Dubhaine Family/Ciarghuala/Roleplays/1018/March

2nd March

Night -- Giask

Solomon Greybrook

Solomon, gazing over the coastline of his estate in the distance one more time before heading inland, began to question the decisions that he had made. With some newly recruited infantry, Captain Hadroria, his right hand in the Greybrook Guards, was eager to break the new boys in. Recruited with the best that he could afford, Solomon also was incited by the prospect of travelling, once again. Heading inland however, was his idea. Spending most of his time in the last week or so by the coast, Solomon was bored with the sight. Excited for something new, something radical by his standards, something different.

On the road out of the city, Solomon was captivated by his own thoughts, Captain Hadroria took charge of navigating for the day. As the hours past, Solomon began to doze off. However, as his horse buckled suddenly by a passerby, horrible memories flashed in front of his eyes. In a mere second, they had vanished. "It won't happen again," Solomon muttered, awoken by the jump but startled by the vision. Looking ahead to Captain Hadroria and to his guard with blurred vision, Solomon swore as he wiped his brow of sweat, "Not again. Never again."

4th March

Evening -- Giask

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

"So have you finished playing soldiers for the day dearest?" Em arched an eyebrow quizzically as she looked up from her battered paperback, its lurid cover depicting a provocatively dressed blonde and emblazoned with vivid text in an unfamiliar script.

"It is rather expected of me Em," Ciarghuala let the heavy oak door close behind her, shrugging off her baldric to hang Shieldbane from a convenient corner of the four-poster bed. The quarters of the Grand Panetier were functional rather than opulent, a convenience for whichever worthy this Office of State fell to should they need to stay in the Capital for a few days. Still the thick goose-down mattress provided a welcome hint of comfort after a long day on the training field and the Margravine unbuckled her brigandine with an audible sigh, letting it clatter to the flagstones.

"Help yourself to tea. There's a freshly made pot on the nightstand," Em turned a page, her perfect pedicure catching the light as her feet fidgeted with the bedspread, "and Synne is running you a bath."

"How do you always manage to look so..."

"So radiant?" Em's smile lit up the room.

"I guess you could put it that way," Ciarghuala sat heavily on the edge of the bed, tugging at her boots.

"I make it a rule not to waste time on trivialities," another page turned languidly and she sipped her tea, highlighting the differing priorities of the two women.

"Teaching soldiers how to survive in battle is hardly a triviality," boots discarded, the Margravine collapsed on the bed with a heavy sigh.

Em placed her book facedown on the nightstand and turned that disarming smile of hers on Ciarghuala, "I know your work's important darling."

"But you think I overdo it..."

"You know you overdo it dearest," Em placed her head on Ciarghuala's shoulder, "Always on the move, fighting or preparing to fight, and when you're not doing that you're poring over ledgers and account books. Let the weight of the world sit on someone else's shoulders for a while."

"I wish I could," the Lady of Poryatu stared deep into those bewitching eyes, "but that's not who I was raised to be."

"Then at least let me lead you astray this evening. We've been in Giask almost a fortnight now and we've yet to paint the town red."

"I'm not even going to ask where that expression comes from," Ciarghuala ran her fingers gently through Em's hair, "but I take it you have a plan?"

"Go have your bath first and then I'll tell you all about it."

5th March

Day -- Giask

Aldrakar Renodin

A Monarch from the North

Having done away with the retinue that followed him everywhere Aldrakar breathed a sigh of relief. The air was different somehow though. He allowed his eyes to wander around but they only informed him of old familiarizes. The palace walls were still made of the same marble and stone. The servants still wore the same uniforms and the Imperial Guards still patrolled the halls. It was as he remembered it. Yet it smelled differently! A frown marred his featured but it wasn't enough to stop him now. Having journeyed all the way from the Empire's northern reaches down to the Capital of Giask.

Dressed in fine furs and satin and but absent any jewelry save for a solid gold signet ring Aldrakar calmly walked into the feasting hall where the other Nobles were already gathered and settled. A round faced winesteward made a small smile as he gracefully moved towards the Monarch. "Master Aldrakar. The words spoken softly yet with ample reverence. Might I offer you this Fissoan dry? From the hills of Mangai. Aldrakar stopped as he inspected the wine bottle that was presented to him. Mangai.. a bit of freshness would do well to start off with. As his thoughts formed his chin dipped in a minor nod. That'll do. The two men, long time acquaintances if not friends save for the barrier that status brought, shared a private smirk.

And that is how Aldrakar arrived, home away from home and ready to mingle with those present.

Matthew Coffey

"I can imagine." Matthews eyes gleamed as he followed Donald's brief description of Shinnen, a smile touching his features. "I must say, slogging through a swamp to find monsters to kill is the least of my fancies..." He trailed off, his gaze shifting toward the giant that was sir William. Or perhaps it was due to him being seated, that William seemed so much taller. Not wanting to seem rude, he once again, reluctantly, pried himself from his chair. "It is good to see you again, sir William. Please, we were just exchanging news from across the empire over a cup of wine." Stepping aside for the man, Matthew peered around the gardens again to see if others were about just yet. Satisfied that his attention was not needed immediately, he harried a nearby servant to fetch the next gift.

