Kingsley Family/Alyssa/The Gala

This story describes a social event held by Duke Smiddich Fontaine aboard his ship, The Wayfairer's Gambit moored in Perdan Harbour after being freed from Alarin Castillo's clutches during the Battle of Bescanon. The event initially began as a result of a letter sent to the realm by Dame Aila Storme, a young knightess of Perdan, decrying the actions of the realm of Shadowdale. Amused and intrigued by the young woman's spirit and disdain for Shadowdale which he too shared, he decided to invite her to his ship under the pretense of a party in order to get to know her better.

This event was notable for its large level of participation; over 200 messages by 21 nobles, about half of the realm at the time over only two weeks.

The following characters were present at the event:

Smiddich Fontaine

Apollyon Daubeny

Delphine De Montigny

Aila Storme

Jacelyn Goldwater

Isabel Vorn

Kenneth MacArbin

Isana Everlight

Alyssa Kingsley

Christopher Stewart

Nemean JeVondair Renodin

Rogos V'Orlan

Lorelai Chamberlain

Benjamin Pryde

Kay Peregrine

Salem Belmont

Alain Lancaster

Ulric Hawk

Lucius Poe

Elinor Hensley

Adel Willowvale

Fontaine

4/24/2020

The sun dipped over the cool waters of the Perdan bay. The islands protected the docks from the hostile waves, and it was only the castle itself, built into that magnificent cliff-face which took any substantial spray. It was not by coincidence that the Ducal palace looked out over that awesome display.

Everything was in readiness for the Gala. The docks had been cleaned and cleared for carriages to arrive, and an army of porters and guides were ready to assist the invitees - foreign and domestic - to the deck of the Wayfarers Gambit. This tremendous vessel - recently a hostage of the vile Eponllyn - had been primped, painted, waxed and shined until she was worthy to host this prestigious event. A multi-decked sailing ship, candlelight shone from every porthole, giving a familiar and warming glow. The deck gleamed with the hard work of many deckhands, and every pin and coil was orderly and presentable.

All the staff, from the footmen to the pages to the serving staff, were dressed in plain black shirt, skirt or slacks; there was no surcoat or colours tonight, instead, a silver pin boasting the silver stag of House Fontaine. At the appointed time, the gangplank was run out, and manned on both sides by the personal guard of the Black-Bladed Duke himself; a cadre of special forces in halfplate, armed with ornamental but deadly polearms.

On the deck, servers stood with trays offering the beverage known as the Opening Gambit. Thin shotglasses with a deliciously viscous and potent honey liquor were offered, to warm the belly and the spirits ahead of the evenings entertainment. Beyond, trestles of finger food, cold meats and condiments, freshly baked bread and cheeses, preserves, and an amazing array of local and imported alcohols. Those knights who ran or owned breweries, meaderies and distilleries among their family businesses had outdone themselves with sweet and dry drinks of all varieties. Managing the catering (and the kegs) with a stern eye, was Bruce; the proprietor of the Bloody Stump.

Music played from atop the foc'sle; a trio of musicians played stringed instruments, lightly enough to delight the district but not so loud as to distract from the conversation. There were knights of the realm, true, but also minor lordlings, wealthy merchants and perhaps a foreign dignitary or two among the gentle throng.

The interior was a gallery in every sense; the Duke had turned the ship of war into a floating stateroom and museum. Nautical memorabilia decorated the majority; there were tapestries, paintings and art of all tastes; dark rugs of deepest crimson ran plush underneath and every window and trophy case gleamed with attention and not a speck of dust. These artifacts had been gathered over a lifetime of seafaring distinction, and no doubt each had a daring tale to tell. There were crossed cutlasses, sails and standards, and the enormous horn of some awesome beast, which hung over the doorway to the festhall proper.

Finally, at the fore of the ship was the scene of the evenings entertainment. Performers of all sorts flitted among the partygoers; acrobats, musicians, jongleurs. A mailed guard at each entrance discouraged investigation from the more sensitive areas of the vessel; a long table had been arrayed at the furthest end, set with seven chairs; the central magnificent and clearly dominant. Servants yet milled about, delivering food and drink, and dispensing the gift of an ornate folding fan of silk and horn to those overcome by drink or stuffiness.

The Duke himself stood by the stage, entertaining a long line of guests; he greeted each by name, if occasionally assisted by a sharply dressed seneschal. The Duke of Perdan had not always been comfortable with formality, civility, or even nobility. For a time, smoke and plunder had been all he had known. Now, he wore his rank in posture and demeanor. His fingers were bedecked in rings of steel and silver, ravendark hair dashed with a streak of grey. A moustache and goatee - rakish, oiled - accompanied a long black smoking jacket embossed with a wave motif down to the knee. Though he wore a belt, with an ornate buckle of silvery-white which might have been platinum, he took no sword tonight. Instead, the master swordsman wore a dagger at his side, slim and richly gemmed, and no less deadly in his hands. Expensive slippers of some dark crush he wore over silken hose; a comfortable outfit just shy of ostentatious.

