Le Craint Family/Mariana le Craint/The Tournament In Rines
Mariana, Maura and Marcus
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus ran about, the pavilions had been set up earlier this morning and there were finally enough tables and chairs for at least 300 nobles and their parties if not more, the sword fighting area had been set up and watered so the rough dirt was a slick mud, whilst the jousting rows were located a little over to the right of the Sword fighting arena and the training area set up to the right.
"Steward!" the scribe once again walked over tapping their checklist "Almost everything seems to be in order, all we need is to sort out the entertainment." Marcus nodded and took the list of possible entertainers, Jugglers, Actors, a Circus?, Singers, Bands "Tell them all to meet me by the beach in 2 hours, I will then see what their performances are like." Marcus then walked over to the training yard it was there he spotted a familiar face amongst those training, he walked over and called out to his friend "Countess le Craint!" he noticed that something seemed different about her but only slightly different, Marcus too had changed since the party, he wore the black and silver of Steward and had opted to shave his beard and cut his hair shorter, he hoped that she would still recognise him. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| Finally, she had arrived. The long journey to the tournament grounds had been tiring. She approached the stables, offering the leads to a nearby stablehand and gave him a gold piece. She unsheathed her sword and unclipped her pack from the horses back. She dusted herself down and headed towards the entrance. A steward holding a piece of parchment, surrounded by armed guards, caught sight of Mariana and stood at attention. He inspected his list once more before turning and bowing before her.
"Greetings Countess Mariana le Craint. Welcome to the tournament grounds. A tent has been set up for you just within the courtyard. If there is anything else you need, do not hesitate to ask." Mariana gave the man a gentle smile and entered into the grounds. The man cleared his throat and announced her arrival. "Countess Mariana le Craint has arrived." Mariana reached her tent. She threw back the flaps of the tent and pushed her way in. The interior was rather luxurious for a simple tent. A large double bed with a screen placed before it. An extravagant vanity with a large crystal mirror, lined with makeup and powders. Mariana shrugged this off and placed her pack at the end of her bed. She checked behind her before taking out simple leathers and pieces of polished armour. She reached behind her and unlatched the clasp on her dress. Carefully piecing together each segment of armour. She had chosen a different set of armour to her usual type. This set was more appropriate for a parade rather than actual combat but it would serve itself within the bounds of the tournament. Before long she was ready. She took a hold of her dagger first. Inspecting the blade and the pommel, she placed it onto the holster on her boots. She then took a hold of her blade. Polished and never used, it shined unnaturally in the candle light. She smiled and stepped outside her tent towards the training grounds. As she was testing her sword arm, striking ferociously into the air before her. She has began to amass a small crowd of people around her. Mostly comprised of officials and others who were competing. However, mid swing, she heard a voice she recognised. She stopped and turned her head. She sheathed her sword, approached the man and held out her hand in greeting. "Steward Marcus Daubeny, it is good to see you again." She looked him over, he had changed since they last met. More experienced some would say, but it was still the same man that invited her to the ball. "How have you been, it must have been at least a season since we last met. A change in style? I must say it suits you greatly, quite dashing indeed." She laughed politely, leading Marcuc away from the public training grounds towards a private stand that had been set up for nobles. "Have you come to partake in the tournament or are you just here inspecting the grounds? I must say I am quite excited, this is my first tournament afterall, a test to see if my time in the army has yielded anything." | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus slightly blushed, "Thank you Countess Mariana, I thought it would do me well to change my look to be more "Official" looking."
He followed her over to the private stands of the nobility, "Have you come to partake in the tournament or are you just here inspecting the grounds? I must say I am quite excited, this is my first tournament afterall, a test to see if my time in the army has yielded anything." "I am participating but It is mostly my job to oversee the Oracle's party as I am technically the run running it though it was the Oracle who declared it, I too am quite excited from what I saw back there you have quite a good arm on you, you will most certainly be a terrifying opponent t face, I almost feel sorry for the poor nobles who will have to face you and I hope I am not one of them." | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura stumbled clumsily through the enclosed noble area of the tournament grounds, when suddenly she noticed a shape that she recognized after brief yet intense recollection.
"Lady Mariana!" - she rasped, grabbing at the air as if to set her course towards long missed acquaintance. She was not even halfway there when she noticed an agreeable young gentleman in Mariana's company. She stopped immediately and spoke in a tone much too loud for discreet matters: "Forgive me! I didn't mean to intrude upon your trysting! Carry on!" Then she turned on her heel and walked back hurriedly towards the training area. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| "You exaggerate. I am still mostly inexperienced in martial combat, this kind at least."
She chuckled slightly, tapping the pommel of her sword. "Well I shall be interested in seeing how you fight. This gives us a chance to assess the nobles ability and show off what we have learned. I am quite excited for it. You have done a wonderful job so far, I shall continue to look out for it." Mariana craned her neck slightly, she overheard a voice she recognised. One that she had not heard in such a long time, one that was unmistakable. Mariana laughed at this. She couldn't hold it in. Her joy over such a reunion was too much. She turned once again to Marcus. "Sir Marcus, would you mind allowing Lady Maura to join us? We shall have to continue this... trysting... another time." She smiled and winked towards Marcus before towards the direction that Maura. She hadn't got too far away. Mariana took a few steps forward and in a similar voice to Maura, mimicking her lack of discretion, she called out to her. "Lady Maura, a moment of you time if you may." She smirked, holding out her hand. There was a moment of awkwardness, unsure as to whether going in for a hug was too much. Settling on a handshake. "I... still cant quite believe it. Its is good to see you well. What happened? If you dont mind me asking. Your letter was.. surprising to say the least." | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus looked surprised when he heard a new voice call out to Mariana.
He turned and saw a another noble approach she seemed a bit embarrassed when her gaze settled on him she turned and left, He was about to tell Mariana that of course she could join them when he heard the familiar rasp of, "Steward!" The scribe hobbled over, "The Entertainers are ready by the beach." Marcus nodded and looked back to the exchange between the newcomer and Mariana, "Just a moment." He told the scribe. He was just about to walk over when Mariana say, "I... still cant quite believe it. Its is good to see you well. What happened? If you dont mind me asking. Your letter was.. surprising to say the least." He stopped and decided to leave these two to their reunion, he quickly said to Mariana as he walked away "Lady Mariana I must take my leave if you and Lady Maura are in the mood, do come down to the beach later, I have a felling I will be there of a while" He walked off towards the beach with the scribe following writing furiously on his checklist. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura motioned to departing nobleman as soon as he was out of an earshot: "Good pick. Comely. Seems to have his wits about him. Favoured by the Oracle, since she allows him handle..." - she waved her finger in air pointing at all the features of the tournament - "... this."
Once the ladies were alone Maura took Mariana by the arm, prompting her former protege to guide them in a slow stroll to a more convenient spot, all the while talking vividly, yet keeping the tone of voice reasonably conspirational. Maura was much thinner and certainly shakier than the last time they saw each other, she was holding younger Inquisitor's arm tightly enough so that she could steady herself and evoke at least a mockery of the image she used to be - a formidable warrior, a motionless sentinel, a shield of the Faith; now merely a shadow of her former self, yet a shadow content with her ability to act her part. "The odd letter... yes..." - her face darkened - "let's just say I meddled with things I didn't quite understand, I thought I had control when I had none and learnt my mistake too late..." - she continued in a hurried whisper, barely audible: "...no that's not right not too late too late would be with me not here at all would it not yes it would..." - "... where was I? Just in time! Is when I've... learnt." They leisurely walked several more meters - "Certainly one ought to come equipped with something better than parlor tricks when attempting to enslave a beast from beyond the veil, and most certailny one ought not apply trivial intelect to otherworldly matters... Good Mariana! How things have changed! I recall sending Lord Divus and Sir Ferdinand off to rain misery upon Mordok heretics and now I hear they seat half the Grand Council. I defended southern border with little more than stones and pitchforks against endless hordes and now I see maps of the Holy Realm stretch from coast to coast. One might think that Obeah Herself walked the earth to bring us to the light." Another couple of steps they passed - "and you! Dear, you must tell me of your exploits, as promissed. I recall my time in those exact same boots most fondly. Tell me, what is the most curious one as of yet." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| Mariana smiled as they began to walk. The mistake about Mariana and Marcus made by Maura was most amusing to Mariana. She did not wish to dispel that rumor just yet. She thought to herself; Maybe this will cause ire in Ferdinand mind also.
As they walked, Mariana kept a good grip on Maura. Ensuring that she did not stumble and fall. The occasional slip on the ground was just about the only worry. The crowds were beginning to move around. Others were beginning to arrive at the tournament and the guests attention were spread thin. They could easily slip away from the crowds. Mariana listened as Maura rambled on, all the more concerned. What could have happened to cause such a change of character. However, she wished not to press the issue further. Instead, she enjoyed their stroll around the tournament grounds. Oh she had so much to say, so much she wanted to say. She thought for a moment of how she would phrase this. "Well, it is certainly true that a lot has changed. That much is for certain. While Mordok still lives, their unholy land has been desecrated. For a moment, we worried for the safety of the Grandmistress, who took a wound. We were lucky to see that she recovered." She glanced around, ensuring they were along before whispering in a hushed tone. "While I personally do not know what has happened to those who once lived in those vile lands, my hopes is that they not to far so that I may bring them their punishment." She smiled and winked at Maura before continuing to speak. "Our borders have grown a lot. From a time when we had little, we now have a lot. Lands stretching all across out little peninsula. Obeah has blessed our realm truly. Even giving me the opportunity to become a countess, something I was unsure if I would ever see. Now I look after Bolkenia, a land that had been left uncontrolled for so long. Only recently I had to purge some worshipers of daimonic entities. However, you ask specifically about my deeds, now that is an interesting story." Calmness came over Mariana as she though of the peace of the wilds. The ruins of the known world with little company. "My travels took me far beyond these hold lands. Up north as far as the ruined city of Dyomoque. As far west as Worvobaen. I have seen much in my travels. At times, I greatly miss those days. My hopes are they I shall spend another season or so with the army then return to the wilds." She leaned in closely to Maura and whsipered again in a hushed tone. "The gold that was found lying around in the wilds has provided much to our realm. Through donations to the army's and to the rebuilding of Bolkenia, it has been most useful." She laughed again. The two of them continued walking. The smell of roasting meet had filled the air as the spits had been prepared for the evening feast. Mariana raised her nose and took a deep sniff. "It seems they are preparing a feast of a kind. Would you care to join me? I could tell you more about my encounters in the wilds. Especially one surprising encounter with a knight." | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| "A feast..." - Maura felt moisture accumulating in her mouth - "... yes. Let's." - she jabbed Mariana with her elbow to imply urgency and sniffed the air for aroma of a roast. "And do tell me of those encounters. A knight in the wilds does sound like a wild tale." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| Mariana took a tight hold of Maura's arm and led them towards the origins of the smell. A large fire pit with a range of different meats were strung up on polls over the fire. A very proud looking chef was twirling a roasting hog on a spit while sous chefs rushed around with plate of other meats and foodstuffs. Mariana led them towards a table nearby the fire pit where other nobles had begun to gather. Promptly a well dressed server came over, a woollen cloth resting over his arm.
"Greetings Lady Maura, Countess Mariana, Can I get you something to drink? We have a fine selection of wines that have been imported just for this occasion as well as ales from all across the continent." Mariana pondered for a moment, looking towards Maura who was fideting slightly in her chair. "Bring a bottle of wine, the finest import from Dwilight. I have a craving for a taste of home." The man quickly departed and left Mariana and Maura to themselves. Mariana leaned back in her chair, listening to the crackling of the fire. "Now where was I... oh yes of course. The man in the wilderness. Now that is an interesting story. It was during my expedition to Dyomoque. I was preparing to set up camp when I found recent tracks of another, as if they had just been there. I decided to follow, for my personal safety and curiosity. Turns out, it was made by a noble named Alyn Fontaine.." She paused for a moment, seeing if that name came with a response from Maura. "I managed to leave a letter for him to find, to see what kind of response I would get. He agreed to meet with me that evening. The two of us talked for quite some time, I learnt much about Nothoi from him. Information I am certain will prove valuable one day." Finishing her sentence, the server came back with a bottle of red wine. He took two polished crystal glasses and placed them on the table. Uncorked the wine and poured the deep red liquid into the glasses. The wine fell still and settled like an untouched lake on a winters morning. He bowed and departed once again. Mariana took a hold of the glass, sniffed deeply into the wine. Memories of home flooded her mind. She took a sip and was transported to her home. The sounds, the smells, all if it felt real. Feelings she had not had since she was younger filled her mind. She smiled and looked towards Maura, she held up her glass. "How about a toast? To the good ol' times and the unpredictable future." | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura took in the smell of wine and put the fragile vessel back down. "You forgot I don't drink anymore. Spirits give elation but tax a hefty price on some." - she motioned for hesitating Mariana, conveying in her gesture that it is alright for her to drink.
"The other carnal sensations must suffice." - she pulled back the sleeves of a modest noble outfit, not denoting her as an Inquisitor or anyone other than a simple noble for that matter, and she pointed for a servant to cut her a slice of the roast. In between crude bites Maura continued - "speaking of carnal sensations - Nothoian knight in a forest, was the steward not jealous? During my time in the wilds trolls were the most interesting company I ever got to occupy my evenings..." - just as she was talking her eyes shot up in surprise, seeing a familiar shape approach the steward. "Blast it!" - she cursed wiping her hands in her overcoat as she turned around to hide her presence - "show me your quarters here. I mean - please..." - Maura courtesied, likely for the first time in her life, it looked as if she sprained an ankle - "dear Mariana, do you perhaps have, uhm... impractical attire?" | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura was just heading with Mariana to the camp by the tournament grounds when the horns gave sound - final preparations, melee combat was about to begin.
She shrugged - "ah, Mariana, no matter. I will go to the arena now." And she departed. Her old plate armour awaited her on an armour stand. It took her a while to put it on and when she did she noticed that it seems much heavier than before. She picked up a one-and-a-half-handed sword and it too was much heavier than when she wielded it a long time ago. She quickly made her way to the arena. As her visor fell her smile rose behind it, for opposite her she saw Alacrix. The last time the two fought was very enjoyable. She wondered if this time would be alike. "Sir Alacrix!" - she shouted - "may Obeah bless this fight." She changed at her opponent, sword raised high. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
Tournament Activity
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian rode into the tournament grounds and looked around the area. He was amazed at how quickly everything had come together. He found the grounds where his tent was pitched and entered. There were simple accommodations, a few chairs and tables, a rather large cot, and plenty of tobacco.
He noticed a large trunk by his cot, it housed his various sets of armor and weaponry. He nodded his approval before strapping on one of his favorite sword and sword belts and venturing through the grounds. He saw the former Grand Chancellor showing off, Vahanian judged the man's skill with a practiced eye and moved on. He found his way to the blademasters large tent and asked for the honor of a sparring session, they obliged him and he worked with them for an hour or two. Slowly at first, exercising the fatigue and tiredness from his muscles. Then he began to pick up the speed and intensity. The blademaster he sparred with was far superior but didn't press his advantage, just simply held Vahanian at bay until Vahanian adapted. It was a unique teaching method, and one that Vahanian responded to well. His mind soared at the challenge. He filed away the style for future study and use. After his training session Vahanian thanked the men, paid them their fee and left the tent to wander some more. He wondered at who else would arrive. He wished his pupil, Ferdinand, would be able to attend, but knew all too well that matters of state often prevented the luxury of attending such events. He would have enjoyed their sparring match. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian leaned against the support pole for a tent as he watched Jorvik show off again, smoke wafted from his lips and nostrils and surrounded him like a shroud as he puffed on his pipe. A shaky, yet vaguely familiar voice called out to the young knight from a half-hidden chair.
"It can't be.." Vahanian muttered to himself. Her form was familiar, and yet foreign. Where confidence and sturdiness once stood, was now occupied by a shakiness and an almost fragility. The familiar individual looked his way, and Vahanian knew in an instant it was true. A face can change, hair can change, gestures, mannerisms can all be changed, but eyes remain the same. He saw it in her eyes, it was Maura. Vahanian's oldest friend and councilor emerged from the tent and muttered something to Vahanian and he shook his head, not lifting his gaze from Maura. "No, leave her be, she knows where to find us." Baldwin seemed put off by that statement and Vahanian reassured him "Trust me, there are maybe two places we could hide in the city that she wouldn't find us. She knows the tunnels that run under the city like the back of her hand." Baldwin muttered back to his lord "What tunnels?" Vahanian smiled a wolfish smile and said "Exactly." | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| The horse was settled and the day was waning into the early evening as Ruairí made his final check. It had been but a few hours before when he had received the reply from the Grand Templar to give him leave to join the tournament, and Ruairí wasn't one to waste time. His Captain Morena was the first person he informed, as she would be the defacto leader of his Kestrels while he was away. Next came the meeting with Morena, Colm, and Maebh, the full leadership of his unit, to go over the training plan for the soldiers while he was gone. The rest of his morning had been making the final preparations to Rines.