Presenting a fully grown man, red in the face and bearing a ridiculous outfit, Matthew bowed with a flourish to sir William. "A fool, for you, paid for one years service. I trust he will bring you and your soldiery some entertainment as you go about your honourable work in the realm." He straightened up, though his tone dropped the pomp of introductions. "He's really quite good. Juggling, jests, mock jousts..." Grinning broadly to his companion, perhaps it was becoming apparent that all of these presents were something of a mockery. That, or Matthews sense of humour was masked so professionally that he seemed genuine in these veiled gifts. What Matthew hadn't realised, or perhaps arranged as artfully, was that the fool was mimicking his movements almost perfectly the entire conversation. Without even allowing William the courteousy of response, his attention was drawn away.

A familiar voice penetrated the din of servants rushing about, easily recognised from among the junior nobles and common workers. King Aldrakar was here, and that meant things could begin to kick off. At least as far as the round lord was concerned. Giving the briefest nod or tap on the shoulder to the assembled lords and knights at the table, Matthew gestured over to their newest arrival. Once the king had selected a drink from a more senior steward, the viscount strutted up to the monarch like a stuffed pheasant, offering him a bow, toothy smile, and warm greeting. "My king, I am most pleased you have deigned to see us this day, hopefully the festivities will best your expectations. I trust the wine is to your liking? We've had several of our very own," he motioned back to the other three, "choosing the beverages on display tonight." Clapping twice above his head, apparently a signal he'd intended for the servile around the gardens, the panicked preparations began to cease and trickle out into the rest of the palace. What had been arranged thus far would do.

Now the feast could begin in earnest.

7th March

Night -- Giask

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

"Don't fidget!" Em smacked Ciarghuala's hand away as it sought to tug at the maroon tunic collar, "There's little point wearing your dress uniform dear if you're not willing to bear a little discomfort."

"You know I don't like these formal occasions," the Lady of Poryatu clasped her hands behind her back with a resigned sigh.

"That's why I gave Synne the evening off dear. She's still smarting from your comments after the last State function and would probably have brained you by now," Em stood back, admiring her handiwork, "There, every bit the dashing line officer."

Ciarghuala gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror. Her maroon tunic was elegantly tailored from fine Lurian broadcloth fastened to the collar and at both cuffs with gold buttons bearing the Imperial Crest, tightly fitted to the waist then flaring in a pleated skirt. The contrast with her white kidskin britches and the polished oxblood leather of her baldric and riding boots was striking. Even the hilt of Shieldbane was burnished to a courtly sheen. She gripped the hem of her tunic and straightened it.

"Time to go darling, we have an Empire to conquer," Em slipped her arm through Ciarghuala's, white silk evening gloves and dazzling jewels matching the glamour of her loose-fitting fringed black dress, extravagant strings of pearls woven around her neck and through her hair, and open-toed sandals with impossibly high needle-like heels.

---

"Grand Panetier The Most Honourable The Margravine of Poryatu Lady Ciarghuala Dubhaine and Lady Emily D'Arcy," the stentorian tones echoed through the hall as Ciarghuala and Em descended the marble stairs arm-in-arm as various worthies looked their way.

"And that's why I normally avoid these affairs," the Margravine whispered whilst casting her eye over the gathering.

"You're a powerful noble and a war hero from a renowned family. You have to expect a little attention," Em squeezed her arm, "now let's mingle and you can introduce me to all these good people."

8th March

Night -- Giask

William Fitz Roberts

Sir William accepted the viscount's gift of a fool in stony silence. Clearly the man's humour had not matured since their childhood in Poryatu together. He would find a use for the fool at some point, but doubted Matthew would approve. He turned as he heard the herald announce the arrival of the Grand Panetier. He felt that he ought pay his respect to his liege, so quickly downed the rosewater that Matthew had given him the other morning, grimacing at the flavour and wondering why on earth would anyone ever find it appetising?, and slowly made his way over to her. As he passed an alcove, he noticed the alchemist that Matthew had hired preparing his heretical tricks. Glancing back to ensure no one at the high table noticed him, he ducked into the alcove, grabbing the man from behind, placing a large hand over his mouth and pressing a dagger into the alchemist's trembling back

He leaned in close to the man's ear, speaking in a low, menacing tone, "You may have the other nobles fooled, witch, but I know what you truly are. If I see any, ANY, funny business from you this evening, know that I will not hesitate to react accordingly. I have people watching your family. All told, you have very lovely children, don't you think?"

The alchemist gasped as William released him, "you wouldn't dare, I am here at Viscount Matthew's invitation", the man stuttered

William smiled down at the man, "that response might well have just killed your family", said William, speaking in a disturbingly cheery tone, "carry on as normal this evening. If you tell anyone about our little conversation or try to leave early, my people will act accordingly", he exited the alcove quickly, almost colliding with a servant carrying wine.

Having chastised the servant for their clumsiness, he continued his path through the banquet over to the Grand Panetier.

As he drew near, he promptly bowed low and spoke in the most polite tone he knew, "My lady, I am at your service".

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

"Sir William," the Margravine dipped her head with practiced solemnity, just the hint of a familiar smile as she did so.

"Emily, have you met Sir William?"

"No, I don't believe I have Ciara," her companion gave the young nobleman a warm smile.

"Lady Emily D'Arcy, may I have the honour of introducing Sir William Fitz Roberts. Sir William is Lord of Bloodstone Manor and a most industrious agent of the Empire."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sir William," Em extended her right hand, silk glove, diamond rings, elegant wristwatch and all.

