to Nyobi? You know what they'd do to you there, don't you?'

 

Her thoughts drift back to those terrible first few days and nights after escaping from her sister's house. Hunted, always glancing over her shoulder to watch out for pursuit. Shifting shape into that of an owl, and spending nights up in the safety of tall trees rather than risking being captured in her sleep. Buying passage on boats sailing downriver, always fearful of being recognised. Crossing the border into the neighbouring province - easy enough with the papers she forged, but so nerve-wracking nevertheless. And even there she couldn't stop running, couldn't feel safe. Sabayi's husband had too much influence, and there had been enough in the secret documents in his office to make her deeply uneasy.

 

'I'm safe here,' she reminds herself. 'They cannot have followed me. How would they - if I don't even know how I left Nyobi!'

 

She takes another sip of the fragrant sweet tea, and waits for one of the older members of the group to speak first, as is only proper.

 

'I hope they don't think that I will be a useless addition to the group. Even though I am sure I am the least well-prepared of them - they all look like proper adventurers to me, and to them I probably look just like a child who should be at home playing with her dolls...'

[ixnos]

OOC: man I miss Fst reply already :P

 

 

 

Kane leant more than stood against one of the walls as Bharat was informing them of their task, due to him leaning and his arms crossed, no one could tell he was 6ft 2" tall. He seemed calm and casual yet it was only till one of the scribes passed him the parchment that he noticed Kane had dozed off, he nudges him and annoyingly passes him the parchment, Kane smirks reading the parchment before tilting his head to the left hearing a crack and then tilting it to the right hearing several cracks. He stands tall and unfolds his arms revealing himself to the rest of the group...He wouldn't be the first one to hand in the documents, he'd rather allow someone else do that before placing his in.

 

 

He glances around the tavern, noticing a Nyobian female, he nods to her but says nothing, Kane was a mercenary and his boss had sent him to Bashkher to find out about the disturbances, his boss only wanted information but had allowed Kane to stick around so he could claim a reward if one is presented, he walks up to the bar keep and orders a mug of ale, placing several coins on the counter, he then blurts out without thinking.

 

"Some assignment for an atheist...temples, psh...believing in myself is more powerful than believing in something that don't exist"

 

Kane finds a table within a dark corner, sitting within the chair and placing his feet upon the table while drinking his ale...while he was here he was going to relax since the only time he didn't need to relax would be in battle, he was a fighter so didn't know about magic, only that with the right moves he could take down a magic user in minutes, more or less the same method for taking down archers. For Kane he depised magic users but this is due to only having bad experiences with them, he just hoped the rest of the group would give him a positive side of magic users, if any magic users consisted within their group.

[Morgoth]

Although he has spent three days already in this city, Chacahau's feeling of uneasiness shows no sign of growing less. The dry heat as opposed to the humid atmosphere of his home country continues to afflict him, giving him the constant feeling of dehydrating in the unfamiliar climate. Yet suspicious of everything surrounding him, which is all so unknown and different from the environment he is used to, he has not left his gear in one of the rooms, but is carrying everything with him. The staff of his spear - which he cannot hold in his hand all the time nor put anywhere on his body - is leaning at a nearby wall.

 

He takes sips from his waterskin all the time, suspiciously eyeing all parts of the tavern they are in. The past days have already brought him quite a number of unpleasant experiences reaching from unwanted quarrels due to his misunderstanding of local customs to being taunted for his manner of speaking.

 

As he is currently completely ignorant of who the other people at the table are and how they behave, he decides to wait a bit until the others start a conversation and leave the first hints as to their characters. One of them, an extraordinarily tall man whose look reminds him of the fierce beasts that had been spotted in the jungle during the last months before his departure, has already gained his distrust by speaking blasphemously about the great gods protecting the world from being shattered to pieces - however, he has decided that embarking on that topic would be unwise at the moment.

 

Besides, Chacahau cannot decipher clearly the names of the places listed on the piece of parchment he has been handed out by Bharat, so he has no idea where they will have to head to execute their orders. Ere he makes an exhibition of his own honourable person by revealing his ignorance, he rather intends to wait until he has gathered sufficient facts to participate in the conversation as though he has no informational deficit.