"Alright lads, I'm off to make a damned fool of myself. So that means you will have to make up for me until I get back. I expect the best of you in the guarding of our holy land, follow the Captain's orders, and show the honor of our band." The youthful Lord would say astride his horse and framed in the golden rays of the sun. His hazel hues eyes cast a final glance over the assembled lot and with a grin he gave his final parting shot, "Who knows next time you see me you might be addressing the tournament's champion." His exuberance carried on the playful manner to which he spoke as Ruairí was well aware of his abilities. His goal was simply to make a good showing and build connections. The politics being of equal, if not greater import to the lad. With a final cheer from his Kestrels sounding at his back Ruairí set off. Off to Rines, and off to the adventure that awaited. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Agamemnon Polemistis | |
| Agamemnon enters Rhines nervously. This is his first time entering a tournament. And he knows many accomplished and skilled swordsmen and women will be here. He does not want to look foolish. He focuses a moment and realizes that even being young, he has already accomplished much.
"This is what you have been working towards," Agamemnon said to himself. "All the times you missed getting into trouble with your friends, you were swinging a sword or learning how to lead in battle. Stand tall, and carry your name proudly. She is always watching and is the reason you are on this path." He continues walking down the familiar streets and past his previous estate. The hustle and bustle of the city brings a smile across his face. He takes in a deep breath, and upon exhaling realizes that today truly begins the tale of Agamemnon Polemistis. | |
| Agamemnon Polemistis | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| As soon as Marcus arrived to the Tournament Grounds a scribe ran straight for him "Steward!" he called.
"I am so glad you are here there are many things that must be overseen, food, entertainment and many other things." He nodded and took the check list from the scribe. "Let us begin by setting up the Pavilions and acquiring tables and seats." He started walking around the new tournament grounds, it had a very beautiful view of the sea and he had heard there was a beach nearby. As he walked past the Grand stand he noticed that it was very, well, Grand. It was made of mahogany and polished to a shine, he noticed the booth that was shaded and decorated with a thin cloth of deep purple, clearly this is where the Grand Mistress and the Oracle will be seated. "Steward? Are you listening?" Marcus turned back to the scrub "Sorry my mind was elsewhere." The scribe nodded and repeated himself "We have many chefs coming far and wide to try and serve food here at the Oracles party, it is up to you to choose whose cuisine will be served to our Esteemed guests." Marcus smiled at the prospect of taste testing all this food "How many dishes must I pick?' The scribe looked at the list "40 or so Steward." Marcus now looked mildly concerned, how many dishes must he try? | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| It was a long journey to Rines but he finally made it. He looked around the grounds at the people he would be up against. He was taken aback to see The Oracle herself fighting as well as priestess Eva. Well this will be interesting, he thought. To Alacrix there was only one person that he was on the lookout for. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| The day of the tournament was fast approaching and already many of those seeking to participate had filled the streets of Rines. That most holy of cities was a buzz with life, music, the call of the merchants selling their wares, and Ruairí found himself there in the midst of it all. It filled the dark haired youth with a greater vibrancy as he was able to truly take in his adopted homeland and her people in a way he had not yet had the privilege to do since arriving on Beluaterra. Surely it must have been a blessing of Obeah that his arrival had coincided so well with the timing of the tournament.
In the days that had passed Ruairí's time was often split between the training grounds, his own minor pavilion, and the taverns at night. It was early on that the young knight decided to forgo training with the sword. Even in his youth it had never been the weapon he had proven well with, and why he took up the bow when he did. So it was the joust that Ruairí dedicated himself to bettering in. The lad knew he wasn't likely to win the grand prize of the tournament, but he did seek to give the best showing he could and the joust offered him the best opportunity. So day and night the knight could be found working with his horse, steadying his arm and his aim, and the progress gained actually was beginning to bare fruit. It left certain ideas for the future, but that was for a different time. When not training Ruairí was keeping up with the politics of the realm. The back and forths, and sending his own private missives out here and there to make some of the moves to see his goals furthered. When the path was revealed and his suspicion confirmed he had set pen to paper to reaffirm his convictions. "This will change so much." Ruairí mused in the privacy of his pavilion, "I suppose it will be interesting to see what they all have to say." The young knight added with a chuckle as he left the comfort of the pavilion and made his way to one of the taverns to celebrate the coming birth of a new realm in the land. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| The Oracle had summoned Lord Herald Eva to attend her at High Noon, right in the very midst of the ongoing Tournament and attendant celebrations. Eva was not late, but it was a minor pilgrimage up the wound halls and stairways of the immense palace that was The Basilica of Rines. The journey was enough to exhaust the physically-able, much more so those who lead more sedentary lifestyles. Eva could understand how the Oracle, widely known as a reclusive woman, would value the...natural discouragement to ward off all but the most determined of callers. To say nothing of the security! It felt to Eva as though she were stopped and challenged without end by the Oracle's Paladins, blue-armored sentinels that patrolled the Basilica in pairs and stood guard at various points all the way to the Oracle herself. What's more, Eva noted, they all seemed to know exactly who she was and what business she was on, yet still each pair queried her as if they knew nothing of the sort. To call the unnatural barriers the Oracle erected around herself substantial would be something of an understatement. Small wonder why half the court thought the Oracle a mystery.
Then, as the bells of noon began to ring across the Moonlight City, Eva was at last admitted to the Oracle's foremost sanctum. The Solarium was the architectural marvel of the Basilica of Rines. Placed at the pinnacle of the large central tower, the Solarium was the highest room in southern Beluaterra. The room was only accessible by a long, wide, winding flight of steps that eventually reached a trap door, now open. Upon emerging, most visitors first notice the Solarium's ceiling and learn how this room got its name. It's ceiling and walls were a latticework of bronze-plated supports and pains of clear glass forming a dome over a room about the size of a dining hall and ringed by a circular balcony that afforded a better view of Rines to those that were brave enough to walk it. A low, comfortable couch sat atop a thick blue carpet set along the western edge sat facing the wooded hills of Athol Margos, poised to welcome the moonrise. Vases and hangings filled with exotic plants were spaced regularly throughout. Arcane symbols had been painted in intricate golden patterns across the stone floor. A circular table of hasty but solid construct had been arranged in the center. Outside, the night was alight with stars and the rising crescent moon, if not for the lanterns that had been lit for the summit, visitors to the Solarium might get the impression that they were walking among those celestial bodies. Whereas in the daytime, curtains of sheer white linen hung from the supports like banners, billowing with the slightest breeze, protecting occupants from the blazing sunlight. It was a bright day outside and sunlight sliced through the spaces left between the linen shades, leaving shifting pools of a radiance across the stonework floor. It was in one of these pools of gold that Eva laid eyes upon the Oracle for the first time. Rania Eastersand JeVondair sat cross-legged on one of the two thick, comfortable cushions near the Solarium's center with a thick tome in her hands. The Oracle of Obeah was a striking figure. Tall for a woman, even seated, and slender of frame but strong of build. At age 60, she wouldn't be fighting anymore duels, and her once-chocolate hair was now liberally threaded with bands of silver, but to look at her was to gain the impression that she certainly still could if the need arose. Rania wore the stately, comfortable white robes of her vocation. Across her face she wore a symbolic, ceremonial veil of religious office denoting her allegiance to the Veiled Goddess. And, Eva noticed, marking this meeting as official Heraldic business. In short, she looked like the woman she was rumored to be: A priestess, a queen, and an eminently capable sorceress. Rania looked up with an unsurprised expression and smiled, gesturing to the cushion seated opposite her in open invitation. "Welcome, Little Sister," she said, eyes glinting in the sunlight. "We have such sights to show you..." | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Agamemnon Polemistis | |
| Agamemnon walked into the sword fighting ring for his first match. Lord Gigax Pilesar, a friend.
"Gigax my friend. Fitting we would face each other first. Let her guide our hand." The fight was true. Gigax attacked vigorously, but in the end Agamemnon stood tall. "Good fight my friend." After getting a drink to ready for the next round, Agamemnon heard his name. He walked proudly to the ring and immediately his heart sank. "Duke Vahanian", I exclaimed to myself. "I just saw him take down Marshal Antonia and she once ripped a man's head clean off. He is one of the greatest swords in our realm if not all of the land. And he is next..." Agamemnon moved into position and the fight began. Parry, strike, parry, strike. Vahanian bellowed as he came in to attack again. Once again he missed. Growing confident Agamemnon went on the attack. Using his quickness to his advantage, Agamemnon was able to thwart any attack and strike convincingly. The final strike was thrown. The crowd was momentarily silent as Agamemnon stood over Duke Vahanian. "Lord Agamemnon!", shouted the crowd. Agamemnon lowered his hand and helped Duke Vahanian to his feet. "It was an honor Duke Vahanian." Agamemnon strolled out of the ring. He stopped when he was alone and fell to his knees. "Obia I thank you for this gift you have given me. I thank you for giving me the opportunity to show the others. I am young but I am strong." Agamemnon heard his name once again. Upon entering the ring he eyed Countess Mariana, a very formidable opponent. The match begins. The fight takes time as the two test each other out. One false move the it is over. A beautiful series of strikes and parries before the Countess sees her opening. Agamemnon reaches too far. Over. The Countess helps Agamemnon to his feet. "I'll be honest, I have no idea what happened." Countess Mariana just smiles and takes her bow. Agamemnon retreats to his tent with his head held high, proud of what he had accomplished. | |
| Agamemnon Polemistis | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian was matched against Antonia in the first round. He swore internally, she was a steady hand with her weaponry and a good friend. He'd watched her fight many times.
She launched her attack at him with her usual ferocity, and Vahanian danced back parrying and countering. These two friends were signing the song of battle, and dancing the dance of swords. It was a song and dance that Vahanian knew well and loved more. Antonia was strong, and she hammered away at his own defenses with her might. He misjudged one of her strikes and her training blade struck his shoulder with her nearly her full strength. He heard more than felt his shoulder pop. He winced in pain and it took all his willpower to keep a hand on his blade. A few moments later he saw his opportunity, a hole in Antionia's defense. He struck and scored. The Arbiter called the match in his favor and he grinned at his friend. "Well fought, my lady." Vahanian said as he bowed to her, hiding his pain and wounded shoulder. He would fight through it, if he won it would only add to his legend. If he lost, well defeat was the best tutor. Vahanian's gaze swept through the assembled crowd and he caught glimpse of Stheno and Rania sitting in their personal, private, viewing box. He stepped into the ring nursing his shoulder a bit, and faced off against Agamemnon. He nodded to the young margrave and the match stared. The young lord was fast, and skilled. Vahanian had misjudged the man during the nights leading up to the tournament. Agamemnon darted in and out of Vahanian's reach. His shoulder screamed in protest to his movement. He stepped in, aggressively, frustrated with pain, and as soon as he lunged he knew he'd lost. Agamemnon parried and countered, the perfect move. Blade met shoulder once more, Vahanian's hand disobeyed his commands and dropped the blade, he himself dropped to a knee and the Arbiter called the match. Agamemnon stood over Vahanian and offered him a hand. Vahanian was irate. He breathed, took the hand that had been offered and said "Obeah favored you this day, well fought." He inclined his head and took his leave. Vahanian stepped off the sands and into the staging area and with a deep breath and great difficulty, threw his shoulder into the corner of a wall. With another audible pop he felt his shoulder return to it's socket. He beat his leg to prevent the scream, and sat on a bench to rest. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| The tournament was over. Mariana was bruised and beaten but she was proud. Having made it the semi-final at her first tournament was something to be proud of. Maura had departed as soon as the tournament had started. During her downtime, Mariana watched the different matches. Her final match with Alacrix was exhilarating.
Now she was preparing for her departure. She wished she could stay for the party however she had little time. Her tent had been packed up, her horse readied for the long journey and supplies prepped. She checked her pack a final time. Her ceremonial armor had been cleaned and repaired and sent back to her estate in Bolkenia. Her pack now was lighter. Her crossbow hung on her back and her dagger at her side. She had received word that her unit was well however they were in need of payment. She would not trust that responsibility to a messenger. The evening came soon. People were still enjoying the festivities of the tournament grounds. Taverns were still serving alcohol, nobles remained to socialize. Others were gathering for the party. Mariana did not have that luxury. With the moon high in the sky, she saw this as the perfect time to set off. She took her thick woolen cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. Her breath forming vapor as it left her mouth. She rubbed her hands before mounting her horse. There were a few others setting off along with her that night. An assortment of nobles and knight alike. She set off down the road, out of the gates of Rines, towards Avengmil. Moonlight hung over the road like a guardian angle, lighting up the path ahead. The crisp air and gentle breeze caused Mariana to shiver. She wrapped her arms around her, holding the reigns tightly, rubbing the points of her elbows for warmth. She let out a sigh and looked towards the horizon. The ocean on her right and left, a crossing of winds. | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| It was the day of the Tournament. Alacrix hadn't felt this nervous since his first battle. It was his first tournament and of course he would be fighting in front of the Oracle. He could not look like a fool in front of her.
He was in his tent putting on his well familiar armor. He had see many battles while wearing it. He prayed to Obeah that she may grace him with her favor that day. As he made his way into the arena he was overcome by the roar of the crowd. I could get use to this, he thought. He bowed to the Oracle and turned to face his opponent. To his great surprise it was Maura! He was caught a little off guard by her sudden charge but he couldn't help but smile. He remembered their training duel they had a while ago. He remembered her feriousity and decided that he had to go all out. She fought well matching him blow for blow. Alacrix was thrilled by the match, but then he began to see Maura slowing down. Alacrix knew that if he held back Maura would have been furious at him. So he swung high and at the last second turned the blow into a leg sweep and knocked the sword from her grasp. As soon as they declared him the winner he extended his hand to help her up. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| "Alacrix!" - she said a bit too loud as he was helping her up.
"Long time no see. You really did beat me there. I guess you earned yourself a reward - you will be my company at Oracle's party." - she said not minding the fact that he didn't ask, nor had she gave him a chance to refuse. It was exhilarating, fighting after all this time. She couldn't help but smile, looking down at the inconspicuous knight, he was lean and shorter than average, she sure enjoyed surprises. "Don't let me hold you any longer. You've got more opponents to fight." - she said punching his chest armour playfully. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
| Tournament after party Antonia was on the balcony of her apartments, overlooking the square below. Behind her, her people were hurriedly hiding the artwork and the ‘good’ furniture, and locking it in her storeroom. The servants had learnt from previous parties, and weren’t going to make the same mistake twice. She downed the contents of the tankard she was holding and moved inside to wait for the others to arrive | |
| Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix started to stammer something. He was taken to off guard by what Maura had said.
"Y-Yes!" He managed to stammer out before Maura turned to go. "I would love to go to the party with you!" There was a part of Alacrix's mind that knew he sounded like an idiot but he couldn't think of what else to say or do. "Um... I will...Well I guess I should go and get ready for my other matches." With a shaky bow Alacrix ran off to either pass out or throw up from the idiotic blabbing that his mouth enjoyed producing when he was around Maura. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Report from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Tournament Report:
Welcome to the tournament in Rines. 19 nobles from 4 realms paid their 30 gold entrance fee and visit the tournament grounds today to claim the winner's honours and 800 (gold) for swordfighting (400 for second place swordfighting) and 800 (gold) for jousting (400 for second place jousting). This is a tournament of both, jousting and swordfight. Let's begin with the swords: Round 1, 19 participants: Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Maura from Obia'Syela Monkey from Shattered Vales -beats- Calista from Obia'Syela Agamemnon from Obia'Syela -beats- Gigax from Obia'Syela Marcus from Obia'Syela -beats- Boltgan from Obia'Syela Vahanian from Obia'Syela -beats- Antonia from Obia'Syela Mariana from Obia'Syela -beats- Ruairí from Obia'Syela Madeleine from Thalmarkin -beats- Maedhros from Obia'Syela Felmoure from Obia'Syela -beats- Jorvik from Obia'Syela Achelous from Obia'Syela -beats- Rhaelar from Obia'Syela Alyn - wildcard Round 2, 10 participants: Mariana from Obia'Syela -beats- Monkey from Shattered Vales Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Madeleine from Thalmarkin Felmoure from Obia'Syela -beats- Achelous from Obia'Syela Agamemnon from Obia'Syela -beats- Vahanian from Obia'Syela Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Marcus from Obia'Syela Round 3, 5 participants: Mariana from Obia'Syela -beats- Agamemnon from Obia'Syela Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Alyn from Nothoi Felmoure - wildcard Semifinal round: Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Mariana from Obia'Syela Felmoure - wildcard Final Round: Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Felmoure from Obia'Syela Winner: Alacrix
Round 1, 19 participants: Vahanian from Obia'Syela -beats- Boltgan from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Maedhros from Obia'Syela -beats- Antonia from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Calista from Obia'Syela -beats- Mariana from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Marcus from Obia'Syela -beats- Felmoure from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Maura from Obia'Syela -beats- Madeleine from Thalmarkin 3 to 0 Jorvik from Obia'Syela -beats- Achelous from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Rhaelar from Obia'Syela -beats- Agamemnon from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Gigax from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Ruairí from Obia'Syela -beats- Monkey from Shattered Vales 3 to 0 Alacrix - wildcard Round 2, 10 participants: Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Calista from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Rhaelar from Obia'Syela -beats- Ruairí from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Jorvik from Obia'Syela -beats- Maura from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Vahanian from Obia'Syela -beats- Marcus from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Maedhros from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Round 3, 5 participants: Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Rhaelar from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Jorvik from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Vahanian - wildcard Semifinal round: Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Vahanian from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Alacrix - wildcard Final Round: Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Alacrix from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Winner: Alyn That was the tournament in Rines. Congratulations to the winners and to all participants. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
Oracle's Party
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus saw a man in a green suit rush with a servant towards him, it took him a minute but he quickly reconisged the voice of Alacrix Galar.