William Fitz Roberts

"Sir William," the Margravine dipped her head with practiced solemnity, just the hint of a familiar smile as she did so.

"Emily, have you met Sir William?"

"No, I don't believe I have Ciara," her companion gave the young nobleman a warm smile.

"Lady Emily D'Arcy, may I have the honour of introducing Sir William Fitz Roberts. Sir William is Lord of Bloodstone Manor and a most industrious agent of the Empire."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sir William," Em extended her right hand, silk glove, diamond rings, elegant wristwatch and all.

William, unsure what to do with the proffered hand, took it and bowed awkwardly. "It is a pleasure to meet you my lady. You must excuse me, I have grossly under-dressed due to coming straight from the training grounds," Sir William turned once more to the Grand Panetier,

"You flatter me much, my liege. I wish only to serve the realm. In fact, I am taking a break from the recruitment of militia so I that I might observe their effectiveness over time. I intend to visit my family before returning to active military service. My wife writes to me daily of how my daughters are growing and I fear at this rate they might not recognise me as their father," William paused, wistfully remembering the joy he had felt the day he had held them, so tiny in his massive arms. Remembering where he was, William shook in himself back into present.

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

"Family is often uppermost in my thoughts too," Ciarghuala took a sip of wine from her goblet, remembering the half-starved and wretched condition in which her sister had arrived in Poryatu. The Dubhaines were cut from stiffer cloth than most and the Margravine dreaded to think what could possibly have brought Threiginion so close to death's door.

"To be honest I'm rather glad to be away from mine," Em's voice managed a conspiratorial edge despite it's cut-glass tone as she sought to head off an unseemly display of introspection, "they've never quite approved of my taste for adventure."

"Lady Emily is a tourist, isn't that right dear?" like much of Em's vocabulary the word was alien. Exotic.

"I'm actually supposed to be working on my next novel," she snaffled a savoury pastry from a passing waiter and took a delicate bite, "but I really needed a break from writing after the media blitz and Luria is so beautiful at this time. Much less stressful than that whole Boreal mess a few years ago. Tell me Sir William, have you seen much of the Empire?"

William Fitz Roberts

"Family is often uppermost in my thoughts too," Ciarghuala took a sip of wine from her goblet, remembering the half-starved and wretched condition in which her sister had arrived in Poryatu. The Dubhaines were cut from stiffer cloth than most and the Margravine dreaded to think what could possibly have brought Threiginion so close to death's door.

"To be honest I'm rather glad to be away from mine," Em's voice managed a conspiratorial edge despite it's cut-glass tone as she sought to head off an unseemly display of introspection, "they've never quite approved of my taste for adventure."

"Lady Emily is a tourist, isn't that right dear?" like much of Em's vocabulary the word was alien. Exotic.

"I'm actually supposed to be working on my next novel," she snaffled a savoury pastry from a passing waiter and took a delicate bite, "but I really needed a break from writing after the media blitz and Luria is so beautiful at this time. Much less stressful than that whole Boreal mess a few years ago. Tell me Sir William, have you seen much of the Empire?"

'I have been all over the Empire, my lady', William spoke as if he were given a military report, 'I grew up in the north, but in recent months I have been mostly in the south, firstly campaigning to retake our lost domains and then deploying militia in most provinces. Honestly, I much prefer the north, the south still feels alien to me.' William paused to take a drink, 'I feel at home in the north, my family is from there, I met my wife there, I hope my children will grow up there. Speaking of my wife, she has been asking for me to bring her to court, or even on campaign. I am fine with her being at court, but the thought of someone I love risking themselves on campaign terrifies me. Don't get me wrong, she can handle herself, but it would still worry me. How do you two cope with it?'

9th March

Day -- Giask

Sofia Nistalia

Sofia's entry to the feast was less grandiose than expected, one of her bodyguards staying behind on the chariot she recently bought alongside her small retinue, advancing forth only with a single bodyguard alongside her, his weapons left on the chariot and only with his extremely fancy armor, the emblem of house Nistalia bright on his tabard. Her entry's announcement being done by a young boy.

Sofia made her way in the large hall, her clothing extravagant and overbearing, an overdecorated dress where she spent little expenses to show off her apparent riches, a bright purple dress with white decorations swent upon it to accentuate the folds of the dress, meant to exalt her extravagant dress even further.

She took seat on the feast table, taking a moment to make sure her dress wasn't damaged in the process, and her bodyguard helping her seat. It was a simple gesture of cordiality from the soldier to his dame, then taking his position behind her chair, remaining silent.

Zajar Essenhorn

'Captain Leopold, have my personal guard select the most capable warriors of Askileon, make ready for travel and distribute this Imperial Decree to every Lurian Commander. Units of two dozen. Have them deliver it personally to each and every recipient.'

Zajar stamped his sigil ring into the still hot wax, sealing the last of a large stack of rolled parchments. Around him in the royal palace busied a small army of scribes, quartermasters and servants.

' Enough time has passed, either some of them have suddenly gone illiterate, or are plain insubordenent. If either is the case, inform me personally.'

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

"Oh, I try not to be too much of a bother Sir William," Emily's voice dropped to a mock whisper, "and I understand that our Margravine is more than capable of dealing with any trouble should it arise."

