(LOG) Sorynn's arrival

(00:48) Sorynn huddled in her thick black fur cloak, deep in the wee hours of the night. She took her horse to the tree's, keeping clear of the main roads. She knew it was stupid to tread alone to the Estate, unannounced, but really, the girl could think of no other way. She hadn't even told Lyriel of her departure. Once she was far enough from the castle, and close enough to see the estate, she tied her stead to a thick tree and took down the main road on foot. Her plan was simple. Just wander in close and knock. Of course, she never made it that far and quickly found herself escourted, not to the main hall, but to the dingy holding cells, and to her further humiliation, straight into a hanging cage. She stood, careful not to touch anything. Arms wrapping the cloak tightly around her. "Don't you know who I am?" She snarled at the men stationed near. "Is this any way to treat a princess?!" Finally, seeing she was getting no where, she set her jaw and simply stood, sea greens glaring at the far wall.

(00:57) Drysllthen strolled into the small dungeon just in time to hear the her insistence of her status, and amusement crept over his freckled face. "Good eve to you then, Sorynn, although I suppose you'll have to forgive me if I don't recognize your father's claim to the throne." White teeth flashed at her in the gloom. "And even if I did, I fear he shan't have it much longer." Lazily, he observed her, hands clasped behind at the small of his back. His dark clothing provided little relief to the foreboding atmosphere, only the occasional blue breaking through. "What brings you to our company, dear lady?" The Prince asked gallantly, as if the woman was not currently confined to a cage, his smile moving over her once more as his eyes lingered on her pale face.

(01:06) Tyltin V was rather late in coming, his own guards notifying him of the pretender's presence after she was confined. He brushed past the estate's guards standing stalwart before the dungeon, not bothered enough to dress properly--leather trousers, boots and sword graced his agile frame, leaving his scarred and burnt torso exposed in the low torchlight. His eyes caught the blood-toned glimmer of the woman's dress. His lips twitched in a frown; why did he recognize her? He moved to speak when he caught sight of the other occupant of the dim room. Fingers curled around his sword's knotted hilt before a glint of surprise entered his expression. "They did not tell me you would attend to this, cousin," he said lightly. The title was inaccurate but less demeaning than nephew.

(01:15) Sorynn slowly turned her head when the first set of boots moved in the door. The few curls that were left loose, sent tumbling over her shoulder. Cloak was released somewhat, exposing the tightness of her gown subtly. "Good Eve, Drysllthen." She assumed, judging from the stories she'd heard of him. "No need for forgiveness, we all know the claim won't last. Why pretend otherwise?" Sculpted brow perked slightly. Lush lips opened once more to answer his question, but the second pair of entering boots shut them again. Greens gleamed cat-like in the dim lights, following Tyltin as he crossed the room. One hand reaching out to gently clasp one of the bars, head tilted coyly to the side as she watched the pair interact in silence. Best to see how they worked together. Claws aching to know which of the pair to latch into in hopes to keep herself well off.

(01:21) Drysllthen nodded curtly at her recognition, her blunt assessment of her father's situation drawing cool regard from him. Whatever he might have said was lost as he glanced toward the opening doorway, his unornamented sword shifting against his hip as he turned. It took no more than an instant for him to realize just who it was that joined them, his own surprise forced behind a welcoming smile. "Nor was I told that you would, cousin." His head inclined graciously, more than willing to follow his lead on the title. "It seems our men are eager to see her tended to properly." Admitting that there was no clear leader in front of this particular woman seemed unwise. Observation of her from the corner of his gaze showed her posture much changed, the intent to seduce only too evident to him. "You've arrived just in time to hear why she's graced us with her company." His blue eyes finally slid to her again, expectant. "Do continue, Lady Sorynn."

(01:30) Tyltin V ignored the captive girl for the moment, much more concerned with Drysllthen's reception of him. Only at that smile did his knuckles loosen from his sword's handle, though his grip remained ready at an instant's notice. Jade eyes pinned the woman to the bards of the cage unsympathetically, remaining rock-steady on her face. "Of course," he added, still trying to place her. Obviously she was of some value, given her high state of dress and fair complexion. "Hopefully her reasons suffice to keep her head and shoulders adjoined by her neck." Only then did he deign to smile, lips cracking just noticeably in the low gloom.