[WereWolf531]

Almost dozing off, Khyros sits in a corner of the bar, playing his guitar in an attempt to make some spare change. Used to the cool waters of Shallara, the heat is almost unbearable to him. Trying to recover from his heat-induced stupor, he lifts his eyes and observes some of the others around the bar. His gaze pauses upon an agile-looking Jourtresian. He had once read a book about the region, but didn't expect to encounter someone from there. He thought about going to talk to him, but then realized that he didn't know much anything about Jourtresian culture. Fearing that he might make the wrong first impression, he returned to looking around the room.

 

He then saw another Jourtresian, this one sitting in a corner with a mug of ale. Judging by his imposing appearance, Khyros reasoned that this man was a fighter. Making a mental note to look up Jourtresian culture so he could talk to these people, he continued to look around the room.

 

He next saw a Nyobian. He remembers a little about Nyobians, but unlike with Jourtresians, he doesn't feel that he can make too big a mistake in conversation. Deciding he would go over and speak with her as soon as he finishes this song, his gaze returns to his guitar. "I just hope I don't fall asleep from this heat first..." he thinks.

[Kheskeim]

ooc: holy crap sorry for the length of this... if needed I will trim it, just too tired to do so now. If you dont want to know what happened to him on the way to Papred, just skip this and jump to the audience chamber part and onwards. Two docs to come.

 

[Kheskeim]

 

****** Preface to Papred ******

 

It had been seven days since he left the Valantius keep and without a doubt it had been the worst and most difficult days of his young life. Many a curse had left his mouth since then, most of them directly at his parents but most he met had been treated as if they had something to do with his misery and misfortune too.

 

Little had he known about the ways of the world outside the court; or maybe he had known or heard about most of it, but either he hadn't cared or couldn't believe it before he actually saw it. It was dirty everywhere! People were dirty, had absolutely no courtesy and spoke a crude version of the language; and even then, they had treated him as if he had been a mirror showing their ugly reflection! He couldn't believe it and he already hated the outside world. Although he did cherish his freedom, being able to do what he pleased, when he pleased it.

 

Had he known more of their way of life out in the country, he would probably have worn something to hide his shining armour, shield and weapon. In his spite he had thought to intimidate everyone by showing the black gauntlet of their family crest and of course to entice any normal people to seek his company. His initial plan had been to find equals of nobility or maybe slightly less than that and either find a way to get out of his so-called quest of valour or at least get some foothold here in the "wild". Maybe they could even be hired or simply aid him. Needless to say, he didn't meet any nobles on the way; not any that either looked or behaved it anyway. Soon he'd know exactly why.

 

At a crossroad Inn he had halted his directionless journey to rest and refresh. His muscles had been sore from the unusual amount of riding, especially since the countryside had been rough at times. His horse probably needed the rest too - not that he cared much.

The inn was far from his hopes of a clean hospitable safe haven with good food, wine and a comfy bed. He found neither, instead it was just as dirty as other places he'd seen, filled with drunken riffraff and below poor entertainers. The food was mediocre and the wine undrinkable. "Could they do nothing right out here?" he'd thought. To worse his experience the crowd was giving him a bit too much attention to his liking, so he hurried with the food and left without giving any tip and without giving the comfort of the beds a chance to be any better than the rest.

 

Kheskeim was waylaid at the first coming bend. He recognised one or two from the Inn along with some murkier fellows. It was nothing dramatic - they forced him off Harmsway and just took everything they had a use for. He didn't stand a chance, having packed his armour and weapon into one of his packs because they were much too cumbersome to wear in the heat. His knife had stayed nicely in its sheath and even though he had wanted to shout a lot of degrading curses at his way layers, he had seen the wisdom in staying as quiet as possible and not even chided them. It seemed to keep them from harming him; in fact they didn't even take his fine clothes. Armour and weapons had no value to them, fortunately none of them was or knew a smith that could melt the metals he had thought - or maybe they were just satisfied with the, to them, incredible amounts of gold.

All family jewellery, all his gold and some shiny items in his bags together with his food and wineskin were the loot of the day. Unfamiliarity with horses in the lesser people of the wild meant he kept Harmsway too.

This has been part of my parents plan all along... why didn't they tell me to go incognito? Ah, may the blackness of their hearts consume them! was his thoughts on the matter.

 

He had sped up after the incident. Threatening or intimidating people to inform him, he found a pawnshop, in which the owner luckily had no cripes in exchanging his highly ornamented and extravagant shield for some common clothes, a black cloak, some dirty boots and a bit of gold. He wasn't really sad about leaving his shield behind; he hated that too and was not very good at using it - furthermore he saw this exchange as a life and death situation now that he was stripped of wealth.