"Haven't I told you not to believe every rumour you hear Lady Emily?" Ciarghuala's mood visibly brightened and the two ladies shared a mischievous smile, like schoolgirls caught in some innocent misdemeanour.

"Actually this is my first trip south of the Sea Sir William so it's all new to me. Giask is such a contrast to Askileon and Poryatown - both it's magnificent wealth and the desperate poverty I've seen in its stews."

"I have warned Lady Emily not to wander too far from the citadel, haven't I dear?"

"Repeatedly!" Emily rolled her eyes theatrically before continuing enthusiastically, "I can hardly take in the ambiance of Giask if I spend my days locked away behind stone walls. Where would literature be if Dickens or Chaucer or Shakespeare had followed that advice. Not that my novels are of such a calibre of course - I certainly don't mean to blow my own trumpet - but I'm sure you get my drift."

Ciarghuala wasn't at all sure that she did. Emily had read her extracts from a couple of her novels, pithy affairs with a dry wit which didn't translate at all well into colloquial Lurian, and full of something she referred to as the juxtaposition of symbolic foreshadowing and psychological realism, but the circumstances of the Margravine's life in Dwilight meant that she'd rarely had time to engage with literature or the arts. And even if she had, such concepts were alien to what few academicians and rhetoricians there were practicing in the Empire.

It also didn't help that Emily's work largely viewed the human condition through the lens of murder most horrid, a concept which would be much easier to grasp if the protagonists and settings weren't so determinedly bucolic, private evils of human frailty passing barely noticed in a world where actual monsters stalked the night and it was a lucky village which passed a year untouched by their assaults. Love however has a power to override all else and the Lady of Poryatu found such excitement in her lover's enthusiasm that the world seemed shaped anew by it.

"To capture the essence of Giask one must experience it?" she offered, remembering wryly the smell of the quayside fleshpots where her retainers were fond of carousing.

"Precisely. Art is life and life is art! This is the very soul of les enfants de bohême," Em sighed a deep sigh and then remembered where she was. "Oh, but I do apologise Sir William, I get so swept up in my passion for writing that at times I quite forget my manners. You were telling us about your dear wife and the depth of your feelings for her. She is such a lucky woman to have so committed a protector," and she unconsciously squeezed Ciarghuala's arm as she said this.

"We'll be travelling back home to Poryatu with the Summer," Ciarghuala took another sip of her wine, "across the Euschean and through the straits to the open ocean. Do you have duties to keep you in Giask Sir William?"

Donald Augustus Allan

The gardens were really starting to fill up now, no longer was it just Donald, Matthew and Staedtler but a myriad of people had arrived and taken to making merriment. Even King Aldrakar had arrived, simply appearing in the hall with little ceremony, as was his way. Sir William had lumbered in and been less than impressed with Matthew’s gift, Dame Sofia had arrived also and thankfully not tried to talk to Donald.

Noticing his wine was gone, Donald quickly acquired more, only to see that too disappear in under a minute; the trick of course is to know when to stop he thought idly, while he dexterously acquired another goblet of wine from a passing servant. Scanning the gathering crowd he noticed the good lady Ciarghuala, Sir William and another women unknown to Donald, nearby. He straightened himself out and made his way towards the trio.

Trying his very hardest not to interrupt their conversation he announced himself “Good evening Sir William” nodding politely at his Knightly counterpart, before turning to the Magravine and giving a short bow; “Lady Ciarghuala, I do believe this is the first time we have conversed without the aid of letters, I am Donald Augustus of Sulorte. It is most wonderful to finally meet you in the flesh”

And then he turned to the third women and bearing a friendly face spoke to her: “And you must forgive my ignorance, my Lady, but I do not know your name. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

"Please, allow me Sir Donald. This is Lady Emily D'Arcy," Ciarghuala made the introductions, "and this is Vice-Marshal Sir Donald Allan. Do not let the Vice-Marshal's youth fool you, his name has featured prominently in despatches, leading patrols on our borders and beyond."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sir Donald," Emily extended her hand to shake his, "have you travelled far for this evening's festivities?"

William Fitz Roberts

William nodded politely as Donald acknowledged him and waited until Emily and Donald were in conversation before answering Ciarghuala.

"I do not quite know where my duties take me, my lady. I am currently training a force for my own purposes but I do not yet know where they might be most useful. If it wouldn't be too much of an imposition I wonder whether I might join you on your return North? The fields and hills that surround the towns of Poryatu are far better suited for training than the flat drill squares contained within Giask. However, first I have a couple of works of my own that I intend to have published shortly. I had hoped to discuss them here with these fine lords and ladies."

Staedtler la Stylo

Staedtler was lounging into the depths of his chair, slowly eating from a bowl of ripe, summer fruits and waxed berries, pinch by pinch. His gift from the hosting Viscount was beginning to gather dust and took up considerable table space, already having been mistaken for a decoration by one or two passers by, so he motioned for two servants to come and take it somewhere safe to be later retrieved. The two young lads hobbled over with their draping, golden hair coiling about their boyish faces, tickling the collar of their uniforms. Together, under the meticulous instruction of Staedtler, they deftly raised the rattling mechanism between them and shuffled up the steps and away to the palace like a pair of pallbearers. Staedtler watched them depart. Every scuff of the boot or miscommunicated turn viced his nerves and made him wince all over. When they took to the stairs and the leading lad failed his initial traversal onto the first step, Staedtler ground his molars together and clenched his fists. Only when they were out of earshot and line of sight did Staedtler relax and return to his treats, just a slight, however. He would undoubtedly still be able to hear the thing crumple against the flagstones were one of the boys to become distracted for just a moment, or to have fallen upon the misfortune of accidentally insulting one of the more petulant guests in some trivial manner.