At a glance, the seneschal declared, "Honored guests of House Fontaine; the gala shall begin in one hour, hence. Please enjoy yourself above and below deck - eat, and drink as to your wont. Guests requiring preparation of instruments or for rehearsal, rooms to the starboard have been made ready. Please avail yourselves to the staff for any needs!"

The gala had begun.

Daubeny

4/24/2020

Apollyon reaches the vessel of Duke Fontaine, it was a impressive vessel indeed, Apollyon thought far greater then even the largest Blackstone Legion Warship.

He walked onto the vessel, dressed in his finer clothes, a black and orange tunic along with a grey hose. Tied together by a clack belt and simple leather boots, he shaved the scruff from his face and combed his hair. Apollyon felt naked as he had forgone his armour for once, a recommendation of his squire. He also wore a pendant that bore the Blackstone Daubeny insignia and walked over to the line that led to the host, Duke Smiddich Fontaine.

He had seen the prestigious Duke at many tournaments in the past, from memory he had faced the Duke at least once. He waited his turn and made sure his gift was not misplaced.

Apollyon was unarmed a fact that brought him slight unease. He felt underdressed as many of the guest had brought their finest clothes. Apollyon could feel their judgemental looks already.

He wondered how he should greet the man, was it proper to shake his hand? Does he call him Lord? Or Liege as he ruled the City he called home. Did he call him Duke, or his grace.

Apollyon was not all that familiar with Perdanese Culture, he hoped it was not too different from Perleoni Culture but then again based off what he had seen it was not likely.

He wondered for a moment how his friends were, he cleared that thought, he knew how they were and he would not ruin tonight with such thoughts. Before he knew he was before the Duke himself, of course dressed as Apollyon expected, he offered a very slight bow “Good Evening Duke Fontaine, I thank you for the invitation to tonight’s festivities”

De Montigny

4/24/2020

As Delphine arrived at the estate in Mulhouse, quite tired from marching through the mountains for nothing again, she noticed a cart with barrels near the front walkway. A bit confused asked the groundskeeper what it was, her tone a bit snappy, more so than intended.

-"The delivery from the Jenson Family Brewery, as requested for the party. Three casks of "Nicoli's Select Premium Amber Ale" and one of their new "Paladin Reserve Stout." The old man similarly looked a bit confused. "I also added the 6 bottles of wine from our first production of "de Montigny Pinot Noir as requested in a crate."

-"But why is it here and not in Perdan?" The Malgravine, looking even more annoyed.

-"We never got the message as to where to send it to. It's been sitting here for three days m'lady.

It was at the moment that it occurred to her that she never sent the raven with the confirmation date of Smiddichs' party.

-"Well I did send the message, it must have not made it through the mountains. Well get it to Perdan straight away, I have to leave in the morning myself and I expect it to be there when I arrive. That is all."

The man walked away shaking his head while mumbling to himself as Delphine hurried inside to take a well deserved bath and get some sleep before heading to bed. Just as she was getting out of the bath a raven appeared with a letter at her window sill. The letter was short but with great importance. She crumpled the letter and threw it into the fireplace. She stood there, lips pressed tight, watching it burn.

Storme

4/24/2020

Her estate in Aix was two regions away, a considerable distance to travel with the two servants that had declared they "come with the place" when she and her father had first made their home in Aix. Aila hadn't thought twice about renting a room for them all in Perdan- not presumptuous to assume there would be any proper apartment for her in the capital, plenty of places touted rooms for "nobles only" and this was one of them. The place was old, and you could smell it. Not in an unpleasant way but in an ancient way that can't be reproduced with scents and oils... the smell of a hundred years of wood burning fires and oak supports and dust between floor boards. How fitting that it would remind her of her father, and the old Stormeholde In Dwilight as she stared at the carefully wrapped parcel left on her bed.

"Leave me" she would command them, both male they would never suggest otherwise when their Lady didn't prefer to be helped into her dress. The door shut silently, the sound of the latch drowned out by the ruckus in the main areas just down the stairs.

And there she was, alone with /it/. The parcel still had the hand written card tucked beneath the ribbon that held it together -Aila- in her fathers well practiced, slanted handwriting. It had been the last thing he gifted her, arriving at their estate just hours after his death all the way from dress makers in Dwilight- in her grief she had shut it away unopened but now was the time to let it out. House Storme was a shadow of a house, and she was the only one left to cast it upon the world and so she knew her father would have wanted her to show up at her first event since his passing with all the radiance he could've mustered for her. A shaky hand caressed the blue ribbon that bound it, azure, or Storme Blue as he would've called it and her fingers tightened on the end as she quickly tugged the knot loose letting her name slide off the parcel, onto the bed.

Something glinted inside as the wrapping shifted, and Aila pulled the soft linen that encased the gift apart to reveal a bodice presented first, folded over layers of skirts. It was a material she did not recognize- soft, but well underlined within and dyed a deep inky black. it was beauteous- but confusing. A black dress? Thought of funerals raced through her mind as she pulled the bodice out and set it aside, understanding now what her fathers true plan was as she pulled out layers of skirts, both black and the azure, "Storme blue" of the her house... It was their colors, and on the outermost skirt their charge- a falcon- had been richly embroidered in what appeared to be silver threads on backing of blue and black, slashed through in a manner reminiscent of her crest.

