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The White Helms


Staff member
Aug 16, 2007
Suncoast FL
Nuovo Porto, 8th Quartiere, Casino Monte-Carlo

Fleming squinted at this M and made a short bow at this lord who was cheating lairds of their pocket.

"Aye, this Nori has my notes, my smartblock, and don't you already know everything about me?" Ian asked, "I am here because this White Helmet folly will bleed deserters, disillusioned, and broken boys who cannot cohesively return on home."

"Your young friend?" Ian begged about Vespucci, "she told us her mother absconded, not in those words mind ye, but if you were to give me back my smartblock I would simply be reporting back an entry to see if it matches with an open case."

That the child of an absconding dead one could go on to make problems for the country they escaped to never registered for Nàbaidhean. The original absconder was the target, the most dangerous and rooted issue, and it seemed that their children born elsewhere more or less disabled them from returning in a dangerous way.

"I pray that Shannon's traitor mother is dead, buried, and that Miss Vespucci forgets where her mother came from." Fleming continued.

Itching at his collar for a time, Lieutenant Fleming removed the Padraig's cross pin and palmed it. "Like an Engell you think that if I wear your pressed trousers and jacks I'll start thinking or acting like one of ye." Fleming said.

"But why should I care about Shannon Vespucci?" Ian asked, "She is a perfect stranger to me, a child of the dead, and she will never step foot back in her mother's home without dread."

Fleming scoffed and squeezed the needle of his pin to his palm just hard enough to not pierce for blood.

"Unless that's what you do want to happen then, that the Nàbaidhean treat this stranger like an absconder?" Fleming asked.