Staedtler blindly reached for his fourth, or fifth, wine glass on the table as he craned around to see if he could catch a glimpse of the gift entering the palace from over the precipice of the stairs. His hand touched against the cold glass with a wet, ichorous drool. He recoiled from with a twitch and looked to it, knocking the thing over with a dull clamour as silver hit quilted woodwork. Luckily, it was already emptied. His palm was lathered with a blackish, seed-ridden pulp of deep red. He had crushed a handful of currants in the stress of things.

Staedtler eyed the table for a loose cloth or napkin to wipe the filth off with. There was an iron-wire framed napkin container center-piecing a pair of honeyed and glazed hams and their blooming dresses of floral vegetation. However, leaning to, he noticed across from him, with the napkins and their porkish entourage sitting between them, was a lone lady in purple dress, idly knifing at something or other on her plate. Dame Sofia looked dreadfully dulled despite the colours of the world around her. Wringing the fruit flesh away, Staedtler saw wisdom in a little bit of playful antics - the breed of wisdom well-afforded by people, four glasses deep into the wine; 'their steel sufficiently whetted,' as he would say to Viscount Donald. Dame Sofia was renowned for her enthusiasm in the more boisterous things, so this should be fun.

Easy friends can be made of the fanatics; you merely have to appeal to their sensibilities.

Staedtler took a pair of ink-black grapes from his bowl, a quaff from a fresh wine glass stolen from an empty seat, two moments to think over his aim, and then looked about to ensure he was unwitnessed. Lady Ciarghuala was entertaining a few of the Lords and Ladies with her conversation to the side, and Lord Matthew was nowhere to be seen. Satisfied, Staedtler nodded to himself and yakked the pair of grapes at Sofia. One struck the plate before her, bouncing away into the dark of the shrubbery, the second missed entirely, shooting far too high and wide to even be noticed.

Staedtler shot back into a dignified pose: cross-legged, straight-backed, pursed lips. He swirled his wine glass and chuckled to himself. Oh, you absolute child.

Evening -- Giask

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

"I read your Treatise with considerable interest," Ciarghuala drained the last of her wine and placed the empty goblet on a passing waiter's tray, "a very clear and insightful work. I have little doubt that one day the Grand Pantry will flourish under your stewardship. If there is anything I can do to assist you with its sequel you need only ask my friend."

William Fitz Roberts

"I think you mistake me for Viscount Matthew, my treatise is not yet published. He was always the one with a head for numbers, I personally am much more versed in legal matters and political thought. Both treatises due for publication cover these areas, as a matter of fact", William paused to take a sip of his wine. He despised the taste of wine, but one had to keep up appearances. It was unseemly for a person of noble stock to drink ale or cider in polite company, and it would have been most improper and even insulting to Viscount Matthew to have brought his own selection of spirits. He would simply have to grin and bear it.

Sofia Nistalia

Sofia was too busy to entertain those enjoying speech, she did not come here for a desire of socializing, or to give hollow praise to those whom she saw as undeserving. She did enjoy the food and wine of the capital, a guildy pleasure of hers that she enjoyed during her brief stays on the capital. It had a special flavor to her, probably only her imagination, but the products made in Luria were always of a superior quality, going through more rigurous checks to make sure everything was in excellent condition.

The food was excellent, and the service too. The servants were closely watched by her bodyguard as she ate, his uncaring eyes just watching the forgettable faces of the servants, then it happened.

A small fruit, flung from the same table she sat on, hit her piece of Askileon Trout, her bodyguard leaning in to whisper as her face finally broke the false expression, showing off clear disappointment, before beckoning the servant who served her the meal, the young boy being loudly punished by the Dame, her temperamental nature exacerbated in her punishment, even if only to keep her image.

"Do you believe it is acceptable to serve a dame such as I, a hero of the people of Luria and a noble of the highest, food of such low quality?" Sofia said in an angered tone, raising with the fork the small berry. "Bring me a plate of food that you would serve to someone of my standing, not to mere cattle!" she yelled, giving an appearance of anger as the servant took her plate away. Once the boy was far enough for her taste, she turned her head towards sir Staedler, she knew what was truly going on, and her eyes said everything. She knew what happened.

Aldrakar Renodin

The King's Ear

Once the king had selected a drink from a more senior steward, the viscount strutted up to the monarch like a stuffed pheasant, offering him a bow, toothy smile, and warm greeting. "My king, I am most pleased you have deigned to see us this day, hopefully the festivities will best your expectations. I trust the wine is to your liking? We've had several of our very own," he motioned back to the other three, "choosing the beverages on display tonight." ~Matthew Coffey

As it is to see you once again Mathew. Aldrakar offered a small smile to the heavyset man. Not long after the Great Lady Ciarghuala was announced. Looking at her entrance Aldrakar paid particular attention to her attendant. The gem on the Great Lady's arm and not the one clasped in precious metal but entwined with the Great Lady's very own arm. A stark contrast in appearance and temperament this other person was. Enjoying great liberty among Ciarghuala herself even. Aldrakar raised an eyebrow and allowed himself a small grin. There were few who labored harder for the Empire than her, he'd allow her these small secrets and breaches of etiquette.