Poor mans only wealth is his life he remembered from a poem, he didn't much like but had been forced to read.

 

Upon entering Papred he was terrified. He'd seen the grand city from afar and had gotten a very good feeling about it. It looked wealthy, clean and some structures had many resemblances to his home. Alas, it was as dirty as the riffraff’s underwear, at least in the outskirts. He had to kick people away from touching his horse or trying to grab his things from behind him. He even rode a beggar down, just because he was in the way and maybe to prove a bit of a point to the others. He didn't care about them and just wanted to find men of merit, men of power; there simply had to be some of those here.

 

He found the better part of town and used his remaining gold to lodge in for a couple of nights and stable his horse. Finally a meal above average was served to him and the clean cutlery almost made him smile. He left his items in his room and began to explore the district in search for ways towards the light. Being quite surprised with the amount of people there looking at least clean and somewhat civilised, he felt better than ever before since his departure from home. Soon he heard people chatting about a Bharat Desani, apparently a man of some power, who was inviting skilled people to his court for some tasks, he didn't exactly hear the details about. A little step into a circle of power and I am practically halfway out of this misery he thought.

 

 

****** Papred, audience chamber of Bharat Desani, now ******

 

Kheskeim entered the audience chamber after being escorted there by some little man with lesser status. He had convinced the man that his family crested chest proved his importance and that he needed him to show him to the place of Bharat Desani without delay. Having been quite friendly at first the man had showed some discontent at being addressed as a mere guide, but he had done the favour. Little more contempt had shown to those that looked at him, Kheskeim obviously didn't, when Kheskeim with no thanks at all had just waved him of and entered the hall without as much as a thank you.

 

Having of course removed his common clothes and the ugly but necessary black cloak, Kheskeim looked a splendour of a nobleman in the little crowd of people assembled in the large chamber. Not that he had noticed anyone but one man, who obviously was Bharat Desani; the conical hat and the robe easily giving him away to Kheskeim, who remembered pictures from a book about political traditions - if his memory served him correctly.

 

Before he could address the man, he had been asked to move a bit away by a guard, because the "Minister for Internal Security" was to speak. How rude... was Kheskeim's initial thought as he tried to down stare the guard while contemplating what to offer as a proof of his right to do what he wanted. He decided to wait and listen to what the minister had to say, maybe he could get a better feeling for what this man's needs were, ultimately giving him a much better negotiation position.

 

The speech soon turned pretty boring though. It started promising but them turned into crude matters of superstition and something with an early civilization. He sounded like his father, when he had one of his speeches of crusading and doing "big" things for the good of the country and so on and so forth. He instantly disliked the minister. How could he babble of things this unimportant and of no concern to anyone but the lesser people, whom no one cared about anyway?

 

Kheskeim looked around while the speech was going towards its hopefully timely end. He couldn't believe the people, or whatever they were, that were there. Two huge men with rough characteristics and Kheskeim thought a brute and very unintelligent looking appearance. Shuddering he moved his view to a much finer specimen; a very young woman with long, straggly black hair and big beautiful eyes that albeit showing no real emotion sucked him right in. The rest, which he didn't spend much time looking at, were some strange white haired dark skinned man and a... yikes! It was some kind of golden green eyed monster with coppered hair. What is this place??! - And what in Zorlon is that creature??

 

The minister finished and Kheskeim saw his second chance slip away just as fast as the first, when the minister hushed them out, just showed them to a big building and went on his way. hmpff

 

Kheskeim tried to address him politely but was ignored completely. Maybe they would meet him again, if he just did what they had been asked to do. How hard could that be. He had no intent on going on a silly crusade against some made up ghosts back in the wild. No he would get to meet the minister in private and hand him a proposal he couldn't refuse. He smiled at his own cunning. You'll be running things in this city in a week if you keep up that level of skill your highness he admired himself with.

 

He didn't really want to go to a tavern. What could ever be there of interest to one of his kind? Well, since the minister has given them instructions to do so, he better show some good faith. With a bit of luck he didn't have to act this role that long, and... maybe he could investigate a certain good looking female while at it.

 

After having put all his stuff into the other guesthouse, he went into the tavern area expecting the worst.

 

 

****** Papred, tavern area of Garden of Paradise ******

 

"Not too bad, have seen worse, much worse", Kheskeim says to himself while walking past everyone without even looking their way. He orders two glasses of wine at the bar and takes them directly to where Kyrika is standing.