(01:38) Sorynn continued to silently observe, gleening what she could out of them. Drysllthen coming off as false while Tyltin spoke harshly, and seemed utterly disinterested. Seems she had mispegged the pair of them. A grin slid onto her face, a challenge was much more fun than the easy pickings in the castle. It was all a game to her, even faced with an almost certain death, it was all one elaborate joke to keep her amused. "I would very much enjoy keeping my head upon my shoulders, I'd be little good without it." She said in her usual low, smokey tone, brilliant smile still lingering on her face. "So, I'll put it simply. I've come to offer my assistance to whichever of you is leading the utterly obvious impending storm on the castle." There seemed to be no fear in the girl, and her annoyance at being placed in a cage like an ignored songbird vanished. It was all part of the game.

(01:49) Drysllthen's lips curled wolfishly at Tyltin's words, the girl's earlier comment to him enough to make herself clear. She possessed no loyalty to her father or to her line, but he let her continue uninterrupted. Revulsion welled in his throat when she put it so directly, a small glance shot to his uncle to catch his reaction. He swallowed biting words, knowing well the woman could be of use..if they could trust her. Natural paranoia at such a creature showing in their midst and distaste for traitors held him back from embracing the idea. "Intriguing," he remarked noncommittally. "What do you think of that, cousin? Even King Raegnold's own daughter knows he is done." It reminded him of the stories seagoing men told of rats abandoning sinking ships.

(01:57) Tyltin V blinked at the woman's reply about her state of use, meeting it with a shrug. It wasn't rare to see a headless woman getting straddled by a battle-weary conqueror...at least when you were the Swordking. Herfurther words turned his little grin to a sneer. That brief flash of recognition blossomed at Drysllthen's words, a chuckle dying in his throat. "Right now the gods of hunger are leading the siege, as we wait to see how much sense your father has." He approached the bars, strong fingers curling around the wood as he appraised her, letting a bit of his revulsion show. "I think Raegnold is king of the castle and nothing else. His daughter is smart...the question remains, is she tricking her father, or tricking us?"

(02:11) Sorynn's smile never faultered. Not even in the midst of the obvious disgust and mistrust. None of it mattered to her, in the slightest. She made no attempt to move either foreward or back when Tyltin approached, those greens merely peering emotionlessly into his face. "That, dear Swordking, is for you to decide." With that she moved, pacing the cage and stopping when her back was to them. "The men of the castle are uneasy, hungry. Loyalties and oaths can be bought out by a mere bat of pretty lashes." Glance was cast over her shoulder, looking at each pointedly, as if she had already been assured of the fact. "All the men need is a little nudge not to go up against the Valenti's. I can provide that nudge. Or anything else you can think to use me for." She shrugged "Or you can kill me and find your own way."

(02:23) Drysllthen lounged against the wall as Tyltin approached her, his mind whirling. "An apt question, cousin." He heard himself comment quietly from his shadowed corner. Blue eyes locked curiously on the so-called princess, wondering if she would truly provide such a nudge or if she was merely there to distract or spy. Slowly, he straightened, his attention moving toward Tyltin. "Perhaps we should have Lady Sorynn placed in more suitable quarters while we consider her offer." Her appearance had thrown him oddly off balance, or perhaps it was weariness, and he wished time to think on their next move. "It is late, after all, and I'm sure she must need rest."

(02:32) Tyltin V blinked at the ambiguous reply, stilling his desire to enter the hanging cage and extract a firmer response. Her assessment of men's weakness for beauty was as true as it was galling, and had him releasing the wooden barsand turning away. "If we were in Ysdrin, I'd move her to the cross to hang for the night. As it stands we're close to a decision on action, and she might prove useful. Move her and keep her under your guard--some of mine are from Szongrill, and might decide the Ysdrin in her veins is more important than my pleasure." There was a bluntness to his tone but no haughtiness, the man obviously used to giving commands and having them obeyed. With a nod he turned, sweeping out the door without a backward glance.