"Lady Emily D'Arcy, may I have the honour of introducing Sir William Fitz Roberts. Sir William is Lord of Bloodstone Manor and a most industrious agent of the Empire." ~Ciarghuala Dubhaine

It was the only line he managed to catch but it was telling enough. To his recollection there was no Great, landed Lady D'Arcy in the Empire. As such, it must be a personal associate of some kind or interest. While it peaked his curiosity, he didn't feel compelled to find out. Some things best remained in the grey rather than the black or the white. Well Mathew, I better try some of those wines then. Nodding in the direction of the table Mathew had signaled out just before. Don't feel spellbound on my account boy. The words almost paternal as he placed a hand on Mathew's shoulder and gave it a token squeeze. Walking up to the table with the wines Aldrakar didn't pay much attention to those people looking at him or feeling suddenly awkward by his casual manner. It was that easy manner that made him notice so distinctly the difference in attitude that Dame Sofia put on display as she shot proverbial daggers at a random servant. Perhaps its that time of the month again. Aldrakar all but muttered to himself as he sampled one of the wines on offer.

Tasting the wine he took a moment to frown, to swirl the liquid in his mouth and finally, savor it as he swallowed it. Mhmmm. The appreciative noise he made as he approached the Great Lady Ciarghuala and the Knight William. Walking confidently and at a deliberately slow pace as to allow Ciarghuala to notice him. He raised his chin as a signal and smiled.

Jeffrey Birkenhead

"So... where exactly is this feast going to take place?"

The ferry from Askileon has arrived in Giask about half an hour ago, and Jeffrey and his cousin Bethany found themselves utterly lost. They strode off the ferry and into the city at a brisk pace, only to discover that they both are unfamiliar with the city's streets.

"I thought you know, Jeff. I have merely been following you." Bethany lets out a short sigh. "I should have known better than to trust you with directions in cities."

Bethany is a young, tall and athletic woman with long, curly, blonde hair with a face that is eerily similar to Jeffrey's considering the two are somewhat distant relatives, except for her not having any kind of beard.

"Come on, Beth, it's not like I was useless in that concern. I know the streets of Askileon just right. Also, I have mostly been at an inn and to the recruitment center here. And don't even mention the times we were here as kids, because that can hardly count as getting to know the city."

"And I was in camp with the rest of the Birkenarrows. Anyways, that should not stop you from knowing where we even are supposed to go. Fix that and we can ask for directions. You still have the letter with you? I sincerely hope you do."

Jeffrey mumbled something to himself and rummaged in his luggage; shortly after, he pulls out an envelope with broken seal of the Coffey family, and begins to read the letter over, all the while reading it out half-loud.

"Ah, there we have it. The palace.", Jeffrey exclaims, apparently louder than he thought he would, judging by him slightly flinching after.

"Great. I know how to get there from the main road, as should you, but not from here. Then let's ask for directions now.", Bethany responds, ever so fixated on getting things done. Looking around, she looks at a commoner that seems to not stink too much, a merchant, by the looks of it. "You there!", she shouts in a commanding, yet neither cold or agressive tone. "Yes, you! Where do we find the palace?" She proceeds to walk up to him and put a few coins of silver in the man's hand, making sure to flash that signet ring of hers. The merchant blushes, before he begins to speak.

"Ah, it is hard to miss! Down the street over there, you take the second left..."

---

At the palace, a short fanfare is blown, and a herald proclaims the relatively late arrival of Jeffrey Birkenhead, Knight of Askileon, and his company, Bethany Birkenhead.

As they both enter the hall where the feast is taking place, they look around to see which seats already are taken and respectively or who is approaching them for a talk.

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

As Margravine of Poryatu it was Ciarghuala's privilege to serve The King of the North and guard the outer approaches of Earth's Hall, a duty she took every bit as seriously as those of Grand Panetier. Though both felt strangely symbolic with the borders secured and the granaries well-stocked.

"Your Highness," Ciarghuala bowed her head in the manner of the Horse-Lords of Niselur, a gesture so ingrained in her youth that she was barely aware of it, "would you care to join us? Sir William was just telling me about the treatise he's been working on these past months."

Donald Augustus Allan

"It's a pleasure to meet you Sir Donald," Emily extended her hand to shake his, "have you travelled far for this evening's festivities?"

Irked slightly as being referred to as Sir Donald rather than Lord Donald or even Viscount Donald, it seemed many had fallen in to a habit. Although, even he would admit that Sir Donald was far more pleasing to the ears than his actual title. But there was no need to mention this, so instead he grinned in his typical manner and said "And a pleasure to meet you too, my Lady. I have indeed travelled, although not that far I will admit; but from Sulorte wherein my manor resides"

"But this is only a small trip for me. Perhaps Lady Ciarghuala may have mentioned, but I have quite literally travelled all across the Empire. Poryatu, Shinnen, Askileon, Garuck Udor..." he waved his hand dismissively, as if the list were far long to mention in one evening, or as if he expected this women to simply know already "I would very much like to travel further a field. Outside the Empire. To Madina, or D'Hara, perhaps?"