“Vice Marshal Galar, Welcome.” He held out his hand “It is a pleasure to see you again, I hope you enjoy your evening here in Rines whilst we celebrate the 60th Birthday of our beloved Oracle.” He nodded to a servant to bring over some wine, “How have you been?” | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| It had been a while, but Jheda felt wonderful. After talking to Priestess Eva, he realised he had been wrong, and rejoined the Heralds. He knew the Veiled Goddess never doubted his faith, but now everyone else would see he was a devoted servant of Obeah. The Oracle had granted him back his old estate, things could not look any better.
He walked the streets of Rines feeling drunk, even though he did not touch one drop. That would soon change though. Every citizen of Rines, from the young teens to the grumpy old men, was talking about the event organised by his friend, Steward Marcus, to honour the Oracle. You would have to be living under a rock to be unaware of what was about to happen. Jheda looked forward to meet Marcus again, and tell him about his good news. He knew the Steward could throw a party like no one else. Jheda remembered the last party as if it was yesterday, and this promised to be even better. He would maybe even meet the Oracle herself once more, and surely hoped he could have a few words with her, to tell her about his gratitude. Maybe even steal a dance. As Jheda approached the tournament grounds, he checked if his gift for the Steward was still secure. Once he was confident it was, he ordered a servant to announce his arrival to the already present nobility. | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix took the wine that was offered to him by the server. "Ah Steward Daubeny, I am doing well. And how have you been? I was honored to have received your invitation to celebrate The Oracle's birthday. I must say that it is a lovely party." | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus smiled “I am doing well Vice Marshal, busy with the party and the tournament, but well none the less and thank you I hope this party is the best Rines has ever seen.”
He then took out a letter and handed it to Alacrix. “The Oracle has agreed to see you after the Tournament present this letter to any Paladin in the Basilica and they will let you pass.” He then put out his hand. “I wish we could talk more but I must greet the other guests, I hope to see you later.” He then noticed a name called “Sir Jheda Orobar of Rines.” He looked around and saw his friend walking towards him “Jheda, my friend.” He walked to meet his friend. “Welcome to the Party!” | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| "Marcus! Finally we meet again! You seem to be doing very well," Jheda spoke, while admiring the Steward's outfit. "Damn it, you look so fashionable tonight, I doubt the single Ladies here will look at anyone but you. Give us poor men a chance, will you!"
Jheda looked around at all the activity taking place at the festivities. There was music, dancers, all kinds of artists to suit everyone's taste, and the night was still young. One could only imagine what would come next. "You've outdone yourself again, I see. It's an honour to be here. Please, allow me to give you this small token of my gratitude for being our host tonight. And of course for having my back in the past. I will never forget." Jheda handed over a perfectly balance dagger, crafted by a master smith. The hilt was engraved with the crest of House Daubeny. "Now, tell me, and idea who will attend the party tonight? And when do you think the Oracle will arrive?" | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| It had been an age since I had last been to a feast, The young knight Ruairí thought to himself as he made his way to the big celebration for the Oracle's birthday. The last time he could recall a feast was the night before he had left for Beluaterra from the East Continent, and that had been a family event. What degree of celebration would come for the very Oracle of Obeah, well that was something he could only imagine. So after spending another morning working on his jousting the dark haired youth washed away the sweat and grime of the day. The unruly curls of his hair marked an aspect of his young charm as they added a degree of definition to the lad's features. For the evening's festivities he donned his best clothing as the occasion certainly called for it and he was not one to put a bad foot forward in making impressions. So with the standard black cloth breeches and fine white shirt to form the base of the outfit; Ruairí would add a waistcoat of azure blue satin embroidered with silver leaves, as well as a midnight blue frock trimmed with silver lace. The final touch added to the waistcoat being a small golden broach of a kestrel in flight, much like what was seen on the heraldic seal of his family.
The last little bit for Ruairí to establish before he left was the collecting of his gifts, one was for the Steward to who the dark haired knight had yet to meet. But for putting on such a festivity a degree of reciprocity was certainly owed as per his own family's traditions. Were he not to reciprocate the generosity afforded him he would lose enech, or face and honor, and for that a Mac Róláin could not abide. So upon hearing of the feast the day prior Ruairí went out to purchase a container inline with black velvet to which he could bring one of the measures of wealth he had brought with him to his new home. The chalice was silver and ornamented with four garnets around the stem; all of which gleamed brilliantly after Ruairí gave it a good polishing. For the oracle the matter of a gift was trickier as what does one get the Oracle of your deity? Unknowing, and unaware of any potential proclivities the Oracle might have had Ruairí opted for a necklace of rose gold with a singular oval cut sapphire set in a rose gold floral halo design. The gift itself set him back a good deal of gold himself, but once again his honor, his enech was on the line beyond the diplomatic potential as well. So paying a hefty sum was the least the knight could do for the one this party was all about. So at last, with attire set and gifts in hand the young knight left his pavilion and made his way to the party. Allowing himself to be announced as it seemed was the fashion before going to meet the host. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix was stunned that the Oracle had granted his request to see her. He gingerly took the letter from Marcus and stared at it. He remembered Marcus sticking out his hand and Alacrix shook it. Still mystified at the letter he tucked it into his coat. Unsure now that he had his answer from her, he wondered over to the buffet to grab something to eat and drink. He needed to think... or eat. He was still dazed and either would be good. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus chuckled at Jheada comment “Don’t sell yourself short my sirens if I remember from my last party you almost got a “private audience” with that young noble girl.”
He then looked around at the party as more nobles were arriving it began to slowly heat up soon it would be in full swing he turned back to Jheda “Thank you, it’s a honour to host you again, I hope you enjoy tonight’s festivities” He then looked curiously as Jheda reached behind him and pulled a dagger he presented it to Marcus, It was beautiful dagger more like a piece of then a weapon, it gleamed I the light of the setting sun. “It is beautiful” he took it from Jheda’s hands and took out his old dagger he handed it to Jheda, “It might not be as pretty as your present but it has served me well.” He then sheathed his new dagger and responded to Jheda’s question “No idea who is coming but I hope almost everyone shows up after all it is the Oracles party as for her arrival well, it’s hard to say, she will likely show up soon.” “Sir Ruairí Mac Róláin” He heard the announcer call. “Forgive me Jheda but I must see to the other guests I will talk to you later.” With that he hurried to greet the new arrival. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Upon his arrival Ruairí had really set his attention to the party itself, observing the people, the mood, and to a lesser degree the food as training had left him a little hungry to be sure. But all that could wait until introductions were made and the gift he had was given. As a matter of course he was introduced, and seeing as he wasn't too far from the Steward and the other knight it wasn't hard for him to hear Marcus' parting comment to their fellow countryman. The young knight's hazel hued eyes quickly flicked over to the hurried approach of the man he assumed was the Steward from the overheard quip, and applying his charming little grin Ruairí stepped forward and dipped into a bow. "Lord Stewart, it is an honor and a pleasure to finally meet you in person." The dark haired youth offered warmly in greeting, "Already the festivities are proving delightful, and the night is still so very young." Ruairí continued, and as he spoke he withdrew the wooden container with the polished silver chalice of his own collection to offer to Marcus. "A gift, to show my gratitude for the invitation to this most splendid event. I hope it is to your liking M'Lord." Ruairí offered with all sincerity and charm. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus smiles at the new noble,
“I am glad to meet you as well Sir Mac Róláin and thank you I hope you will enjoy tonight’s festivities.” As the Sir presented the chalice, Marcus looked shocked just as he did when Jheda presented his dagger to him “Thank you Sir Mac Róláin you honour me with such a gift, please come in and enjoy the feast.” He offered his hand to the Young Nobleman. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Ruairí couldn't help but feel the smile curl a little wider along the edges as the gift was accepted so graciously by the Lord Steward. Those hazel eyes of the young knight continued to glint in their good humor as he bowed his head in hearing the reply. "Please Lord Steward, the honor is mine for being able to meet you finally." As he spoke Ruairí's head would rise to meet the other man's eyes once more. "I am sure that I, much like the other nobles present shall enjoy all the festivities that you have assembled." He added happily as he took the offered hand to shake. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus's Storm Grey eyes looked into the Hazel eyes of Sir Mac Rolain and he smiled "Then don't let me keep you any longer."
he step aside and motioned to the party. "Enjoy yourself Sir Mac Rolain, I will see you later" with that he left to do laps around the feast and tend to the needs of any Guests. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| Jheda watched his friend move to the newly arrived Noble, a young, elegant looking man he had not seen before. There would surely be time to be introduced later this evening, perhaps during dinner, but for now he let the two men some room.
He shifted his attention to the dagger still in his hands. He was surprised Marcus had given him his own dagger, but after testing the weight on his hand, and swirling it around his fingers, he decided it would make a fine addition to his collection. The only problem would be to find a spot under his clothes, as Jheda already carried several daggers and throwing knives carefully hidden. A habit he picked up during his time with the Farseers, and one that stuck. Activity around the tournament grounds grew, as did the noises, indicating the swordfighting and jousting events would soon begin. Jheda made his way to the box of seats reserved for High Nobility. He was looking forward to learn about the different fighting techniques used by the several nobles participating. He also kept an eye open for attractive women, and hoped they wouldn't be as veiled as their Goddess tonight. After all, he kept one very special dagger hidden under his pants just for them. | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Tournament feast was at hand. The Duke of Amen Tellum had bathed in a private bathhouse, washed and styled his silvery-grey hair in its traditional half-up, half-down style, and trimmed his beard. Vahanian had chosen the handwoven, beautifully crafted robes of obsidian black, trimmed with Obian Blue, and Templar Red and Gold that the Oracle had sent him as a gift. He also strapped on his sword and secured two daggers to his forearms. He was one of the few who was allowed to be armed while in the presence of the Oracle and it was a status he took every opportunity he could to remind everyone of that fact.
Thankfully, Vahanian did ont have to take the Pilgrim’s Path to reach the Basillica’s upper levels, and so he arrived at the Royal apartments beneath the Solarium where the Oracle lived and worked with time to spare. Even while carrying a wrapped parcel and passing through several checkpoints of Paladins - the blue armored sentinels he had hand chosen for her personal security. He greeted a few by name, and politely obliged their requests/challenges to his business. He reached the final checkpoint and was stopped by two more Paladins, one he knew and recognized and the other he didn't. The young one stepped forward and in a voice that was clearly nervous. Asked Vahanian to remove his weapons, Vahanian nearly leveled the boy with a glare before the elder, wiser Paladin coughed and bade the Duke pass unhindered. He waited now in the Royal Apartment’s foyer, looking out the window over the expanse of the city below arms folded behind his back. Though he was dressed in robes, his stance and demeanor screamed military. He turned towards the sound of swishing fabric on stone. "I do hope you're ready for -" He began, but stopped shor, his words momentarily interrupted on their urgent journey from brain to mouth when he saw her. Rania stood only a few feet away, her smile warm in greeting and her hands folded demurely before her. At 60, she was till a handsome woman. Slender, yes, though anything BUT frail. This was usually well hidden beneath the Heraldic veil and holy vestments of office that she favored for the rare occasions when circumstance forced her to emerge or entertain. Today, however, she had selected a fetching white gown with an intricately laced obian-blue shawl about her shoulders. The dress was simple of cut but finely tailored and draped from her waist, shoulders, and arms, flowing about and behind her like clouds of mist as she moved. The sleeveless, strapless ensemble’s collar was cut in a modest V, revealing only the skin of her arms and face not covered by the shawl, but the gossamer material of the pearlescent garment beneath clung to her form wherever they could. At the center of her neck was a new brooch that held a violet gemstone at its core in fine cage of gold. The multifaceted gemstone sparkled as sunlight skipped along the angles of its depths. On her brow rested her sapphire studded-ducal circlet, the same one that she had crowned herself with when Amen Keffa was first brought into being all those years ago, that held in check the silver-streaked chocolate hair that was bound, wound, and coiled over her right shoulder to dangle above her folded hands like a sleeping serpant. His friend had aged like the fine Ravelian wine she favored. There were wrinkles, aye, but muscle yet, and Vahanian had to stifle the familiar jealousy that Rania had been born blessed with the speedy metabolism that kept her slim while other mere mortals, like a certain unnamed, over-protective duke whom he was sure he’d never met, had to actually work at it. To Vahanian, she radiated her tastefulness and class while fully embracing her femininity without falling into the garish displace that so often entangled younger women. Indeed, looking at her now, Vahanian knew who he’d bet on in a catfight and he had to bite down on the chuckle THAT thought inspired. But it was true. That moment of appraisal lasted only the barest moment, then she was crossing the space between them and extending her hand to him. Vahanian took it, and swept into a perfect court bow. Kissing the ring on her finger and said "Holy One, you honor me beyond words." He straightened and the two shared a look and a moment. “Oh, I’m sure you say that to all the Oracles,” she rejoined slyly, and his smile widened. It had taken nearly a decade before she’d revealed her humor. There was a palpable connection between the two, one that extended beyond friendship. And to think it had only cost him his life, his soul, and a growing collection of chess pieces… | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| He gestured to his robes and said "These are perfect, and I wish to return the favor." He picked up the wrapped parcel he'd carried with him and pulled back the silk cover in one motion to reveal a masterwork stave, crafted from the white-oak native to the Athol Peninsula and etched with latticework of heraldic runes inlaid with purest silver that swirled along its entire length. At the peak of the staff was a roughhewn sapphire sizeable enough to fill the palm of a large man’s hand. At its base was a polished, burnished, brass cap that rang like a bell with each step. Vahanian saw Rania's eyes light up and he knew he had chosen correctly. He caught her hand flicker with motion as if she was about to reach out for gift, but he pulled it back ever so slightly and dared to cluck his tongue at her eagerness. He paused a moment, eyes, darting up, but when lightning failed to smite him for his impudence, he grinned and spoke again. "I'm no master carpenter or rune maker, but I am an able hand with steel and blades." He grinned was wolfish now and flicked his wrist, a small click sounded and he turned the staff towards Rania brasscap first, resting the raw sapphire against his chest. He nodded for Rania to grip the stave at its lower end, then slowly stepped back as she did, and the Oracle’s eyes widened as discovered that she was gripping a hilt. A rapier-length of double-edged obian steel, the same metal from which the Farseers and Paladins of Obeah forged their weapons, revealed itself. All three and a half feet of the blade itself were etching and engraved of heraldic runes, cut just deep enough that blood would collect and pool in them, spelling the doom of what or whomsoever was unfortunate enough to have been caught on the business end. "Made from Obian steel, mined from the depths of Grehk's countryside. I worked firsthand with the finest bladesmith in the Sacred Realm had this custom made." The hilt of the blade bore a yellow sapphire that itself had been emblazoned with the JeVondair house sigil of a rampant lion. The wrapping was a combination of silk and Leather - light enough to maintain the balance of the weapon, and sturdy enough to prevent the blade from slipping out of the wielders hand. With the reverence due such a mastercraft, he gently placed it in the Oracle’s waiting hand. Vahanian showed Rania how to return the blade to the stave and also presented her with an ornate belt and sheath that matched the rapier. “Shall We?” Vahanian said as he extended his arm and Rania took it. The entire time she hadn’t said a word, and she hadn’t needed to. They smiled at one another and departed for the gathering, the bell-like tone of the staff striking stone ringing as they went | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Ruairí smiled as he heard the words and gave a brief nod of his head in acknowledgement, "Of course M'Lord." He added as he bowed his head to the older man, and with that leave being granted Ruairí would turn to the party at large and make his way further in. The music was lively as one would expect with the playful notes dancing on the evening air, and for his part the young knight was half tempted to find a dance partner. But the slight grumble in his stomach diverted that course of thought and turned it instead towards the heady scent of some of the snacking foods. There he would settle to sample some of these delights and at least appease the hunger that had built up in the day's training before the festivities. Although he certainly by no means ate to any degree of excess as the main feast was to come, but by tiding himself over he might save himself from a more embarrassing situation should a more audible rumble of hunger have been heard. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Eva Foote | |
| It was something...something I will never forget. Still the event lingers in my thoughts even as the discomfort from the journey up and down the basilica fades. Never would I have thought that such a building would exist. So many stairs, so many guards. I know you haven't a care in the world about these nameless faces. Nor do you care about the stairs. I only mention them for they were many. Like stars hiding behind the cloudy night sky, unseen but never-ending and always present. Exaggeration I know but you should have seen it. A sight to behold it was. But as you know, I didn't go to the basilica to climb stairs and stare at Templars. Eventually I made it to the Solarium. Maybe it was the stairs, maybe my nerves, regardless my heart raced and with each thump another bead of sweat seemed to form. If only I wore a thinner robe I thought. Too late now, for I finally stood in front of Her.
