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After weeks of hard missions and even harder conversations, d'Artagnan had been hesitant to go through anymore strange doors. Then he'd passed by one left slightly ajar and he'd heard music...smelled wonderful things, and curiosity had gotten the better of him. Luckily, going through the door had resulted in nothing but delight. It apparently passed through to something called an amusement park and d'Artagnan was amazed and definitely amused.

First had been the colorful spinning horses, then the wheel that went up into the sky, and then something insanely exhilarating called a roller coaster. D'Artagnan had ridden several of them more than once, only stopping when hunger sent him to the food stalls and toward something called a funnel cake.

And then, he had found something called the paintball range. Immediately, d'Artagnan was signing up for the next session.

[[He went through the amusement park door. Catch him at any point in his adventure!]]

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"Oh good lord, here," d'Artagnan said. A Musketeer and a gentleman, he offered the woman his arm while signaling to the game runners that they needed to stop and let him out.

"I'm afraid that is one of the least peaceful corners of the park."

Kahlan hesitated before taking his arm but when she saw it was covered by cloth, she felt more at ease in accepting his courtesy; the last thing she wanted to do was accidentally confess him because she was out of sorts.

"Thank you. I'm Kahlan, by the way. I figure I owe you a name at the very least if I'm getting a rescue."

"D'Artgnan, of the King's Musketeers," he said, taking a brief bow once they'd cleared the doorway. "It's only paint. They tell me it washes out quite easily for this very reason."

"I can deal with a little paint," Kahlan assured him. It was not his fault she wandered across his path, after all, and she did not want to be rude if she could possibly help it. "I get a little...flustered when there are a lot of people around. I got turned around and I could not find the door back to the inn. Have you been to the inn before? Or, well, I guess they call it a hotel."

"The Nexus? Yes. I pass through it by way of Paris, France," he said, adding his country since she had not seemed to recognize the name of the Musketeers. "Allow me to get you something to eat, since I splattered you with paint."

"Paris. I have never heard of that place." It wasn't terribly shocking. Kahlan, so far as she knew, was the only Confessor in the Nexus and the only person from the Midlands. It was disorienting and strange but at least she had seen some kindness too.

"Will you tell me about it? I hate being at an intellectual disadvantage."

"Forgive me, Madame. Paris is so big I wouldn't know where to begin. With the King? Or the places I know? Or my life as a Musketeer?" he asked, smiling and aware he was of little help.

"Tell me about being a Musketeer," Kahlan said, settling on that topic to start with. "It sounds like it's something you're proud of, so I would love to hear about it. I've never heard of such a thing where I'm from."

"We are guards to the King," he said proudly, though none of his pride was related to Louis XIII and all to do with his comrades. "Skilled in the sword and in shooting."

"That sounds like an admirable role to play, then." Kahlan knew a good deal about interacting with kings and the like; Confessors were often part of an army and Confessors had to learn all about past skirmishes in lessons. Still, she liked being an instrument of peace more than one of war.

"I know a little of combat. Mostly knives, for close quarters. I never trained with swords."

"I was honored beyond words when I received my commission." And sometimes all he wanted was to go back to that day when their enemies had been apparent and their defeats satisfying.

"Throwing or close fighting?"

"Close fighting," Kahlan said. "Though throwing would probably be a better idea. Dispatch them before they got close enough to do any harm, if you had decent aim. It is certainly something to think about, if I ever get home again."

"No," d'Artagnan said thoughtfully. "Throwing them means you're only as good as the knives you've got on your person. A good pistol might be better, though not so romantic."

"A pistol? What's that?" Kahlan thought she was well aware of all forms of weapons - both those she had been trained in and those used against her - but she had never heard of a pistol.

"How does that work?"

"It uses gunpowder to fire a lead ball...I'm afraid I had to return mine to my rooms before I was given admittance to the park," he explained. "Or I would show you here and now."

Kahlan tilted her head, trying to work that out. "Is it anything like a cannon? I've seen one of those, once or twice."

The idea of something small enough to hold in one's hand that used gunpowder, though, was more than a bit frightening.

"Oh yes, but small enough to carry around. The paint guns there are sort of the same but...much less dangerous." Unless someone happened upon them without intending to as she had.

"It might be prudent to learn how to use one." Such a powerful weapon would give her a distinct advantage, should she be happened upon.

"Much better than a knife, anyway."

"Well, if I meet you on the other side of the Nexus' doors, I can introduce you to Aramis," he said, smiling. "He's the est shot of any of us."

Kahlan smiled.

"Best, perhaps, but would he be as kind and patient as you have been with me? That counts for something too."

"I don't think of myself as much for either, but thank you." Certainly he tried to be, but trying and success weren't the same thing. Especially when it came to patience.

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