He struck a relaxed pose, holding his wine lightly his hand and swirled the dark liquid a little. Trying not to be too overbearing he said "But, please My Lady, tell me more about yourself. I am afraid I know terribly little about the name D'Arcy, perhaps you could-"

Just then a shrill cry rang out amongst the crowd:

"Do you believe it is acceptable to serve a dame such as I, a hero of the people of Luria and a noble of the highest, food of such low quality?"

He stopped and turned slightly to view the scene: Dame Sofia was sat at a table yelling profanities at a serving boy, in her hand she wielded a small silver fork which she jabbed in to the air with each consecutive yell.

"Hero of the people of Luria" Donald said with disdain under his breath before returning to face the Lady D'Arcy and resuming a friendly guise, "please forgive the noble Lady" he chuckled "I'm sure all is well"

10th April

Day -- Giask

Matthew Coffey

Matthew retained a trained smile as the kings attention waned on him, noticeably drifting toward the Grand Panetier and her company. A firm squeeze from the warriors hand snapped the young lord from his niceties, offering Aldrakar an almost quizzical look as he departed. Perhaps Matthew were not used to the casual nature of his liege yet, given his strict squiring to show the appropriate pomp and ceremony in every interaction. He sighed, scanning the gardens now ripe with activity, eyeing all the various groups assembled. Since the crowd grew about the Grand Panetier and her guest, and the exclamation from his vassal dame Sofia put him on edge, he decided upon a different victim.

"I believe I recognise your colours from the campaign to retake Shinnen." a smile crept across his features as he approached the new attendee, sir Jeffrey and his company. "A pleasure to see you here," he nodded to the two of them, "perhaps I might interest you to join the festivities?" With a curt snapping motion to his side, the high-handed noble was soon approached with a plethora of fruit based alcohols. Courteousy of the many guests; he had not ordered a drop of liquor for this event and yet it was in good supply. Plucking a light orange filled glass from the platter, he continued. "How fares the empire in your neck of the woods? I trust all is well, given we have such time to indulge the coming of spring. I imagine the entertainment will be joining us soon, if I could but see the man..." Another quick glance about the bustling gardens did not reveal the alchemist that Matthew had paid for, but no doubt he was lurking around somewhere. Perhaps preparing for the show? He hoped it would satisfy the tastes of the nobility present, given the vastness of Greater Luria, he expected nothing to be exotic to the eye at this point. His attention returned to the two, smiling, before taking a grateful sip of his labours.

Aldrakar Renodin

"Your Highness," Ciarghuala bowed her head in the manner of the Horse-Lords of Niselur, a gesture so ingrained in her youth that she was barely aware of it, "would you care to join us? Sir William was just telling me about the treatise he's been working on these past months." ~ Ciarghuala Dubhaine

Aldrakar inclined his head in recognition of the Great Lady's bow. Indeed I would. His eyes calmly drank in the image of Sir William. The man was tall and well build, everything physically needed to be an excellent warrior. It pleased him that the next generation was in possession of such quality. What kind of treatise would that be? The exchange of Lord Donald caught but only hovering in the perifere of his attention.

William Fitz Roberts

Aldrakar inclined his head in recognition of the Great Lady's bow. Indeed I would. His eyes calmly drank in the image of Sir William. The man was tall and well build, everything physically needed to be an excellent warrior. It pleased him that the next generation was in possession of such quality. What kind of treatise would that be? The exchange of Lord Donald caught but only hovering in the perifere of his attention.

William bowed his head respectfully. "Your Grace, I have two in the works as we speak. The first is a political treatise, and is a collection of my thoughts on the proper way Lurian rulers should conduct themselves. Not just the Emperor, but every noble of Luria, as each noble rules over his own lands. I am of the impression that if every noble followed the thirty maxims I have set out, the Empire would be far more efficiently run, without individuals vainly seeking their own glory and riches as the expense of the realm" at these words, William briefly glanced at Lord Donald, a subtle level of accusation present behind his grey eyes.

"My other treatise concerns a far dire matter, as it is my arguments for an immediate criminalisation of magic in all its forms, and the strict control of marriage licences to those who do wish to practice magic. Everywhere I have looked I have seen signs of witchcraft and foul sorcery, just the other month I was receiving letter after letter about some commoner attempting to sell an incantation that would summon foul beasts into the world. That is clearly nothing short of witchcraft. I am frankly horrified that the laws concerning magic are so lax in our Empire and I hope that my treatise will convince others the need for change"

Aldrakar Renodin

The first is a political treatise, and is a collection of my thoughts on the proper way Lurian rulers should conduct themselves. Not just the Emperor, but every noble of Luria, as each noble rules over his own lands. I am of the impression that if every noble followed the thirty maxims I have set out, the Empire would be far more efficiently run, without individuals vainly seeking their own glory and riches as the expense of the realm' at these words. My other treatise concerns a far dire matter, as it is my arguments for an immediate criminalisation of magic in all its forms, and the strict control of marriage licences to those who do wish to practice magic. ~William Fitz Roberts

Listens to the stalwart Knight he casually sipped from his wine. Offering a nod here and a affirmative sound there. Morality, Chivalry, Conduct. Quite the subjects. The sentence was finished with the raising of his wineglass. Seems like you may be attempting to govern a whole lot more than simply courtesy's. Are you sure that would indeed be a good thing? The full weight of Aldrakar's gaze rested on William as the middle aged man delivered his words. As to the use of Magic, it is the same as steel I feel. A playful smile threatened to surface upon his lips. In the hands of a brigand it causes harm but in the hands of a knight, such as yourself, it does good. With raised eyebrows and a teasing twinkle in his eyes Aldrakar invited William to respond.