You remember the tales of Her beauty no? Well, she may have aged and the veil she wore may have been a keenly worn mask but I knew what lay beneath. No, it was not my imagination. Many would simply see what they wanted but not me. I saw Her, as she was and not as I wanted Her to be. The signs of aging were there, gentle beginnings of wrinkles and the glimmers of grey in her hair. Despite all of this, the veil of time and cloth, she still retained her beauty. Looks are not all that tend to fade, for many grow weaker in their age. It is hard to say if her strength has diminished. She wasn't exactly out fighting in the tournament that energized the city around us. I like to think she would have been capable of holding her own out there. Alas, strength was not needed for our encounter. This was to be a display of wisdom. When I first saw Her, she was seated on the opposite end of the room on a cushion. In her hand was a tome and on her face a smile. With a gesture she offered me a seat and welcomed me. Her voice was smooth as silk as she said, "Welcome, Little Sister. I have something to show you." I will admit, her voice caught me off guard. For some reason I exposed it to be a bit more raspy. And Little Sister? What did that mean? I expected a formal greeting but this, this wasn't exactly motherly but one that gave an appearance of equality while still expressing a distance. It is possible that this was just a common phrase but I have never heard it before. I would be ready to believe it was just a saying with little meaning but it would require her to be a bit careless instead of deliberate. That can't be the case. She knew what she was doing. From the place of the meeting, atop the basilica, to the arrangement of the room and her place in it. Every detail was planned, I'm sure of it. | |
| Eva Foote | |
| Roleplay from Eva Foote | |
| Ohhh, how could I have been so foolish? I didn't even notice until now...I didn't even exchange a proper greeting...no eminence, no bow, nothing. Did I at least give a slight nod? Oh, how I hope so. If not...even if I did, maybe she took it as an insult. How could I make such a simple mistake. At least I can say this, I didn't hit the table on my way. The worry was there, I could even see it in my mind. Can you imagine the scene? A Lord Herald meeting with the Oracle and at the very beginning the Lord Herald face-plants after tripping over the leg of a table? Go ahead and laugh, it isn't like you would have been the fool that landed on your face. Thank Obeah that didn't happen. I managed to keep an eye on where I walked. With each step towards the vacant cushion that table was in the corner of my eye. That and the floor itself. On each tile seemed to be a different symbol. They were unfamiliar but one was rather intriguing. The shape was similar to a "J" but attached to a "G" and surrounded by a box with a lines running up and down. Almost like it was a rune of protection, a symbol that was trapped behind iron bars. A sketch will have to be made and the tomes scoured. After making my way past the table and reaching the cushion, I sat down as gently as I could. "You wanted to see me?" I asked getting almost straight to the point of the meeting. Looking back on it now, I shouldn't have been so forward. Truthfully speaking I was definitely a bit nervous. Who would be? And my legs...don't even get me started on those stairs again. At the very least I can say that I was able to keep my focus on Her...well, mostly. In the air hung the scent of vegetation and there were plants in the room. I wish I could say more about these plants but they were unknown to me. With all my time in Rines, in the garden of the Foote Manor, I do not recall ever seeing these types before. Where exactly did they come from? Why were they here? Was this another deliberate move? Does she know how I used to spend hours tending that garden? If she does...if this is a deliberate move, then that means the inquisition was watching. And if they were, no, are watching me then are they watching you? | |
| Eva Foote | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| As time went by, the battles taking place before him on the tournament grounds were getting more fierce. The remaining Nobles, having survived several rounds, could smell the final, and the honour and prestige a victory would bring. It was as if they all decided they would not go down easy. Jheda did not expect any less from his countrymen.
The final itself was one of the greatest displays of swordsmanship he ever witnessed. Jheda sat on the edge of his seat, concentrated, not wanting to miss a single blow. He started to sweat as the tension rose to a climax. Eventually, after several superb feint manoeuvers, it was Sir Alacrix who was victorious. Jheda made a mental note to congratulate the man if he would meet him tonight. He also learned that watching an intense fight was good for your appetite, almost as if you had been in battle yourself, so he made his way to the oversized tent where the Nobility would have dinner. As he entered, he noticed many Nobles had already gathered here. Steward Marcus was moving from here to there, having a few words with everyone, making sure they all were comfortable and had everything they needed. Jheda knew eventually his friend would find some time for him as well, and he did not want to bother him until he did, so he made his way to the large table placed at the centre of the tent. He assumed this was where the Highborn would sit down and eat, once the Oracle arrived, so he started looking if a seat was reserved for him. While he did, he signaled a servant to bring him a drink. | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus had finished his first lap of the feast after chatting with nobles and seeing to their needs, he was suprised the Oracle hadn’t shown up yet but he hoped she would soon, he saw Jheda by the High Tbale reserved for Major nobles of the Realm so that they would be unbothered but the merchants and lower nobles.
He walked over and motioned for a servant and whispered to him “In the storage tent there should be a bottle with s sun on it I want you to bring it to me.” The Servant nodded and scurried off he walked over and stood next to Jheda “Are you participating in the Tournament Jheda?” He smiled at his friend. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| Jheda answered the smile. He did feel sorry for his friend though. Organising this event, and making sure everything went smoothly, took all of his time and effort. The young Steward must have lost track of time, the sun was setting and the swordfighting tournament was over.
"No, my friend, the tournament is over. Haven't you heard, Sir Alacrix took the Title? I myself arrived too late here in Rines to enter my name. And even if I did get here in time, I had other business to take care of." Jheda's smile got even bigger, he was filled with pride and joy as he was about to tell Marcus his good news. "About that business, I wanted to tell you, I have been granted back my estate in Rines, and my position among the Farseers! We'll be fighting side by side again, brother. I just need my Insignia back, but I guess the Oracle or Marshal Antonia has it. I'll ask them for it later tonight." Jheda looked at the table before them with great expectation. It was dressed with high quality, silver cutlery, crystal glasses and artistic decorations. " I can't help but look forward to what you have planned for dinner. I'm sure you'll surprise us with all kinds of delicacies. Do tell me, when the Oracle arrives later this evening, do you have a speech prepared in honour of her birthday?" | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus was overjoyed when he heard the good news he laughed and gave Jheda a quick hug before releasing not wanting to cause a scene, he put his hand on Jheda's should and smiled the joy clear on his face.
"This is truly the best news I have heard all month, I ma glad to have you back brother, i hope Antonia has it on her, maybe we can go to her apartments later and see." "Whilst I can't spoil the surprise let me just tell you it is the finest cuisine from all across Beluaterra and beyond" He smiled knowing that the nobles would enjoy his selection. His smile than faltered and he bang rubbing his beardless chin in though, he bag to ponder aloud. "But as for a speech for the Oracle's birthday? I haven't thought of one, would it even be appropriate, I mean I am just her Steward and I don't know her all that well personally, what do you think Jheda?" He looked to his friend for any guidance or wisdom he had to offer. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| Jheda answered the hug, glad to see his friend was overjoyed with the news. His brothers had not forgotten him yet, which felt really good.
He looked forward to take Marcus to Marshal Antonia's apartments, an infamous place known for it's legendary parties. It was an excellent proposal, one he would gladly accept. First things first though, the Oracle was about to arrive and it looked like Marcus could use some help. "I believe the Oracle would appreciate it if you spoke a few words in her honour. She did choose you to be her Steward, not anyone else. She entrusted you with the responsability to organise her birthday party. It seems to me you are a bit more important to her than you think." Jheda paused for a minute, thinking about what should and should not be said, then continued. "I must admit, I do not know the Oracle very well either. Quite the mystery she is, right? But we can assume she will not like simple flattery, she isn't some young naive girl. She has seen and done things we can only imagine. Therefore, I would suggest to keep it short, clean and simple. Start with the usual, good health and many more years, something like that. Summarise her past, tell her about how we look forward to a future under her guidance. Maybe finish with a subtly hidden compliment. Think you can work with that? | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus smiled at his friend and now reunited brother-in-arms
"Yes, I think I can work with that." After he said that a servant approached and handed him the requested bottle, he quickly left the Steward and Knight "Come Jheda." He poured two glasses of the light blue liquid the same from his party all those moons ago "Let us drink, to the Oracle and the good times ahead." He raised his glass as he spoke. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| When the Oracle moved, it was never s small affair. Horses, carriages, protection details, routes, counter routes, fallback planning, ceremony, decorum, tradition, and general disruption of the normal goings-on of the city became the rule of the day. There was no shortage of beings, human and otherwise, that would have delighted at the Oracle’s death, and so the former Grand Templar, and indeed all Heraldrim, took every conceivable precaution to protect and preserve her wellbeing.
It came as no surprise to her Paladins and the others that made her safety their personally business that there would be no keeping her movements under wraps. Word would get out, it always did, and the throngs would come. In the capital, these people didn’t just owe her their faith as their spiritual leader or their fealty as their liege lady. No, the people of Rines owed her their lives. To them, she wasn’t just the sum of her titles, she was the legendary hero that arrived on a lightning bolt when the dead outnumbered the living in Rines, and she’d armed them and taught them to fight back the dark, organized food to feed the hungry, invested gold to build them up. And, just as important, her lordship had kept them joyously happy and firmly in order for years, a safety for which they were firmly grateful. They had followed her from across the Sea of Four Cities or flocked to her from the hills and hinterlands, and would follow her to whatever she led. She’d made them the envy of the world, and the she’d fought and tamed Netherworld Daimons to do it. Rania Eastersand JeVondair was the Heroine of Rines, very much was the beating heart of the Moonlight City. Thus, when she moved, it seemed as if the whole city moved with her. So rarely did she appear, in fact, that it had become considered good luck to even glimpse the Oracle of Obeah. The people turned out in throngs to wave and pray and shout their adulation. Even for a ‘short’, simple journey to the party Sir Marcus had arranged was slowed to a parade-speed as the Oracle’s carriage and escort made its way. It was one of the many reasons the Oracle often chose to remain in the Basilica, rather than disrupt the normal activities and productivities of her fief. Which of course only had the effect of making her rarer trips that much more of an affair when she did. Within the Oracle’s carriage, Rania and Vahanian watched the crowds and building facades roll slowly by. Waving at the joyous crowds every now and again as they spoke between themselves. All the while, she gripped the stave he had given her. It really was marvelous, and she’d been trying out names for most of the short trip. At the moment, she’d settled to calling it her Edict. When asked why, she insisted that items of gravity deserve names that match. Privately, Vahanian more than suspected it was because she thought the name sounded cool…a youthful whim that clashed amusingly with the wizened persona she liked to suggest. Ever observant, Rania must have caught on to his thought process because when he looked at her again, merriment in his eyes, she simply turned her nose to the air and huffed haughtily. As they grew nearer to the chosen location Rania could sense Vahanian’ s dread growing. She knew he hated these social functions, he would very nearly be as much of a recluse as she, save for the little fact that he could not send orders from his ivory tower, and it tickled her to see him squirm and she told him so. He fired back by sticking his tongue out at her and she yielded with a laugh. When they finally did arrive at the party Sir Marcus had organized in her honor, it was to great fanfare. A few moments later they escorted to the large pavilion that had been setup on near the tournament grounds. A guard pulled back the flap and two Templar and Two Paladins proceeded Vahanian and Rania into the pavilion. Vahanian saw Marcus, alerted to their presence by the commotion, materialize from the crowd of people that had assemble and make his way to them to pay his respects and greet the Oracle. Vahanian smiled at the young steward and inclined his head in approval and appreciation of the feast he'd put on before raising his voice to the crowd. “Your attention please!” He called in a resonant basso, resplendent in his fine robes, is presence soaking up the attention of the room as he announced “HER HOLINESS!” And then the Oracle of Obeah entered. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Vahanian let himself revel in the peace of the moment. He was walking arm in arm with his oldest friend to a party in her honor. He escorted Rania through the growing throng of people, both giving polite nods and warm smiles to the gathered nobility, but neither he nor Rania stopped as they ventured towards her seat of honor at the high table. A servant stepped forward and then immediately back as Vahanian shot a glance at him. This honor was his, and he intended to milk this for all it was worth. He guided Rania to her chair and then pulled her chair out for her, bowing low, in once more a perfect court bow as she took her seat. He then slid into the seat directly to her right. A servant arrived and poured wine for the Oracle, that fancy Ravalian stuff she favored, and then turned to Vahanian. He merely placed his hand over the top of his goblet and shook his head politely. From within the folds of his robes, he pulled his beloved pipe and tobacco pouch. Shoving some leaf into the end of his pipe he struck a match against the arm of his chair and lit his pipe, the smoke swirled around him like a cloud of mystery as his keen hazel eyes scanned the assembled crowd.
Now seated, Rania raised her hand in benediction and the gathered nobles fell silent. “For nearly 20 years, We have struggled” she began, her voice a rich alto as it spread to fill the silence. ”For nearly 20 we bled and suffered alone in this desolate, forsaken promised land. Undead rose nightly from the vast catacombs beneath Our feet and monsters of every sort tried Our walls to steal Our people off to their lairs at night. Aye, We were alone, and Aye, we struggled, but We were never lost. We worked and fought and built, we channeled the light of our faith into the brilliant beacon it now is. And now you all must know by now that here, now, when we say We,” she emphasized the capital, “We refer to all of Us, We spilled blood, We fought and died and struggled, but We did it together. One strong, growing family of faith. Unified in a way that the other faiths, nay, the other realms could hardly hope to match.” She paused then, looking through the eyes of the gathered nobles; into the souls she had sworn her won to guide and protect, then rose solemnly and all those gathered rose with their spiritual leader, gathering their goblets in toast as she fell into the old words: “Obeah guide us. Obeah teach us. Obeah protect us. Obeah deliver us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.” As the final words were uttered by ever throat, the Oracle smiled, tapping the tip of her Edict to produce the bronze ring, almost like a temple chime. “With that said,” she continued, “This is a party, is it not? May the celebrations commence!” | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus was dumbfounded when Duke Vahanian and the Oracle entered the party, he barely had time to kneel and spew out the words of his greeting “Welcome Oracle I am greatly you could make it to this party I hope you enjoy tonight!”
By the time he had finished the Oracle had already moved past him. He felt like a fool, Once she was seated and had spoke her most holy words, he went from feeling the fool to feeling like pride, he was her Steward, her most holiness trusted him to run this smoothly and by Obeah he would. “You heard the Oracle, drink, be merry, to do otherwise is to disobey her direct orders.” And with that he signaled the band to begin playing, which in turn was the cue for the servants to bring out the meals on Silver trays they quickly placed a bit of everything on the plates of everyone present except the Duke and Oracle. Marcus walked up to the High Table and bowed to his Liege, He then sat next to the Oracle on her left he then sat back and nodded to a servant, who signaled another which in turn tapped a Waiter returning to the Kitchen and whispered “Oracle.” The waiter nodded and signaled a few more waiter who were dressed in the finer clothes they rushed into the Pavilion bearing Gold trays and set them on the the table, lifted the lids and revealed many dishes from a what appeared to be a basic steak to a rainbow scaled fish, they then brought forward 10 Chalices each filled with a different drink, one of the most striking one was the Chalice with a light blue liquid that almost seemed to glow, they set the chalices before the Oracle and another set in front of the Duke though for Marcus they only brought one with the light blue liquid. “Don’t worry my good Duke I have personally sampled each meal and drink, not from the same cup as the Oracle or you of course but I can confirm that all of this.” He pointed at the food and drink “Is not poison.” He hoped this would ease the Oracle and Duke for her most holiness’s safety was his priority. He then stood and tapped his chalice with a spoon, once he caught the attention of everyone he put the spoon back. “Nothing I can say can match what the Oracle already said but as it is expected that I speak I will do my best, The Oracle, a name we have all come to belove, She has lead us for 20 years through light and dark, war and peace, life and death and I pray that she will lead us for 20 more.” He then looked at the Oracle. “And I know she will.” He raised his glass and looked out to all the assembled nobles. “Let us drink to the Oracle, long may she live.” The toast was echoed “Long may she live.” He sat back down and clapped twice, suddenly a mighty roar wa released as behind the Oracle a scroll had been used that summoned a lion of fire, as the lion was the symbol of the JeVoindar symbol he hoped the compliment was taken that way, The lion flew threw the sky around the entire pavilion harmlessly passing threw the air before let out one more roar and disappearing behind the Oracle. Marcus whispered to the Oracle. “Enjoy tonight for this is all for you.” | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| "That was a lovely toast Marcus, thank you."
Rania leaned toward Marcus' crooking her finger for him to do the same. Her body language looked as though she might whisper some secret or private joke perhaps, but she modulated her voice to carry subtly so that anyone within casual earshot would here. "We were very right to give you the responsibility of managing the affairs of Rines. this-" she gestured with her Edict to encompass not just the Pavilion but the whole of the celebration throughout the city." We do not believe that anyone else in the Sacred Court would have done as well. Thank you." She repeated. "I am very glad that I picked you." She said then, and no one within earshot missed the fact that she'd dropped the royal "We" that was her right. If there had been any doubt in anyone's mind that the Steward of Rines was not among the Oracle's favored, they died quietly in the face of this new confirmation. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Dubeny | |
| Marcus laughed and gave the Oracle a salute before standing p bowing once to the Oracle and once to the Duke that sat beside her as he left he silently whispered to a waiter next to him.