 

"Mlady, begging my manners and bluntness but seeing you here in this strange crowd caused some trouble to my mind. Thus hoping to provide you with both security and a hand in the dark, I offer you my services. I am Kheskeim Valantius, coming lord of the Valantius house."

 

He bows and hands her a glass of wine bearing the smile he knew could melt butter on a cold winter night if it had to.

 

"By the traditions of my people I offer you wine and a toast to accompany that, showing my good intent besides the pleasure of the substance itself."

[ThetaOrionis01]

Kyrika recognises some of the faces in the tavern. The tall fighter - at least she assumes that's what he is - at the bar has given her a brief nod, but she doesn't think it's meant to invite conversation. The tattoed man, at the far side of the table, looks just as ill at ease and bothered by the heat as she is. She notes that, like her, he has ignored Desani's instruction to leave their belongings in their rooms.

 

Not that she has anything worth taking, Kyrika reminds herself. Of all the people in this group, she surely has to be the least well prepared for this undertaking. But before she can make a list of the equipment she'll require she needs to find out a little more.

 

Two other people in the crowd she recognises from the audience room. One looks like an important nobleman. The other she cannot place - she has never seen anyone with golden skin before, and has no idea what the proper greeting for a golden person would be. It was likely that he, too, was of great importance.

 

Seeing the tattoed man take yet another sip from his waterskin, she fills a second glass from the ornate teapot in front of her, and crosses to his side of the table.

 

"Forgive me for intruding upon your thoughts," she addresses him with a slight bow of her head - the correct greeting for strangers whose status one is not certain about but presumes to be of roughly equal status to one's own - "but I could not help but notice that you, too, seem to be plagued by thirst, just as I am in this terrible heat. I have been advised by those local to the area that this tea is very good for quenching one's thirst, and indeed I have found this to be so. Perhaps you would like to try some?"

 

She places the glass on the table near him.

 

To introduce herself rather than being asked her name was not proper, but not to give her name would be an even worse breach of etiquette. Perhaps customs were different here, and her new companions would not think of her as ill-mannered.

 

"My name is Kyrika, and I am a stranger to this land."

 

She inclines her head again and withdraws to her own seat - to have remained there, demanding to be spoken to would have been terribly rude.

 

 

She sips the last of her own tea, and wonders if Desani's hospitality includes not just the rooms, but food and drink also. Perhaps she ought to make a list of all the things she thinks she might need... but it would be so much easier if she had at least some idea of what their task will involve.

 

To her surprise the nobleman in their party approaches her, and offers her a glass of wine. Of his smile she is not certain, but his greeting is very polite indeed, and she wonders if he is mocking her to address her with such courtesy - but perhaps he is simply obeying the customs of his country.

 

"You do me too much honour, Lord Valantius," she replies and accepts the glass. "I must surely be the least important member of our party. I am indeed a stranger, having arrived in this city but a few hours ago. My name is Kyrika, and the land of my birth is Niyobi. How I came to be in this country I do not know, yet finding myself here I count myself very fortunate that the noble Bharat Desani graciously offered me a part in this undertaking."

 

She takes a cautious sip of the offered wine - wine could do odd things to people, even the reserved Niyobians; she had witnessed it at her sister's house.

 

"I hope you do not think me forward, but being a stranger to this land, and, I confess, a stranger to adventuring, there are so many things I would wish to learn about. Perhaps, Lord Valantius, you would share some of your wisdom with me, to dispel my ignorance? How, for one, does one travel between cities in this country? Which of the temples do you think we should visit first?"

 

She interrupts herself - what must this nobleman think of her, chattering away like an excited child?

 

"But perhaps it would be best if such things were discussed among the whole party," she adds with an apologetic smile. "Would you be so kind, Lord Valantius, as to introduce me to the others?"

[Morgoth]

Chucahau looks up slightly startled as he hears a female voice addressing him. Unsure about how to react, he watches the young woman place a cup with a steaming, clear, dark brown liquid in front of him. Before he has a chance to think of a suitable response, the woman, Kyrika if he has understood her correctly, withdraws to her own seat.

 

While he is still wondering whether he should stand up and join her, he watches another man who was also in Bharat Desani's room approach Kyrika and offer her something Chacahau is unable to identify. What attracts is attention rather more is that man's unusual clothing, which consists of several pieces of a smooth, shiny and apparently unflexible material he thinks he can recognize as the same material that had been crafted into some tools he had seen being sold on the streets. When he had asked the merchants what it was, he had always been laughed at for his ignorance, which has only increased his curiosity concerning this material.

