[Kella Greeran]

When Loris began a discussion on the linguistic evolution of the title, Kella tried her very best to look like she was maintaining active attention. Her façade was just barely believable. If the digression had stretched any further it would have become excruciatingly obvious that Kella was mentally wandering and considering such important things as whether she should have packed more pants or what she wanted for the evening meal.
She murmured alongside Lori's explanation, "Poncy Jaedaxians and their liberal abandoning of vowels."

Where the history of local titles did little to snare Kella's interest, she looked like a druid at a tree-hugging contest when Loris mentioned a fencing school. Fencing, there was something she could come to relish. Enough of swinging an obscenely large sword, combat was much more interesting with a dash of finesse. Suddenly, the man was doubly fascinating. His request regarding her name was met with a self-deprecating smile, and a phrase that expressed more cheek then she felt.
"Can you call me Kella? Lud, Loris, if you're a Maestro for a fencing school and a Chief Constable, you can call me 'Chickadee' and I'll pretend it was the title my mother gave me."

Kella's shimmer of humor faded as her brother's situation was edged further into the light. She sipped her wine, feeling the need for a drink most keenly. The city's climate was curious, and the ability to keep the proper equilibrium was impressive. Of course, Kellor would feel a perverse need to not only upset the hypocritical apple cart, but to set the cart ablaze and dance like a heathen around the flames.
The Vagaran bit her lower lip a moment, trying to fathom how dire her brother's situation was.
"Loris, I am already in debt to you for what information you've given me so far, but I'm going to push my luck in typical fashion and ask for more. Maybe even a little help? Since you seem at least indifferent on the good Podesta." Kella almost seemed to wince at the question, unsure of how benevolent the gods were feeling today.

"I have been living under a rock for some time," the military had a tendency to be a mite restricting. "So I'm a little bemused on the significance of a Town Horse, and why on earth my brother would want it. Was he just shaking a hornet's nest then wearing it like a hat? Metaphorically speaking that it."