"See that the Oracles requests are filled, this is her party and anything she asks for you go get, understood." The Servant nodded and with that Marcus walked around again and begun to speak to the guests. | |
| Marcus Dubeny | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian, despite himself, was having a pleasant evening at the party. He'd smiled, and chuckled with friends, old and new. Spoke to nobles he hadn't seen in some time, and threw jests back and forth about the approaching tournament.
The music was played beautifully, the food was wonderful, and the drink was ample, though Vahanian avoided the latter. He summoned a servant and whispered something in his ear, before the man disappeared and reappeared next to the musicians. The first note was struck a few moments later and if by divine intervention, the dance floor started to clear. Vahanian stood, tamped out his pipe, and leaned towards Rania, who was just finishing her conversation with her steward, and said "Oracle, I may be slow with words but I am quick on my feet, would you do me the honor?" He extended his hand and couldn't help but smile as she looked up at him and he saw a grin creep onto her face as her eyes flicked between his hand and his eyes. She smiled at him and said "I wouldn't want to get in the way of someone who would be a far better dancing partner. Her eyes flicked behind Vahanian and he followed her gaze. Cutting through the throng of people in an astonishingly beautiful black dress was a woman Vahanian didn't recognize at first. It took him a moment to realize that Stheno was walking towards them,. it was her eyes, always her eyes, that caught him. Tonight, the gold of her irises glow against the black like lanterns in smoke. She'd suffered her entirely life because that marked her as different. looking at her now, though, knowing everything she'd had to overcome despite her high birth, Vahanian's chest swelled with pride, admiration, and love for the girl. It took Vahanian a moment to recover, he was so used to seeing Stheno in riding leathers and training armor, so seeing her in a dress at a court function was odd. She curtsied perfectly before the Oracle. For one who'd always done her level best to get away from ANYTHING resembling formality, she's clearly been practicing, Vahanian observed silently as Rania opened her arms in welcome. Stehno approached, leaning into the Oracle’s embrace before pulling back. "Mother!" Stheno exclaimed, excitement rolling off her in waves as she produced a series of four official-looking documents. “These-“she began with a dramatic air, waving the parchment with emphasis “-are my recommendations! I’m going to be a knight and fight for Obeah just like you and uncle did!” “That’s wonderful news, my darling!” Rania’s smile was just as excited as her daughters. “Mother…” Stheno hesitated. “I…I know you never really approved of my, eh...” “Running away to a different kingdom to live on your own?” Vahanian quipped helpfully. “But what about me hmm? To think, ignored by the mother so often, and now the daughter too? The indignity of it all! Why, I’ve half a mind to-“ Was nascent diatribe was efficiently cut off but the sudden pressure of slender arms wrapping tightly about his chest and robes and squeezed. “We always get to you eventually, Uncle Vahanian, you know that!” Stheno said with a laugh. He returned the gesture with a squeeze and a warm chuckle of his own. “That you do, child, that you do. Now let me see those referrals before your mother attempts to recruit you for Amen…errr…what is Jessica calling it again?” A sidelong glance at the Oracle, but she turned up her nose at him. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| “What do you mean ‘attempt’?” Rania retorted with a mock-haughtiness that all-too-closely resembled the true anger he’d witnessed occasionally over the past 20 years. But Vahanian merely smiled, after that long, he could always tell the difference.”
“Could he be referring to your legendarily single-minded determination, Mother?” “Is that Sthenoan for ‘stubborn and overbearing?” The Oracle asked in response, eyes glinting with mirth. “How did I raise such a vile, disrespectful daughter?” “You had help, damn it” Vahanian inserted, a caricature of his usual gruffness. “Its over, mother,” Stheno said as she through an arm over Vahanian’s shoulder as his grin deepened. “Unc’s always been on my side.” Rania through up her hands in defeat. “Daimons, Kings, and heretics I can handle. But you too? And would it kill you, spawn, to call me “Mom” once and a while?” “Would it kill you to dance once in a while, Your Grace” came the much too sweet reply. “Hmph…fair.” Rania waved her hand in surrender. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Like any father, Vahanan had been noting the way the other nobles watched Stheno. At first it was because he was feeling protective. Stheno is a very attractive young woman, the yes of many a noble knight and lord would be on her anyways..as would the hidden whispers about her scary-looking eyes. Even being embraced by the Oracle was not enough for those who did not know Stheno as he did to be at ease around her. Worse, it bothered her. he could tell, he'd practically raised this child, trained her, instructed her where and when her own mother could not. he could see the drop in the line of her shoulders, the stiffness in her neck and spine that had nothing to do with the expensive black dress she wore now.
It wasn't fear, not like it had been when she was young, but it was anxiety, and it offended Vahanian deeply that anyone could see this girl- woman- he corrected himself mentally, as anything other than a blessing literally from the Oracle herself. He'd taught her how to be strong on the field and on the hunt, but this was a new battlefield altogether and one that he had not prepared her for. What could he do to fix this, he asked himself? His body, however, was ahead of him.Vahanian removed his sword belt from his waist and placed it on his chair looking at Rania as he did so. The Oracle, however, already had her hand out. Sharp as ever, she must have been reading the same signs he had been. He nodded to Rania, perhaps more gravely than he meant to, but she returned the gesture. Volumes passed between the two, then, and he knew she understood. She had, after all, been a mother before she'd become the Oracle. The two friends smiled at one another. A secret passing between them, and a mutual love for the giddy, lively, black-eyed little girl, no, young woman, that was dragging Vahanian to the middle of the dance. Rania rested his sword on her knees and shoo'd him off. He turned back to Stheno, extended his hand and said "Would you grant me the honor?" She giggled at him, her nervousness audible only to him, and took his hand excitedly. Vahanian looked back at Rania and realized that this was a far better gift for her than 'Edict' could ever be. Stheno led them through the throng of people, there were more than a few whispers and murmurs that died in the throats of nobles before they could begin to take form as the gathered assembly saw Vahanian on Stheno's arm. Despite what they might think, there were few who would dare speak out against the child, especially when she was accompanied by Vahanian. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| It was with great anxiety that Ruairí made the ascent to the Basilica following the tournament at Rines. After all the whole point of his joining the tournament was more his intention to break into this world of the upper nobility than to do well as a participant. The knight of Ardmore may have been young but he knew his abilities well enough to know he wasn't going to be anywhere close to those great warriors who did well in the games. The mere fact that he got passed the first round in the joust was surprising, and a testament more to the tenacity of his training than any natural skill. No it was in these moments, the realm of politics, that he shown best and he fully intended to capitalize on it.
So with a final breath to settle the mounting anxiousness he felt within, and with gift in hand, Ruairí would push open the doors to make his entrance. The dark haired knight had certainly dressed for the occasion as he came in black breeches, and a fine white shirt. The shirt was joined by a burgundy colored waistcoat trimmed in a gold knotwork design of his homeland. In addition to go over both the shirt and waistcoat was a black frock to complete the ensemble and paired well with the young Knight's Raven colored hair. A final little piece was the golden Kestrel broach that he wore pinned to his chest, the gold Kestrel in flight being the symbol of the Mac Róláin family. Waiting in the queue was a tedious thing, but expected as the Herald was to announce those who had arrived to celebrate the Oracle's birthday, and when finally it was his turn Ruairí would cast his hazel hues gaze to the party at large while the Herald's voice rang out. "Sir Ruairí Mac Róláin, Knight of Ardmore." A playful half smile took to his lips as his cue was given to proceed inward. It was in that moment that a part of him was glad that he had not been of supreme note in the tournament; lest he had been given the booming introduction that the champion had had. Instead he could bide some time and purse the room before seeking out those to whom he might make his own association. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Stehno all but dragged the aged duke to the area of the pavilion that Sir Marcus had ordered cleared for reveling. If she didn’t know better, she would be curious what an old man in the trappings of a priest could do, former Grand Templar or no. They cut their way to the floor and she whirled on him, left hand up and right hand out, ready for a partner. Vahanian bowed to her, a subtle reminder of the proper forms. She blushed prettily at the silent reminder and curtsied to him, and then the music started and they were Stheno and Vahanian raised their arms, intertwining them just above the elbow, as they moved in a circle with the other noble guests, stepping in time with the music.
The tempo picked up as the overture flowed into the first melodies of the music. Up to that point, Stehno’s touch had been feather-light, and she stumbled more than once. But each time Vahanain caught her smoothly. Indeed, the music awakened a strength in the ancient duke that she never suspected. They stepped back, extending their arms, and pulling away, just as Vahanian caught her wrist, leaned her towards the floor before whipping her around in a swirl of laughter and expensive fabric. She spun into his arm and shoulder, before Vahnaian stepped out, and spun her the opposite way. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of the Champion Alacrix Galar as he and a companion behind him were announced before the dance drew her back into the fray. At some point, someone had started clapping in time with the music, and before long the entire pavilion was swept up in the song, stomping feet and clanking tankards. Stheno’s smile was infectious as she danced. If she were being honest with herself, she’d never really seen herself like this: Happy. When she was a girl, she’d always been kept hidden for fear of assassins or even daimons with a grudge against her mother. Every move was watched, every entrance guarded, she thought she’d be smothered for the rest of her life. It’s why she ran away in the first place...to find her own freedom. She never dreamed that her journey to find it would end practically where it began. And it was true, she WAS happy. She’d visited villages FULL of religious folk who wanted nothing more than to see her burn, just for her appearance. Vahanian, her teacher and the closest thing she had to a father, whose mere presence inspired trust. Now here she was in the dancing to the beating rhythm at the heart of the largest new religion in the world, but she felt safe. Now that she’d grown to womanhood and understood that Rania had just been doing her best to protect her, and would continue protecting her, made her feel foolish for ever having left. Now here she was wearing the most expensive dress she’d ever worn, mingling with the most influential nobility on the continent, and she felt welcome. Her exuberance soared in that moment, and she felt tears threaten her gold-black eyes. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| The music was clearly audible from outside the party grounds, and a hundred smells, many of them pleasant and a few not so much, assaulted Kethan's nose as he slowly approached the source of the noise and cheers. He had been at the verge of not assisting, but he had been invited after all, and manners was one of the few things that he still had left.
It hadn't been easy, but he thought he was ready. A thick layer of makeup covered the least pleasant marks that a life devoted to arcane experimentation had cursed him with, fine dark green robes that he had borrowed from the Vales hid his sicklish and shaking body, an elegant yet robust dark wood cane with silver ornaments supported his weight when his muscles seemed about to fail. The main problem, though, was navigating the area with his extremely limited eyesight, destroyed by decades of reading in dark rooms and the progress of his affliction. He would have his eyes closed, that for sure, they were most certainly not a pleasant sight to behold nowadays, and it's not like they were of much use in their current condition. - "Maulde, I don't know if I can do this. There's so, so many noblemen and servants inside. I'll trip and fall on someone before even making it across the entrance." The butler, properly but discreetely dressed in grey garb, grinned ever so lightly. - "M'lord, as usual, I'll be your eyes. I may not be able to recognize all the faces and heraldry we'll see inside, but you know I will tell you of everything I can describe." The couple entered, the announcement of the herald lost to most attendants to the party due to the recent arrival of Kethan and the music and laughter of the celebrations. They stood close to the door for a few minutes, a mature man and a slightly younger servant, Maulde narrating to his master everything happening around them. At some point, he leaned towards Kethan and whispered. - "M'lord, I think she might have noticed your arrival. Do you wish me to...?" - "It's now or never, Maulde." - Kethan let out a deep sigh. - "Guide me." Somehow making it accross the couples dancing and the noblemen gossiping without drawing much attention, a stern look of the guards warned Kethan and Maulde not to continue approaching the Oracle. - "M'lord, I don't think those guards look pleased of our approach." - "Oh, keep going. I have the feeling they will be told to back down." - said Kethan while standing as straight and proudly as possible, holding his cane tightly while Rania's guards approached him, obviously unfamiliar and cautious with the recent arrival to the realm. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Ruairí had barely a moment's time to walk the floor of the Basilica when the music started up and the dancing first began. The little break in between would see the young knight from Ardmore procuring for himself a glass of wine to enjoy in one hand, as the other kept the wooden case that housed his gift to the Oracle. With the object of his desire so procured Ruairí decided to make his way towards the pavilion that a growing crowd of attendees were gathering around. As he moved towards the crowd his left hand holding the gift would idly adjust the slender box within until one of the smaller bases of the rectangle shaped box rested against his palm. The flat of that container pressed in against his forearm, hiding the parcel completely from certain angles of view. All the while Ruairí would sip from his glass and watch the dance between the Duke of Amen Telum and the mysteriously eyed woman to whom he had yet to meet. To the knight, such a sight as those eyes might have given him cause to pause and yet it seemed despite the occasional whisper the crowd was more in tune with the music and the dance than anything else. So he filed the thought away, after all it was no stranger to him than the dance seeing as Ruairí had come from the East Continent and the traditions were different. Likewise, the dark haired youth would think, they might find the traditions of his own family a little odd in practice. So how was he to really judge such a thing as dancing, or eyes, or any such matter.
"Remember Ruairí, you must integrate fully when you arrive. Hold none of yourself back from your adopted home as I won't be able to protect you there." The words of his older brother filled his mind as his thoughts turned towards the end of his musings. Those hazel hued eyes lost a hint of their sharpness which had up to that point been observing the room more than the dance. Instead there was a softness that filled the gap as he thought of his brother and the oh so distant home of his childhood that he had left behind. "I will..." The young knight breathed out under the roaring mixture of claps and stops that kept time with the playing music. A breath later and the softness was gone, mirth instead filled his eyes and after taking a couple more seconds to catch the beat Ruairí was soon stomping along. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus panicked,
He yanked a servant over and furiously whispered. "WHY HAS THE DANCING BEGUN." The servant in question paled. "Theu Duke, Sir, he went down to the dance floor and everyone else followed." Marcus's angre dissipated, he patted the shoulder of the young servant, Marcus then shivered and felt cold, strange it was quite warm in the pavilion, he shrugged it off "Nevermind just make sure that performers are ready for when the cake is brought out." The Servant nodded and went off to see the Steward's will done, he scanned the crowd hoping to spot a familiar face amongst the crowd, he saw none. Suddenly he noticed the duke dancing with a young woman, He didn't recognise her, but there was clearly some sort of bond between her and Blint. He shrugged and walked back to the high table, he sat back next to the Oracle and once again felt cold, a chilling feeling in his spine and yet he did his best to put it out of his mind, he looked to the Oracle and asked "Oracle, who is the girl that Duke Blint is dancing with, I don't recognise her, is she a new noble?" | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian guided Stheno through the dance, she stumbled a bit, but he was there, as always, to guide her back to center. He felt the change in her emotions, she was happy. Here, now, in the moment. She was happy. That felt like a wave of relief. He let the music guide his movements, he found his place, the deep baritone of the music resonated within Vahanian, similar to his gruff speaking voice. Stheno also seemed to find her place within the music, the fierce, fiery alto notes that so mirrored her personality. They uncoiled their entwined arms, Vahanian spinning Stheno round and round and round, faster and faster, as the music reached a crescendo. She spun into his arm and shoulder, before Vahnaian stepped out, and spun her the opposite way. she let her momentum take her as Vahanian moved towards her, letting go of her arm, she began to dip backwards, Vahanian reached out and grabbed Stheno mid spin, wrapping his leftarm around the small of her back gripping her waist. With a grin at Stheno and a flourish he whipped his left arm from around her waist and let go, she spun nearly horizontal, following the momentum of his powerful arm. She was falling to the floor and laughing, he timed it perfectly. He shot his right arm out and caught her waist behind her back and bent his knee and she was dipped over his planted foot, head as far back as it would go, hands displayed above her head. She was fully supported by Vahanian's right arm and knee, no part of her touched the ground just as the music struck it's final note. The two were breathing heavily from the dance. Vahanian pulled her upright, stepped back and bowed to her once more. The assembled crowd who'd been observant of entire dance erupted in cheers and applause. Vahanian smiled, gestured to Stheno giving her the attention and praise as he also applauded her, but he was looking to Rania, she smiled at him, applauding with more force than one would expect from the Oracle, but still managing to maintain her dainty aura. She turned her head to the side and Vahanian could have sworn he caught glimpse of a tear streaking down her cheek before she quickly brushed it away. He turned his attention back to Stheno who was revealing in the applause and attention. She curtsied to the assembled people before abandoning all courtly manners and launching herself into Vahanian's arms and hugging him with all her might. He too abandoned the frivolities and "proper" decorum and hugged her back. The dance was for the people, this was for the two of them. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| “A new noble?” Rania replied as she clapped, seeming to muse over the question. Her smile widened, eyes flashing as she watched the dance. “Why yes, something like that-”
The dance came to its roaring conclusion. Rania rose smoothly to join those who were already up and applauding. She was aware of those others seeking to speak with her, and those whom she would like to speak with, but she would before the night was through so they both could wait for a moment or too for her to return to her seat. Edict in hand, its huge sapphire gem flashing, she approached the pair. She wore no veil today, and most of the nobles here had never seen her, much less met her. Nevertheless, nobles parting before her like waves before a ship. The Edict, she concluded, was something of a giveaway. Vahanian grinned broadly as drew close and Rania was astonished and how youthful he seemed now, despite being more than twenty years her senior. She buried the sardonic grin that thought deserved. It would do know could to encourage him lest he contrive some way to get her to dance as well. Instead, she looked at Stheno and smiled as she rested her hand on the young woman’s shoulder. Then, in the well-trained orator’s voice that was soft as silk and powerful as a rushing river, she started to speak. “We have some announcements to make…” | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian stood next to his oldest friend and his favorite charge as Rania spoke to the assembled. A servant quietly brought him his sword belt, which he quickly strapped back around his waist. Rania couldn't help but notice and smile at his subtle relaxation as soon as he was armed once more.