Jeffrey Birkenhead

Soon after they entered the staging ground of the festivities, Jeffrey and Bethany, both dressed up appropriately to the occasion, but not spectacularly or outrageously fashionable, were approached by a stout figure

"I believe I recognise your colours from the campaign to retake Shinnen." a smile crept across his features as he approached the new attendee, sir Jeffrey and his company. "A pleasure to see you here," he nodded to the two of them, "perhaps I might interest you to join the festivities?" With a curt snapping motion to his side, the high-handed noble was soon approached with a plethora of fruit based alcohols. [...] Plucking a light orange filled glass from the platter, he continued. "How fares the empire in your neck of the woods? I trust all is well, given we have such time to indulge the coming of spring. I imagine the entertainment will be joining us soon, if I could but see the man..."

Jeffrey looked at the man, searching for anything that might identify him before asking for a name, before spotting a familiar emblem on him.

"Ah, Sir Matthew Coffey, our gracious host, I take it? A pleasure to meet you; we did not have the time to talk with each other yet, did we? Yes, indeed, the campaign to retake Shinnen, I took part in it. My first,and so far only, campaign 'twas..." While Bethany intently observed the nobility gathered all over the place, Jeffrey turned his attention to the alcohols that got handed, and decided to take a cup with a liquid in a deep crimson hue. "The north is peaceful these days, almost boringly so. Askileon is well defended, and I instructed the captain of my Birkenarrows to patrol our northern borders."

Taking a swallow from his drink, he obviously did not expect it to be quite as strong as it turned out to be, judging by the grimace he is making for a second. Said grimace turns into an expression of pleasure almost instantly, though.

"That is quite the appealing beverage! What part of Dwilight is responsible for crafting such a fine drink?" Jeffrey rose the cup to his nose to smell the liquid, but then glances over to his cousin, seeing her neither paying attention to the conversation at hand nor showing any interest in the liquors offered. "Bethany, why don't you take something to drink?"

Bethany turned to Jeffrey almost instantly, nodded and took a glass filled with a fragrant, amber potation, before averting her attention again.

Jeffrey sighed, and faced Matthew.

William Fitz Roberts

Listens to the stalwart Knight he casually sipped from his wine. Offering a nod here and a affirmative sound there. Morality, Chivalry, Conduct. Quite the subjects. The sentence was finished with the raising of his wineglass. Seems like you may be attempting to govern a whole lot more than simply courtesy's. Are you sure that would indeed be a good thing? The full weight of Aldrakar's gaze rested on William as the middle aged man delivered his words. As to the use of Magic, it is the same as steel I feel. A playful smile threatened to surface upon his lips. In the hands of a brigand it causes harm but in the hands of a knight, such as yourself, it does good. With raised eyebrows and a teasing twinkle in his eyes Aldrakar invited William to respond.

William listened to Aldrakar's words, carefully considering his response. "Yes, but do we allow brigands by law to bear swords? No, we do not. Swords and axes and spears are limited by law to be carried only by those trusted by the realm. We do not allow peasants to walk around with pikes and bows and shields. If we saw a band armed as such, we would stop and apprehend them. The same must be said for magic. It must be controlled, it must be regulated, it must only be done by those with good intentions. However, even then how can magic ever be done with good intentions truly? There is too much risk involved. Yes the occasional magic item might be used to serve the realm, but there is nothing to prevent it being used against us. As you will see in the treatise, there are far too many incidences of magic being used for evil for it not to be regulated, to be controlled. The current laws are frankly inadequate. If, by your very argument, a brigand with a blade does evil and a knight with a blade does good, and under law we prevent a brigand from bearing arms but allow a knight to do so, your own logic would suggest that magic too must be regulated. That is all the treatise calls for, regulation. This is so it is not abused and the realm falls into chaos. Or would you see the east become the west? The west fell because one wizard was allowed too much power"

Evening -- Giask

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

Emily soaked in the ambiance of the gathering as she gently probed Donald on his various adventures, readily sharing her easy laughter and warm smile as his anecdotes deserved. A cluster of younger officers and court hangers-on started to gather around them, initially attracted by Em's exotic charm but drawn in by the Vice-Marshal's thrilling tales and soon enough the conversation was sufficiently intent that Em was able to slip away unnoticed, ever the glamorous enigma.

Meanwhile Sir William was busily extolling the virtues of a crackdown on magic and those who practiced it, a topic on which Ciarghuala felt he was poorly informed. Growing up in the Zuma badlands had certainly given her a healthy respect for the dangers sorcery posed and she'd faced her share of crazed necromancers on her voyages across the Inland Sea. But in her experience laws were only respected by those who were already law-abiding. To outlaw all magic would drive the many who dabbled innocently enough into the same company as those who posed a genuine danger. Perhaps if Sir William had been there when the West fell he might understand that...

Thankfully Em chose that moment to place an arm around her shoulder and whisper something in the Margravine's ear, prompting her to make her excuses. A breath of fresh air, a leisurely moonlit stroll in the formal gardens, and then perhaps a bite to eat? The evening still had so much to offer.