 

Judging that it is probably not a good idea to interrupt the conversation between the man and Kyrika, he decides to focus his attention on the strange brew in front of him while keeping an eye on the pair.

 

He puts a finger into the liquid, noticing it is still quite hot, and sniffs the tea carefully. "Teee..." he attempts to repeat the word Kyrika has used for the content of the cup in front of him. As she has been drinking that liquid since their group has arrived at the tavern, there can be no danger connected to the consumption of the tea.

 

He picks up the cup with both hands, and after blowing at the cup's content a bit to cool it down, he takes a small, careful sip, keeping the liquid in his mouth for a little time to explore its taste before swallowing. The aroma of the tea is not comparable to anything Chucahau has tasted so far and, while unusual, he cannot say that he instantly dislikes the brew.

 

As it seems, despite the seeming lack of emotion on her face the woman really wants to be friendly to him, and Chucahau makes a mental note that she may be willing and able to help him with gathering some information about his new environment and helping him with some of the problems he has already faced while trying to find his way around.

[ixnos]

Kane nearly chokes on his ale as he listens to the sickening hospitality but then smirks eyeing up the nobleman that has entered, Kane wasn't eavesdropping but merely listening to his surroundings and already he wanted to vomit from the kindness, he mutters something about why he prefers to work alone but then sighs knowing that won't be an option in this case, he gulps down his ale and grins at the so-called nobleman.

 

"Leave the poor lass alone, we all just got here and she don't need some snotty noble trying to woo her torso into your chambers"

 

Kane wasn't a fan of those that used charm as a conversation breaker, infact his race were known for honesty rather than their personality and charm and rather much feared for their skills in combat, however Kane was one to never use it to his advantage in verbal speech, he'd rather use it where it is supposed to be used...he had left his swords and few items within the rooms stated yet his dagger was the only thing never removed from it's actual resting place...this was mainly for those places that don't use weapons or don't believe they can be used for good causes. Which helps Kane even more since if his target or someone starts on him, he can simply stab them and move on while everyone figures out what happened. He finishes the last gulp and places the mug on the bar top with a few coins next to it, the bar keep nods and refills, handing it back to Kane, finally he decides to introduce himself.

 

"Since we don't know eachother and obviously will be working with eachother, I am Kane Nighy, a Jourtesian Mercenary, my reason for being here...well to find out what the heck is going on and what I can personally gain from this...my skills...well that is obvious...want something injured or killed, you have the right man...want someone to tell you the truth...you have the right man...want someone to sweet talk the enemy and make you virtually sick...ask the nobleman trying to impress the Nyobian"

 

Kane smirks slyly as he glances to the person with the guitar and then to the golden skinned person, the heat didn't bother him since Jourtres was a hot place to begin with and with the amount of travelling he has done, he has grown accoustomed to most weather conditions, he ponders wondering what he shall need for this journey, due to being a fighter he had to think tatically too, which meant checking his items too...he blinks then looks back to the person with a guitar, noticing he is slowly dozing off, Kane smirks at this and strikes up a conversation.

 

"So...you're a music man...you a bard or something more?"

[WereWolf531]

Suddenly wide awake at being addressed, Khyros finishes his tune and looks up, seeing the imposing Jourtresian looking at him. Scooping up the small pile of coins at his feet, he stands up and replies, "A music man eh? Yeah, I guess you could call me that." "Wow," he thought, "this guy could rip apart a sea serpent with his bare hands. I knew Jourtresians were strong, but..." The momentary shock having passed, he slung his guitar over his shoulder.

 

Taking a step backward, he performs a fancy bow and says, "My name is Khyros, I am an actor, and at your service." Walking towards where the rest of the group has gathered, he states "I can tell by your reactions that you haven't met many members of my race. I am a Shallaran, and we are most at home in the sea. Although my appearance may at first be...unsettling, I hope that I may lend my abilities to this cause."

 

Looking over each of them he thinks to himself, "hmmm, that one's definitely well-off, and the lady is eager to start, that is good. And the two Jourtresians...both very strong, though not very social, fair enough."

 

Recalling that it would be better to learn more about them before drawing conclusions, he extends his hand and says, "Might I have the pleasure of knowing your names, good sirs and lady?"