Vahanian took stock of the assembled nobles, he saw Sir Kethan, a man whom he'd not seen in many years, making his way towards the Oracle's table. He caught the eye of Kethan's butler and inclined his head ever so slightly, knowing full well of his friend's ailment and reliance on the butler. Rania said "We have some announcements to make.." and Vahanian couldn't help but immediately wish he had 30 more Templar inside this pavilion alongside Antonia and Ferdinand. He ever so subtly used his left hand to slightly withdraw his sword from it's sheath by a single inch. Vahanian was confident that none of these nobles would attack the Oracle, but his unrelenting overbearing protectiveness was part of the reason that she had entrusted her own and Stheno's safety to him more times than he could count. Vahanian had no doubt that Rania could level this room with her magic, but he'd never been one to ignore the mundane in favor of the magical, and he was surely not going to start now.. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus stood up and walked to stand next to the Oracle, he gave a short bow to the young woman that the Oracle had patted shoulder, he then spoke
"Greetings M'lady, I am Marcus Daubeny, Steward to the Oracle" He then turned to the Oracle "My Oracle, Would you like me to have the nobles quiet down and listen so your declaration can clearly be heard by all?" | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Ruairí had watched the dance as many in the crowd had done, with rapt attention held firmly upon the Duke and mysterious woman by the quick tempo of the music. Fabric twirled out in a glorious display as Stheno was spun round and round, the crowd practically gasping in delight. But in the background of the dance other factors were at play, people still moving about as it were, and especially the older noble and the Steward of the realm caught the attention of the knight of Ardmore. For the latter it was an initial look of panic that rested on his face which brought Ruairí's brow to raise in curiosity. But the panic abated it seemed and with it a more searching eye was adopted by Daubney, who seemed to be scanning the gathered crowd. "Curious, I wonder what he is looking for..." Ruairí thought to himself as he regarded the Steward a moment longer. But as Daubney moved towards the tawny skinned woman to whom great deference was being showed Ruairí's hazel hued gaze was inevitably drawn to the aged D'Espana who was also approaching this same woman, with perhaps a little more trouble as it seemed guards were barring his passage.
Having never actually seen the Oracle Ruairí was among the number of nobles who did not know in whose presence he was actually in. But there was a grace to her, a commanding presence that was impossible to deny, and in which the others in the room readily responded to when she moved. Like a parting of the proverbial sea, so would those same nobles so taken by the dance move for the Oracle as she walked through their number. Added with the esteem the Duke then showed, as well as the guard around her from before and it really wasn't hard for Ruairí to put two and two together. The youthful knight's fingertips lightly tightened upon the wooden box that was his gift, knowing now to whom he sought to give it to. Next was just finding a moment's time to manage it as he was but a simple knight in a court of Counts, Countesses, Margraves, Margravines, Dukes and Duchesses. As such he would likely have to wait his turn to gain an audience; after all his showing in the tournament was average at best and his only deed of note so far was the prediction of the formation of the new realm before it was announced. To which he had sent letters only to the Grandmistress and it was unlikely in his mind that his name would have circulated because of that. In time, he hoped it would change, and maybe his future works would do so. But for now he was sure he would have to wait and he accepted that fact the instant he knew just who she was. The Oracle's voice rang out soft enough to quiet the crowd and with the power of personality to command attention. Six simple words and silence took those so assembled to hear what was to come. Ruairí was certainly among that number so silenced, and his attention would have been held completely were it not for the protective Duke at her side. Of all those in the room he was the only one that held a tension in his shoulders, and kept a watchful eye and those assembled. To those who paid attention, it was a break in the illusion, and in spite of himself Ruairí's own hazel hued eyes began to scan the faces within the room. The dark haired knight trying to see what the Duke was looking for, though his own training in spotting such hidden dangers was still very much lacking compared to the Duke's practiced eye. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian scanned the assembled nobles most of whom had quieted down as the Oracle spoke. He assessed potential threats, which targets he would neutralize first and how he would best get the Oracle out of here should he need to. It was a part of his brain he couldn't and wouldn't turn off.
Marcus walked over and introduced himself to Stheno before asking the Oracle a question. Stheno looped her arm through Vahanaian's and looked at Vahanian and he simply shook his head. She released the grip she had on the knife strapped to his forearm and he suppressed a smile. The Oracle glanced over at Vahanian and he nodded, a wordless conversation passing among the three friends. Vahanian stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Lord Steward Marcus, a splendid party you've put together. Would you do an old man the courtesy of helping my dear friend into a seat near mine own?" Vahanian gestured towards Kethan with one hand, and with the other guiding Marcus away from the Oracle.
| |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus smiled at the Duke,
"Thank you Duke Blint, I am honoured to here that coming from you, I just hope the party continues to go smoothly. As Marcus finished he noticed for a mere second a flash of light coming from where the Girl whose name he didn't know intertwine her arm with the Duke's, he felt a bit on edge from the nod and smiled of the Duke, but he trusted Blint with a small bow he walked back over to the the High Table and called for another chair, he sat in his seat and looked at Vahanian. "Who is she, the girl you were dancing with?" Marcus then quickly added "She is clearly of some import to the Oracle and You and I truly do hate not being in the loop with these sorts of things, it makes my job as Steward much harder." He then sipped from his light blue drink. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| It didn't take being able to see to know that emotions were high. Before being able to get past the Oracle's guards, whispers and gasps all around gave Kethan more than enough information about Vahanian and Stheno's dance. Many were wondering about the young woman's identity, but the nagging suspicion was quickly confirmed when Maulde leaned closer to him and relayed what he was seeing.
- "M'lord, Lord Blint and a young woman that matches your description of your former ward are the cause of this agitation. They are dancing under the keen eye of Lady Rania herself, and not a soul here seems unimpressed." Old feelings that used to lay dormant awakened. Kethan tried to keep his composure as the dance ended, and Maulde promptly informed him that Vahanian had surely seen them, as well as about the curious wordless exchange between Vahanian, Stheno and Rania. He was still pondering about it all when, all of a sudden... - "We have some announcements to make...". Rania did sound different, that for sure. More mature, of course, but there was also something else. Authority, perhaps, but could it also be...? Vahanian interrupted that particular train of thought when he requested Marcus to escort him to the table. Facing the young nobleman the best he could out of hearing alone, he gave a small nod before making it as easy as possible on the steward. No need to steal anyone's spotlight, and much less Rania's after such a powerful beginning. Taking a seat with Marcus' assistance, he let out a heavy sigh and listened closely for the Oracle's continuation. Maulde, knowing fully well that his master could very well need of his services sooner or later, simply stood behind Kethan with a surprisingly interested look on his usually serious face. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian smiled at the young steward as the man voiced a frustration that Vahanian echoed. Not knowing could be so tedious, and surprises dropped in your lap are rarely pleasant. Vahanaian sat down next to Marcus, pulled out his pipe and struck a match against the arm of the chair. Vahanian puffed on his pipe before saying "Her name is Stheno, she is someone the Oracle and I care about very much.... She is the Oracle's daughter." Vahanian chuckled at the look on Marcus's face, it was the usual reaction of surprise when one heard the Oracle had a daughter for the first time. "I have cared for her since she was very young. Guided her, trained her, protected her, in a way, I've raised her." Vahanian wasn't sure if the question was forming in Marcus's mind, but he decided to head it off anyway. "She is not my daughter, at least not by blood..." Vahanian smiled and leaned in to whisper to Marcus and said "..But when has family ever been limited by blood." There was a mysterious twinkle in Vahanian's eye as he sat back and puffed on his pipe. His attention focused on the Oracle and the announcement she was about to make. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| The Oracle’s words draped over them like a shawl as she addressed the gathered greats of the Scared Realm, and though Stheno was aware enough to note how quickly and subtly Duke Vahanian had rerouted Marcus’s inquiry, it was secondary as her entire world had narrowed down to that gentle, strong hand upon her shoulder.
“First,” the Oracle continued, “We are grateful to you all for coming and participating in the festivities, and it would be in very poor taste if We did not also acknowledge and celebrate Our Steward, Farseer Marcus, for the role he played in arranging and hosting this entire affair.” “Second” The Oracle went on, “We would like to welcome, and thank, the men and women who have heeded the call to Jidington and the project to bring the Sacred Realm closer to Our Shattered cousins. If this day is to be a celebration of Our life and accomplishments thus far, then We think it only fitting to place a gaze upon the future and hunger for the deeds yet to be done. You are all essential to realizing a peaceful southern union ‘neath Obeah’s sheltering eye for the good of all Heraldrim. “Third,” The Oracle continued, “We wish to officially acknowledge Alacrix Galar, formerly of Our own Farseers and fiefdom. Alacrix astounded all by winning the tournament,” The Oracle turned her head to pick out the man in question, and Stheno’s amber-obsidian gaze followed suit. Despite her state, she was interested in what the winner of a knightly contest of arms might look like. “We are grateful that he dedicated his victory to Obeah’s guidance, as is proper. We name him a Champion of Obeah and we hope that he will be able to defend his title when We turn 61…” There were some chuckles at this, and Stheno had no doubt that Rania was intentionally painted something of a target on Alacrix’s back. It was her style: Those who couldn’t rise up to a challenge she placed before them would make way for someone who could WHILE bettering themselves in the process. She called it “coaching.” And Stheno couldn’t help but remember what happened to some of those that had failed to rise to the Oracle’s expectations, it was a favorite carping point that Uncl…Duke Vahanian loved to go over and over….and over. She hoped the strong-looking Farseer would preserver avoid that fate. “Fourth, We wish to acknowledge the return of Our dear friend, Kethan D’Espana. Just as his father aided my family and eye in the past, so to as the son don in the present. He is frail now, yes, and close to the Veil, but know that his golden heart is that of a dragon. We tell you now that without this man. We would not be here, none of you would be here. He has come to Us for healing, and he shall have it by all the magic the veiled Goddess has placed at Our disposal. We can count on one hand those who have, knowingly or unknowingly, held the very fate and souls of nations in their hands. For this, we publicly revere him.” Stheno was surprised and delighted when the Oracle pointed Kethan out. It had been he, she knew, that had rescued Rania from having to give birth on the streets of Fheuvenam. It was he that had been her only childhood friend in the Shattered Vales, and who had helped her to cope with being different. She adored him, but she sensed that the Oracle was not through, and the pavilion was pregnant with silence. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| “Finally, a presentation. We wish to introduce this young woman to proper Heraldic society.” The hand tightened on Stheno’s shoulder even as the lungs tightened in her chest. Gently, she was turned to face the crowd of splendid onlookers, and she felt suddenly naked beneath their open curiosity. Rania’s hand gripped softly, reassuringly, and Stheno took strength from the near-invisible gesture. She squared her shoulders and evened her stance. “This is Stheno. The laws of men recognize her as an adventurer-“ With her left hand, Rania produced a small stack of official-looking, wax-stamped documents and held one up “-But Duke Erheas believes that she should be a knight.” She pressed the recommendation to Stheno’s chest and the younger woman took hold of it, but Rania was already holding aloft two more. “Duke Vahanian believes she should be a knight, Grandmistress Jessica believes she should be a knight. And I-,” Rania said as she turned Stheno around to face the crowd, standing a head taller behind the young woman. Stheno couldn’t have known that it was the first time the Oracle had dropped the royal “We” to which she was entitled, but the stiffening spines, pricking ears, and squaring shoulders of the assembled noblemen was a clear enough indication that if it had never been done, it was extremely unusual. Rania wasn’t speaking as the Oracle now, or even as a Duchess. She was speaking as herself, and even Stheno had to think hard to place the last time she had heard it. “-I know that she was born to be a knight, even if it took her some time to agree. Stheno could almost feel Rania smiling behind her at that and her eyes began to roll before she remembered herself.
“Nobles, Heraldrim, children of Obeah, I this young woman present to this great society. No more shall she be known merely by her given name. This is Stheno of the Eastersand clans, third in line of the House of JeVondair. She is my daughter, and today at last, I am pleased to name her my heir.” Duke Vahanian was the first to clap and shout his excitement, and others followed suit, must to Stheno’s flushing embarrassment. But Rania was not finished. Stheno again felt the pressure on her shoulder as her mother turned her about to be face to face once more. “Bow” she commanded, and the Oracle’s voice was back, brooking or accepting no argument. It had been the bane of her existence in her youth, but now she was electrified and her spine seemed to bend of its own accord. The Oracle reached out with a hand, and Vahanian, who had probably been in on this spectacle from the very beginning, was already at hand to pass the Oracle’s Edict to its owner who then ceremoniously touched the massive, uncut sapphire to her left shoulder. “Do you Stheno of the House JeVondair swear on your blood that you will behave with and uphold the values, traditions, and the noble obligations of your Great House, to remember its winds and its sands and the heat of the sun that forged it? All Stheno could say was “Yes, I do.” The Edict moved to tap her left shoulder. “And do you,” The Oracle continued, “Swear to do all in your power to uphold the articles and conditions of Our faith and fealty before the Veiled Goddess? To bring Her divine word hither and yon, and to impress the peoples of the world by your Service, so that they may know Her cause is Just? To offer yourself, body and soul, as have the members of this august company here assembled to bear witness?” Stheno felt the eyes of all upon her. Her mouth was impossibly dry and wouldn’t swallow, as if all the moisture ordinarily reserved for it had instead been delivered to the palms of her hands, and she couldn’t tell if it was excitement, anxiety, or fear that caused her voice to crack a little as she confirmed “Y-yes, I do so swear.” The Edict was withdrawn, and in its place, Stheno felt her mother’s warm hands once more. “Then arise, my child, and embrace me as a Dame of the Heraldrim!” Stehno’ blinked in surprise, her mother never shouted, but the exuberance in her voice was so infectious as to be unmistakable, and Stheno blinked back tears she hadn’t realized were coming until they threatened to fall at that very moment. Rania pulled her in and hugged her tight, and Stheno squeezed back with everything she had. “You have a choice now, my girl. You can stay and help with what has been built here, or you can take ship east to squire under and be trained by the Phoenix Queen and her Duke of Blades.” | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno’s eyes widened still further. To be invited to join in the birth of a new nation as a true noble was not something she’d ever expected for herself, but she knew her mother’s plans and they were grand indeed, who knew what she, Stheno, might achieve there? Then again, there were few rocks large enough to live under for one to have never heard of the warriors of Redhaven and the legends that lived among them: A battlequeen who feared neither Time nor Death, an Invincible General, A Mountain that rides, rumors even said elves on more than one occasion. To Stheno, it was as though all the magic in the world were in the East, along with all the heroes she revered. She shot a glance at Vahanian, who merely smiled back. Suddenly, she was certain how Rania had discovered that particular desire of hers.
“Thank you…mom.” She whispered, voice small and heavy with the joyful tears she hadn’t allowed to fall. She didn’t see Rania grin with pleasure before she pulled back and held her mother at arm’s length so she could look into the eyes of the woman was mother to her and, in a sense, to everyone around her. Then her eyes slid over Vahanian and the others present who had only ever showed her kindness and knew that if the decisions was hers to make, it had already been made many times over. Her life was here, her family was here. “Thank you, Oracle,” she said louder and with new confidence. “it would be my honor if you recommended me to serve under such heroes, but I’ve already made my choice. I will stay,” she declared firmly, “and I will help you realize Obeah’s vision. I will see Lord Kethan healed and the Jidington Realm prosper. My fealty hence and always, is given to the Veiled Goddess. I will work Her Will in the world. Just like you!” And then her voice was lost in the raucous, welcoming cheers of the Sacred Court. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus was awestruck by what had just happened, First the Oracle openly thanked him for his party, which made him feel proud of what he has done tonight and then see openly embraced her child and has brought her into the nobility of Obia'Syela.
Marcus decied he would have to talk to Steno soon and formally welcome her and hopefully get to know the Oracle's daughter but firs, cake. He decided to tap his glass with his spoon which did't get everyone's attention though Duke Blint and Kethan noticed. He then motioned for a servant, he whisper something to them and the servant ran off. A minute passed and a bell was handed to Marcus he rung it. once, twice, thrice eventually the nobles became silent again allowing Marcus to speak, he set the bell down and smiled. "I would like to thank the Oracle for her kind words about me and Lord Kethan, I also would like to welcome Stheno Eastersand JeVoindar officially to Obia'Syela as a noblewoman, I know you will rise high in our realm, I would also like to announce that in few minutes there will be cake and after cake everyone will present their gifts to the Oracle, after that I will not bother you all again." The last statement got a chuckle from a few nobles. Marcus raised his cup "Now, Let us celebrate." Marcus then drank and sat back down as festivities continued. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura slowly drifted towards the area of prominent people and interest. Like tide eating away at the shore over decades, her motion was nigh impossible to notice, yet by the time the Oracle was done with the proclamation she was already at her destination. The destination being duke's back, surprisingly straight for an octogenarian.
As she found some space within the cheerful noise of the gathered, she said: "I believe congratulations are in order." - startling people at both sides of the addressed duke. Were it any noble less vigilant than Vahanian, he would be startled as well, but the old wolf, if shown any hint of surprise, Maura knew well it was most certainly feigned. Or perhaps she was mistaken. After all even closest comrades only ever knew her in a bulky armour or Inquisitorial robes. She never wore a dress before, not even to parties she attended. Indeed the impractical dark blue material tightly hugging her in places where one would appreciate a freedom of movement and somewhat restricting things as useful as breathing made her hardly able to recognize herself. Perhaps others would be equally confused. Nodding towards Stheno she spoke in low voice: "Such rise in formal court is not an easy feat" - she decided against adding 'I know that better than anyone', seeing no point in reminding that she was born outside of a noble recognition - "I know she was always treated as Oracle's proper daughter by those close to her, but technically I do not think the Oracle was married, so Stheno didn't have it any easier to make the leap, especially considering other factors..." Before venturing too far the Inquisitor changed the subject - "You must be proud. I can't seem to forget that time I watched you train Stheno and your... well. My late lady Jarra was a fosterling, I was raised an orphan, I can't say either of us ever knew the love and guidance I saw the young lady receive from you that day." "Speaking of guidance!" - Maura grinned at the mental image still alive in her head - "Should I be surprised at how good of a dancer you are? Truly splendid work at claiming the evening's floor for the pair of you, almost as splendid as the one you did at hiding that Antonia'ed shoulder of yours." - she gently applied an all-too-familiar friendly backslap at the Duke's upper shoulder. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian was wrapped up in the moment. He had eyes for only Stheno during her moment in the spotlight. His chest swelled with pride, his heart full of love and admiration. She might be Rania's daughter, but tonight he had all the pride of a father.
Maura graced the party with her presence, startling nearly everyone as she spoke from a place she had not been moments before. Vahanian feigned surprise until he looked at Maura, seeing her in a dress was something even he didn't expect. He quickly recovered and listened to Maura's congratulations. He was glad she alluded to the fact that she was born outside nobility, it was something most would find off-putting, Vahanian was the opposite. He rather liked that about Maura. She didn't grow up being fed the same porridge everyone else did. She had a unique way of looking at the world, and Vahanian respected the woman something fierce. She thumped him on the shoulder, and while he had healed, he forgot that the muscles in her arms were like banded iron. He was sure he would feel some soreness in the morning. He grinned at Maura and bade everyone's forgiveness. He wanted a word in private with Stheno. She had drifted off the side talking with some minor nobility, she made her own excuses as soon as she saw him and departed the conversation. She nearly ran over to him, her eyes still brimming with tears of joy. Vahanian, normally stoic and impassive, allowed a smile to spread across his face, reaching the corners of his eyes, as well as a single tear to streak down his cheek. She launched herself into his arms once more and he enveloped her in a hug. "Pride doesn't even begin to describe what I feel right now, little one. You've made an old man very, very happy." He put her down and wiped the tear from his face, lest he compromise his reputation. "Thank you, Uncle, I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me. I wouldn't be here if not for you." Vahanian smiled at her and said "I doubt that very much little one. You earned your place here." Her face lit up at his words, and that was all worth it to Vahanian. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small parcel. He said "I have a gift for you." He held out his hand, and she did the same. He deposited a small leather pouch into her waiting palm. She opened it and found a thin, but sturdy iron link necklace with a wolf pendent on it. "I forged that for you, so you always remember.." He paused and looked at Stheno, caressed her cheek and she asked "Remember what, Uncle?" He smiled and said "Your house name is JeVondair, but you'll always be my family. After all 'I oikogéneia den periorízetai apó to aíma'" She looked at him puzzled and he grinned mischievously and said "It's the language of my ancestors." She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. They both knew, Vahanian had trained her memory enough that she would remember each syllable until she could translate it. He hugged her again and said "Go, enjoy your evening, little one. You've earned it." She hugged him again, he kissed the top of her head and hugged her back, before she scampered off into the midst of the crowd. Vahanian leaned against one of the support poles of the pavilion and watched her disappear into the crowd as he pulled out his pipe and began smoking | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura watched the cake being brought in and felt an odd pang in her stomach akin to a phantom pain. Perhaps the corset she was forced to wear predicted the intended transgression and voiced his opposition. She quickly waved away the piece that was being brought to her and rose her eyebrows showing the panicked whites of her eyes the second Marcus mentioned presents.
She would've left her body and slapped her dumb face if such feat was possible. Showing up to the Oracle's birthday party without a gift, surely only her could dare such blunder. She quickly made use of all of her creative capacity and just as quickly walked towards the Oracle and clumsily courtsying she declared: "Your Holiness. If you'll allow. I bring thee the greatest, most unique gift of all." - she eyed Vahanian sneakily - "a gift of entertainment. A show of skill, by a most unlikely couple - now perhaps a bit rusted but once considered two best warriors in the realm..." - she allowed a smile creep up on her face - "... if His Grace Duke Vahanian will allow." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| The Cake was huge easily 6 feet tall if not more,
Its base layer was a navy blue with purple out linings of crowns from here each layer was black and had shining stars all over it, it took like the night sky outside, He went to the Oracle's side and handed her a knife to cut the cake, though the knife more resembled a sword due to its size. "Oracle, would you do us all the honour of cutting the first slice." | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| Kethan listened to Rania as she spoke, admiring the power behind her voice yet again. How different she was from the woman he had assisted once, back in the Vales, now more than 25 years ago. She was mostly acknowledging several noblemen and congratulating those deserving of recognition, as was to be expected. However, he was not quite ready for the moment his turn arrived.
- “Fourth, We wish to acknowledge the return of Our dear friend, Kethan D’Espana. Just as his father aided my family and eye in the past, so to as the son don in the present. He is frail now, yes, and close to the Veil, but know that his golden heart is that of a dragon. We tell you now that without this man. We would not be here, none of you would be here. He has come to Us for healing, and he shall have it by all the magic the veiled Goddess has placed at Our disposal. We can count on one hand those who have, knowingly or unknowingly, held the very fate and souls of nations in their hands. For this, we publicly revere him.” He hadn't been able to recover when Stheno's presentation to the high society arrived. He listened again to the achievements of his former ward, and an immense sense of pride and regret began forming inside. Pride, because he had kept her safe during her first years of life. Regret, because he had left her far too young when his illness had began to grow more wild and uncontrollable, making him fear for his life. Luckily Vahanian had stepped up and kept protecting and educating her, and he would never be able to properly thank the old man as much as he truly deserved. However, it was when Stheno spoke that a few tears escaped his closed eyes, tears that he took a second too long to wipe off his face. In all the years he had protected her, she had barely ever uttered a word. Now, she spoke firmly and clearly, and the sound of her voice stroke deeply buried feelings in a way that made him uncomfortably emotional. He could not resist a second wave when she said that she was going to heal him, and he visibly moved in his seat until he managed to somehow get his emotions under control again. Thankfully, Marcus claimed everyone's attention and signalled for the cake to come, which gave him a few very valuable seconds to recover. He was liking his energy and obvious attempts to maintain the party under control, and Kethan made a quick note to speak to him at some point of the celebration. Maura's sudden appearance did take him by surprise, though he immediately focused back in the task at hand. He needed to talk to Stheno, to apologize to her, to congratulate her, to... Stheno suddenly arrived to the table, launching herself at Vahanian. Hearing her voice, Kethan stood very still, listening to their conversation while trying to appear busy by nervously playing with his cup and plate. Shame and regret once again overwhelmed him, and he sighed audibly as she stepped off the table and back to the party again. However, he knew she would probably be waiting for some sort of acknowledgement or explanation. While Maura was trying to get Vahanian to dance for the Oracle and Marcus was overseeing the details of the cake ceremony, Kethan grabbed his cane, apologized to those around him, stood up and whispered to his servant. - "Take me to her." Once Kethan placed his hand on Maulde's shoulder, as he used to do when in difficult terrain or crowded spaces, the middle-aged man guided him to Stheno, who was naturally besieged by all those wanting to congratulate her and get close to the Oracle's newly recognized daughter. Cutting through with vulnerable looks and very believable excuses, he finally reached the young woman, and once Maulde gently tapped the hand he had placed in his shoulder, he knew he was looking straight as Stheno. - "I... Uh... I don't know how much do you remember of me, Stheno. You were only a little girl the last time I saw you, and it has been many, many years since that time. I..." He felt weak, sweat beginning to run down his forehead and the cane barely holding him on his feet. He thought he wouldn't be able to do it, but he suddenly remembered the immense pride he had felt when Stheno's accomplishments were being announced. She deserved an apology, period. And he was going to deliver. - "I should have never left you, Stheno. I was afraid and scared, and I didn't understand what was happening to me. I know Lord Vahanian has done a magnificent job at taking care of you, the fact that you are here now more than proves it, but..." Behind Kethan, Maulde was looking straight at Stheno, trying his best not to roll his eyes at his master. He knew how much he had missed the girl, and he was also aware of how awkward was it for her to listen to Kethan saying all that. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| With some very expressive gestures, Maulde tried to tell Stheno to just stop Kethan right there and show him some gesture of affection. He knew that would finally melt his master's heart, and some genuine approach to the running emotions of both would do them well. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix was taken way with the Oracle’s speech. The honor she gave him brought new joy and faith to his heart. He was very puzzled by who the woman was that the Oracle introduce to the gathering. Better ask Maura before she elbows me again, he thought. “Maura do you know wh...”
He quickly realized that he was all alone. Oh no, he thought. You’re not going to duck out on me that easily, especially after the abuse that you heaped upon me. With that thought Alacrix set forth to find Maura. Luckily for him Marcus had the cake brought out for the Oracle and Maura just happened to have been standing next to it. Thank Obeah for that. If that hadn’t happened he doubted he would have found her at all. He arrived to hear her ask Blint a question. “Excellent!” He stated. Not really knowing what was going on or what was excellent. Normally it was always a good word to exclaim. He gave Maura a quick side glance. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian turned as Maura mentioned a bout of entertainment between the two of them. She shot him a glance and he chuckled to himself. He was quite sure this was spur of the moment and entirely improvised. He walked over to Maura and the Oracle, bowed his head to his two friends and said "I would be honored, Lady Maura." He twisted the word Lady a bit as a friendly jab. Maura, normally inexplicably good at masking her emotions, looked at Vahanain with a look that told him he would likely regret the friendly jibe. Vahanian looked past Maura for a moment and saw Kethan speaking with Stheno, from the reaction of Kethan's butler, Vahanian assumed Kethan was less than gracefully bumbling through his conversation. Vahanian wasn't sure how much of Kethan, Stheno remembered. It was a subject that had notoriously been touchy with her, and one he decided long ago wasn't in his best interest to press. His attention divided between Maura's conversation with the Oracle and Kethan's interaction with Stheno, Vahanian didn't quite fully know what he was agreeing to do with Maura. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| The Oracle had summoned Lord Herald Eva to attend her at High Noon, right in the very midst of the ongoing Tournament and attendant celebrations. Eva was not late, but it was a minor pilgrimage up the wound halls and stairways of the immense palace that was The Basilica of Rines. The journey was enough to exhaust the physically-able, much more so those who lead more sedentary lifestyles. Eva could understand how the Oracle, widely known as a reclusive woman, would value the...natural discouragement to ward off all but the most determined of callers. To say nothing of the security! It felt to Eva as though she were stopped and challenged without end by the Oracle's Paladins, blue-armored sentinels that patrolled the Basilica in pairs and stood guard at various points all the way to the Oracle herself. What's more, Eva noted, they all seemed to know exactly who she was and what business she was on, yet still each pair queried her as if they knew nothing of the sort. To call the unnatural barriers the Oracle erected around herself substantial would be something of an understatement. Small wonder why half the court thought the Oracle a mystery.
Then, as the bells of noon began to ring across the Moonlight City, Eva was at last admitted to the Oracle's foremost sanctum. The Solarium was the architectural marvel of the Basilica of Rines. Placed at the pinnacle of the large central tower, the Solarium was the highest room in southern Beluaterra. The room was only accessible by a long, wide, winding flight of steps that eventually reached a trap door, now open. Upon emerging, most visitors first notice the Solarium's ceiling and learn how this room got its name. It's ceiling and walls were a latticework of bronze-plated supports and pains of clear glass forming a dome over a room about the size of a dining hall and ringed by a circular balcony that afforded a better view of Rines to those that were brave enough to walk it. A low, comfortable couch sat atop a thick blue carpet set along the western edge sat facing the wooded hills of Athol Margos, poised to welcome the moonrise. Vases and hangings filled with exotic plants were spaced regularly throughout. Arcane symbols had been painted in intricate golden patterns across the stone floor. A circular table of hasty but solid construct had been arranged in the center. Outside, the night was alight with stars and the rising crescent moon, if not for the lanterns that had been lit for the summit, visitors to the Solarium might get the impression that they were walking among those celestial bodies. Whereas in the daytime, curtains of sheer white linen hung from the supports like banners, billowing with the slightest breeze, protecting occupants from the blazing sunlight. It was a bright day outside and sunlight sliced through the spaces left between the linen shades, leaving shifting pools of a radiance across the stonework floor. It was in one of these pools of gold that Eva laid eyes upon the Oracle for the first time. Rania Eastersand JeVondair sat cross-legged on one of the two thick, comfortable cushions near the Solarium's center with a thick tome in her hands. The Oracle of Obeah was a striking figure. Tall for a woman, even seated, and slender of frame but strong of build. At age 60, she wouldn't be fighting anymore duels, and her once-chocolate hair was now liberally threaded with bands of silver, but to look at her was to gain the impression that she certainly still could if the need arose. Rania wore the stately, comfortable white robes of her vocation. Across her face she wore a symbolic, ceremonial veil of religious office denoting her allegiance to the Veiled Goddess. And, Eva noticed, marking this meeting as official Heraldic business. In short, she looked like the woman she was rumored to be: A priestess, a queen, and an eminently capable sorceress. Rania looked up with an unsurprised expression and smiled, gesturing to the cushion seated opposite her in open invitation. "Welcome, Little Sister," she said, eyes glinting in the sunlight. "We have such sights to show you..." | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| It was something...something I will never forget. Still the event lingers in my thoughts even as the discomfort from the journey up and down the basilica fades. Never would I have thought that such a building would exist. So many stairs, so many guards. I know you haven't a care in the world about these nameless faces. Nor do you care about the stairs. I only mention them for they were many. Like stars hiding behind the cloudy night sky, unseen but never-ending and always present. Exaggeration I know but you should have seen it. A sight to behold it was. But as you know, I didn't go to the basilica to climb stairs and stare at Templars. Eventually I made it to the Solarium. Maybe it was the stairs, maybe my nerves, regardless my heart raced and with each thump another bead of sweat seemed to form. If only I wore a thinner robe I thought. Too late now, for I finally stood in front of Her.
You remember the tales of Her beauty no? Well, she may have aged and the veil she wore may have been a keenly worn mask but I knew what lay beneath. No, it was not my imagination. Many would simply see what they wanted but not me. I saw Her, as she was and not as I wanted Her to be. The signs of aging were there, gentle beginnings of wrinkles and the glimmers of grey in her hair. Despite all of this, the veil of time and cloth, she still retained her beauty. Looks are not all that tend to fade, for many grow weaker in their age. It is hard to say if her strength has diminished. She wasn't exactly out fighting in the tournament that energized the city around us. I like to think she would have been capable of holding her own out there. Alas, strength was not needed for our encounter. This was to be a display of wisdom. When I first saw Her, she was seated on the opposite end of the room on a cushion. In her hand was a tome and on her face a smile. With a gesture she offered me a seat and welcomed me. Her voice was smooth as silk as she said, "Welcome, Little Sister. I have something to show you." I will admit, her voice caught me off guard. For some reason I exposed it to be a bit more raspy. And Little Sister? What did that mean? I expected a formal greeting but this, this wasn't exactly motherly but one that gave an appearance of equality while still expressing a distance. It is possible that this was just a common phrase but I have never heard it before. I would be ready to believe it was just a saying with little meaning but it would require her to be a bit careless instead of deliberate. That can't be the case. She knew what she was doing. From the place of the meeting, atop the basilica, to the arrangement of the room and her place in it. Every detail was planned, I'm sure of it. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| “See you?” Rania inclined an eyebrow, a laughing glint in her eye. “I may be old, but blind I am not. Had I but wanted to see you, child, I would have sent for a portrait, or perhaps a skilled poet…” she mused, making a show of serious consideration. “No, little sister, I’ve summoned you here to know you.” The Oracle reached up to remove the High Priestess Veil she wore, banishing the last officious barrier between the two and smiling warmly.
She reached into the tome she’d been reading and plucked out a loose, folded page which she then laid neatly on the low table between them. It was a map! As Eva deciphered its markings, Rania waited. The younger woman was sure to realize that the Oracle had been tracking her movements. Or, more precisely, her preaching. The map was studded with scrawled notations denoting increases in the number of faithful, low and highborn alike. Indeed, there was an entire section of notes denoting Eva’s returning of Sir Jheda to the faith. Rania had been especially delighted by that, but Eva’s work and calm demeanor had been commented upon by many already. Before Eva could ask, Rania spoke again. “You know…” She began in a friendly, non-chalant tone, “I remember when you first came into my care. If I had suspected then what I do now, then we would have had this little chat earlier. But you see-“ she paused, frowned down at the tray with the map upon it for a moment, looked up, and clapped her hands. Moments later, one of the armored Paladins that guard the Solarium clanked in. Instead of a weapon, the paladin held an additional tray with a delicate porcelain tea set, already steaming. He set it down next to the two women, saluted, and retreated down out the trap door that was the Solarium’s only entrance. Rania picked up the pot with a delicate, practiced manner, revealing the faded blade-scars along her hands from her younger, more violent days. Finished, she tried a sip herself and sighed in satisfaction before gesturing palm open to the second tea cup, a clear indication that it was Eva’s if the younger priestess desired it. “But you see…” she repeated, “It is not my place, even as the Oracle, to select the destiny of a fellow noble. Like the star-gazers of old, I merely chart the course of possibilities and adjust them as the are affected by events. You, Little Sister,” she sipped again, “Your course changed the instant you returned one of my Farseers home to me.” Rania was referring to Sir Jheda, who had left the Heraldic Order some months previous to wander adrift. It was Eva that had throne him a lifeline of faith, reaching a heart that had frustrated even Rania’s own efforts. Rania had been quietly surprised and delighted, and had marked Eva down as one to be watched and nurtured ever since. “I brought you here, young one, because I wanted to take your measure, priestess to priestess. I had intended to ask you why you came to serve Obeah as you do, to understand what moves and drives you, to look into your heart through the windows of your soul to see what is written upon its walls. But I have always had something of a talent for reading people, and I see you in you everything I’d hoped to. Whether or not you can rise to the challenge I have in store for you, however, only you can decide.” | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Rania sipped her tea as she allowed her words to sink in. Eva, it seemed, was somewhat overwhelmed, but Rania understood. To be summoned to the pinnacle of power in the Faith, never mind the South, and to be told that you have been watched and approved of would be a lot for anyone, and Rania was thankful that her many years of oratory experience had given her masterful control over her facial expressions, lest the ebullient grin lurking in the depths manage to burst out. She wanted to give Eva time to reply, but she had still more to say. She placed her teacup down to indicate as much.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, Grandmistress Jessica will be leading the Heraldic initiative in Jidington. This was at my direction, and I do not do anything by halves. We discussed the possible successors to the Obian throne that would be the best fit for these times and challenges that face us. It is my opinion that Jessica has been the greatest leader this realm has had since the founding. Those are some incredibly big shoes to fill. Even then, though, I’d already had a firm notion in my mind as to who I would want to follow in her footsteps, even as she followed in mine.” Rania’s levity slowly seeped away as she spoke, her well trained voice was mellifluous as ever, but her tone had shifted to that of a sovereign as Rania put on her Oracle-face. This matter was one of gravity. “I told Grandmistress Jessica that if I had to pick one person to succeed her in carrying my Vision into the future, I would pick you. The only question I have now is do you share my belief, or do I find someone who does? The Oracle of Obeah sipped her tea and waited intently. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura smiled deviously in reply to Vahanian's jibe and snapped her fingers to summon a servant. She moved her hands over the material tightly fitting her hips, saying: "As you can plainly see I have no tools of the trade on me, allow me to just..." - she whispered something to the servant's ear and before long the young lad returned with two five feet long quarterstaffs and as he bowed he clumsily handed them to the Inquisitor.
"Your -Grace-" - Maura tried to mimick Vahanian's inflection from before as she tossed him one of the staffs, intentionally making it spin around the y-axis. The reflexes of the old wolf outrageously defied his age. Maura squinted her eyes in feigned malice. "Well, your shoulder might still remember the tournament, your bones might recall finer days, my own might be slightly out of practice, not to mention this..." - she looked down at her evening gown, half-cut at knee height yet still obviously uncomfortable - "... impractical attire. Plenty of imperfections between the two of us... a 'Match of Flaws' let us call it then." Maura waved her staff around prompting gathered crowd to make some space until she turned to Alacrix, who was now beside her. She cut short the giggle that was forming in her throat, then as if with a handsome thief caught climbing the window amidst the night she pondered whether to toss him to the cobblestone beneath or let him in. After a brief deliberation she ushered Alacrix to the side along with the rest of onlookers. But to him she whispered: "As I said - it is a match of flaws. I don't think you have any, Champion Alacrix..." - then noticing apparent disappointed of her noble companion she quickly pecked him on the left cheek and said - "wish me luck" - before turning around as if in tremendous hurry, breaking the eye contact and focusing on the imminent fight. As she walked towards Vahanian and away from the young champion she felt as if someone decided to make a bonfire in the middle of the hall, the warmth on her face next to unbearable. The furies in her mind were accusing her of insanity. She couldn't help but concur. With her focus back on the fight a smile crept up on her face, prompted by the thought: 'Facing the first blade of the realm... how fortunate that we will be using no blades'. "How fortunate indeed" - she thought out loud and catching herself on the indiscretion she coughed to hide it and bowed again before the Oracle: "On your mark, Your Holiness" - she faced the lethal Duke, a glint in her eye conveyed intent as well as a written letter - 'let's give them a show, old wolf', she could swear she read a reply in Vahanian's gaze: 'yes... let's.' | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix was dumbstruck by what just happened. She kissed me! Wait! I thought she was angry at me, he thought.
Alacrix was very perplex. Just a moment a go she elbowed him in the ribs and then disappeared. He didn't even know what he said to make her so angry. She just asked what him who that knight was and he told her. I don't know why she got so angry when I pointed out Sir Ruairi. Seriously she was asking me a question about who was that knight and then looking at him....OOoh. It was then that Alacrix realized that maybe she wanted to be jealous that she was staring at some young knight that wasn't him. Then maybe when she walked she just wanted to make sure that I would follow her. More revelations were popping up in Alacrix's mind. Wait did she just say that I had no flaws? With that last one Alacrix broke out into a wild smile. And cheered Maura on. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian caught the stave and spun it in his hands. The feigned malice shooting through Maura's eye made him grin. He wondered if she knew him well enough to know he despised fighting with staves. They were clunky and unbalanced.
She whispered to Alacrix and pecked him on the cheek. Vahanian raised an eyebrow, he'd never seen Maura display any sort of physical affection towards anyone. The glint in her eye was all the message he needed, and he knew she'd read his acceptance. They squared off, more than one onlooker commented on how a fight was breaking out at the Oracle's birthday. He ignored them all, ignored everyone except Maura. He closed his eyes and took a breath. He snapped them open and advanced. As soon as he struck the first blow, he knew he'd lost. Aggressive was a dangerous way to fight against someone as skilled as Maura. Her counter to his strike was technically perfect, the force behind it, was unexpected. Vahanian berated himself, he was getting sloppy, getting slow. Maura danced around him as he had with Stheno earlier in the evening. She was light on her feet and strong with her strikes. Vahanian hated fighting on the defensive, it never suited him. She shot her stave inside his guard and caught his shoulder with a glancing blow. It hurt more than he would have expected. He hoped he hadn't winced.. He couldn't remember? He suddenly became aware of how many people were watching the bought. He tried to push it from his mind, to clear his thoughts. To focus. He shook his head, and advanced on Maura. He needed to focus on fighting right now. Strike after strike, counter after counter, parry after parry, step after step. The two friends fought, they put on a wonderful show, a remarkable display of skill and control. Vahanian caught Rania's eye more than once, she looked amused. He saw Stheno in the background, she looked a mixture of awe-inspired and worried. Worried? Why would she be worried? The thought hit him harder than any strike Maura could throw. He once again became aware of his shoulder, how much it ached. He ignored the pain. He advanced once more. Strike high, feint middle, strike high, strike low, feint high, feint low, strike middle. Maura blocked or countered it all. It was infuriating. He wished he held a sword. He was frustrated. "Oh no." He thought to himself. Emotion surged to the surface, it was like wine to a drunk, it was nourishing and poisonous, glorious and treacherous. He tried to fight it off, but he might as well have been trying to stop the waves of the ocean from breaking on the beach. His vision fogged with frustration, weariness, pain, anger. He struck at Maura three more times, and the third he over extended himself, she danced in, swept his right leg forward and caused him to drop to his knee. She flicked the stave out of his hand, and pinned her own to his shoulder. Vahanian's vision cleared, he looked up at her and immediately was grateful they were friends. She did two things he would always respect her for. She didn't position her stave in a position that would have indicated a kill in a death duel, nor did she ask him to yield. Neither was needed, both knew who won. Vahanian accepted the hand she offered, stood and faced her. He bowed to her, an unusual action for the old duke, and he said "You prove, once again my friend, why you are not to be trifled with. As with young Alacrix over there, I will be asking for a rematch soon enough.." | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| After helping the Duke up Maura returned his bow and said nothing. Those who didn't know her would think her rude or even disrespectful, the select few however were well aware that she did not speak simply because there was no need for it. She just shared an eloquent conversation with her friend even though it didn't look like it to most of the onlookers.
Talking was an artifice to Maura. To know her, to truly know her one ought to try bandying blows rather than words with her. Her true language was combat, and Vahanian spoke it all too fluently. She smiled at the old noble, dropping her usual facade as a sign of respect. Then she turned to the Oracle and bowed, hoping she enjoyed the show, before retreating to rejoin Alacrix's side. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix watch Maura walked back to him. He couldn't help but think why his face felt weird until he realized that he was smiling. Seeing Maura walk up to him and knowing that she felt something for and him feel...happy. When Maura reached his side he spoke so that only she could hear. "It feels a little hot in here. Would you be up for a walk in the gardens? If Antonia hasn't made to many changes I know a little spot that is secluded." | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
Antonia's After Party
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura was one of the first nobles to arrive at the Basilica for the after party following the conclusion of the tournament. The first thing she noticed were the walls that seemed rather 'bare' compared to what she remembered. She smirked slightly, thinking "Antonia must've taken some precautions".
The second thing she noticed was the templar chill climbing up her ankles. She could not remember when was the last time she wore a dress... if indeed ever. Although the dark blue fabric made her look her very best, she felt like a tiger in a nightgown - utterly ridiculous. The lazily distributed beverages of all kinds appealed to her thirst, yet she knew better than to indulge the dangerous vice after the years of sobriety. Instead she picked up what seemed like a weirdly murky water and enquired nearby servant about "that thing that Vahanian puffs" not getting her hopes up about actually acquiring the exotic substance. Maura looked around for her expected partner for the evening but Alacrix was most likely still being lauded victor of the tournament - shaking countless hands, accepting countless pats on the back. Instead she decided to pay her compliments to the evening's hostess. "Antonia... I mean, Marshal Antonia" - Maura enquired a guardswoman placed in front of Marshal's quarters - "is she in?" "And who's asking?" - the guardswoman rasped with a voice that enjoyed it's fair share of spirits. "Why... I am, of course." - Maura answered, honestly perplexed by the question. "And who is... Your name, miss?" - the guard continued. "Maura" - to that answer the guardswoman just nodded and disappeared behind the door. From the other side barely audibly the voice could be heard: "... lady ... some woman asks for you... some Maura." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
| Maura suddenly heard some pounding feet as the door flew open and Antonia burst out, barrelling into Maura and giving her a massive hug. If Maura hadn’t been the size she was, she would likely have been knocked flying. Even so, she managed to lift Maura off her feet ‘I’ve missed you friend, it hasn’t been the same without you’ she said, breaking off the hug and grinning with unburdened joy | |
| Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Cheerful laughter was one of the rarest sounds to ever escape Maura's upper body, so it surprised her greatly as her feet lost touch with the ground.
"I missed you too, Antonia! But please do not ruin my only dress." - she said, overt humour in her voice. "I do enjoy what you did with the Basilica greatly. Not sure Her Holiness will share the mirth... not to mind, such occasion has to be celebrated, and the place can survive not being somber for one day in sixty years." Maura turned to the hallway, saying - "other guests should be arriving by now, shall w... about that!" - she interrupted herself mid-word - "I've stolen your former vice-Marshal for the evening. I hope you don't mind?" | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix was trying to blend in with the crowd. He was trying to find Maura before he was noticed by anyone that might give him away. As he rounded a corner he ran into the Herald. Alacrix never liked the man. He was always a pompous blowhard that thought himself better than everyone. Back when Alacrix was in charge of the Holy Basilica he tried to get the man fired. Alsa there was some idiotic clause that had it so he could not get rid of the man.
In a brief moment of panic Alacrix sputtered. "I will give you thirty gold coins to say that you never saw me." The Herald paused for a second and he smirked and gave Alacrix a look of pure disdained before shouting in a loud voice for all to hear. "THE HONORABLE SIR ALACRIX GALAR THE WINNER OF TOURNAMENT HAS ARRIVED. HE IS IN THE PARLOUR WILLING TO SIGN ANY AND ALL AUTOGRAPHS." His voice boom across the entire floor. Then in what would appear an impossible small voice after that booming declaration he said. " Take you money and shove it. It's worth seeing you squirm." With that the man left before Alacrix could get in a biting retort. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura was about to grasp Antonia's shoulder for stability as she heard:
"THE HONORABLE SIR ALACRIX GALAR THE WINNER OF TOURNAMENT HAS ARRIVED. HE IS IN THE PARLOUR WILLING TO SIGN ANY AND ALL AUTOGRAPHS" She squinted her eyes - "speaking of the devil. Forgive me..." - she said to Antonia before rushing off to general celebration area. It was not difficult to locate a crowd slowly gathering around an unobtrusive character. "If I may!" - Maura half-shouted storming through the crowd. A smirking herald lost balance, tumbling to the stone floor as he tried to make way for advancing Inquisitor. She took a firm hold of Alacrix's arm and said to him, though loud enough for all to hear: "I am sure the Oracle is yet to receive champion's birthday wishes. We must not keep her waiting." As soon as they escaped out of earshot of the disappointed crowd she half-whispered: "I hope you don't mind the ploy, I am not good with..." - she motioned at the tightly packed group of prominent people. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| "Maura!" He let her drag him from the crowd. He felt a mixture of giddines and stark terror. "Thank Obeah for getting me out of there. I'm not that good with a crowd. I never done anything to warrant one. I tried to find you first but that herald has always taken an extreme dislike to me. Anyways sorry for the ramblings and being late." He looked at her hopeful that he didn't just commit a major blunder. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| "Thank Obeah for getting me out of there. I'm not that good with a crowd. I never done anything to warrant one." - Alacrix said walking leisurely to a more secluded part of the hall with the unusually glamorous Inquisitor at his arm.
"Never done anything to warrant one?!" - Maura nearly guffawed - "You turned up a black horse at the tournament that had some of the greatest swordarms in the land and achieved a formidable victory; making many bet-takers very angry, doubtless, and a lucky few of them very happy. Not to mention you've squarely beaten someone once considered the finest warrior in the realm in the very first round." - Maura punched her cleavaged chest to make the jibe overly obvious. As her companion's apparent discomfort grew at the realization that he had all but humiliated the woman he now shown up to the party with, so too did Maura's amusement. Mirth entirely banished the usual chill from her voice as she rested her hand on his arm and said - "Easy, Alacrix. I am just teasing. I would be truly offended if you held back on the arena. My days of glory are long past but it doesn't mean I cannot still enjoy the martial exhilaration of combat." As Maura felt unfamiliar dryness in her throat she noticed that she was unusually talkative around Alacrix. As if catching herself on breaking a private promise she broke herself from deep thought by pointing overtly at a new arrival - "I must've missed much. I don't know that person, do you?" The sentence would've seemed odd to someone who didn't knew Maura before. Back then she would struggle to be able to speak it about anyone in the realm - from the Grand Council official to the lowest scum of the southern docks. Nothing escaped the eyes of the Inquisition, and those particular eyes used to be firmly set beneath her very own forehead. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix could not get over the idea of how much of a fool he was acting that night. He wondered how he could be this nervous when there was no threat of death or danger. Then again by how much Maura was talking it seemed that he might not be the only one that was nervous.
"Maura, I highly doubt your days of glory are long past." Alacrix was a little troubled by her question. He was use to her knowing everybody in the realm. She truly has been gone for a while, he thought. He put on his best smile and said to her. "Which one? I see the young Knight Ruairi. I believe he is a part of the Oracle and Grandmistress new Realm plan. The other is Sir D'Espana. I don't know to much about him but I believe he is also another one that will a part of the new Realm plan." | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