Once put together, laid on the bed it looked like a dress a family twice as important as her own would have made- how did father afford this? And why? The answer came to her as quickly as if the man was standing beside her...Don't ask how people got your gifts Aila, just say...

"Thank-you..." The words came out aloud and echoed back at her in the room, she snapped back to reality as they did so and moved to tidy away the wrapping before getting dressed. A clatter of metal caught her attention and she scooped up a rather weighty silver pendant on a thin chain off the old floor. Another falcon, she realized and dig through the paper to find a silver bracelet with a matching falcon, sitting at attention as on their banner, and silver comb for her hair that unlike everything else had a falcon with wings spread as if taking off. He had thought of all but shoes she realized...but knew that he knew, he had bought her enough shoes to last a lifetime long before this dress. "Gods, you're the reason we've no money old man" she would joke to the father who never answered back, but always took her quips with good humor in life.

Goldwater

4/24/2020

Jacelyn and his servant rode all day from Nascot to reach Perdan in time. Just before coming in sight, Jacelyn stopped his horse and changed clothes. He could not come in his old jacket, dirty and dusted after the ride. He changed into the best clothes he had - a black brocade pourpoint, supplemented with colourful hose. The squire helped him to hide his broken arm under the pourpoint, collected the dirty clothes and turned back to return to the city.

Now properly dressed, Jacelyn approached the ship. When aboard, he joined a big crowd of nobles heading inside. He waited patiently in the line with his gift in hand, a beautiful ornamental dagger and a small bottle of Bisciyan wine. Finally, after some time, he stood right before the duke. "Your Grace." Jacelyn made a bow, while looking the duke straight in the eyes. "It is truly an honour to be invited to an event this glamorous. Here, a little gift." With these words Jacelyn handed over the dagger and the bottle to the seneschal standing nearby.

De Montigny

4/24/2020

Delphine arrived at the docks in a rush, afraid she was going to be late. To her great relief, she notices that although festivities were already under way, there were still quite a few people lined up to board the magnificent vessel.

She was wearing a long elegant emerald dress with black sashes adorned with a delicate ruby necklace and long matching earrings reminiscent of the de Montigny coat of arms. It was quite a change from her usual armor that she had seldom taken off for more than just sleeping in the last couple months. It was nice to be "free" for a change and was looking forward to the time off.

She looked around for the young knight of Bisciye, Jacelyn Goldwater, the one she promised as a favour to Smiddich to accompany this evening. Her interactions with him had been purely business in the past and knew very little of the man, but was amused at the though of having a date this evening.

She boarded the ship and made her way to the front where people were crowing around a man she was always happy to see. She pushed her way through the crowd, jugglers, and other entertainment to where Smiddich stood welcoming guests and accepting gifts. She made her way to him with much more confidence then the last time she attended one of his parties, her status as vice marshal gaining her the respects of the knights of Perdan and that of margravine the respect of the people. Formalities left on shore, she hugged her duke, but to her he was like an uncle, and gave him a kiss on each cheek.

-"Looking forward to the entertainment! The ship looks great by the way. So where is this Sir Jacelyn of yours?"

Smiddich pointed to the young man. Delphine thanked him and made her way to Jacelyn. As she was walking she saw Nemean talking to a group of people. The natural social butterfly looked suave and confident as always. She clenched her fists and immediately beelined to her Marshal. Without hesitation or worry about who was around, she shoved the man hard on the chest and slapped him in the face.

-"NEMEAN JEVONDAIR RENODIN, HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME?! You could have at least had the balls to tell me yourself!"

With that, she turned around, grabbed a glass off a tray that was passing by and downed the liquid not caring what it was. She took a deep breath and continued on to her original destination as if nothing happened grabbing another drink on the way which she handed to Jacelyn before even speaking to him.

-"Sir Jacelyn, I am here to accompany you this evening, enjoy the complimentary drink."

Delphine smiled, blew a mesh of hair out of her face, and smiled some more.

Vorn

4/24/2020

"Its been so long since I've seen everyone. I hope I look okay." Isabel says to herself as she slowly approaches the dukes prized ship. Isabel worryingly pats down her white high-low dress her outfit accented with silver wrist bangles and her usual bear necklace is tucked away hidden from sight.

After making her way onto the ship. Isabel offers her gift to Duke Fontaine, "Lord Fontaine, Great Duke of the Glorious city of Perdan, I do not have much to offer in the ways of gifts so please accept this rare bottle of wine my cousin sent me from her vineyard in Brovyl on the continent of Belluatera. There are only seven bottles left in existence according to the letter I received with the bottle." After handing the gift over Isabel dissapears into the growing crowd.

MacArbin

4/25/2020

Kenneth and Dustiria strode onto the Wayfarer's Gambit in a fine mood. She was smiling, enjoying a night not on duty and out of armour. He was making good use of the fine clothes the Duke had gifted him previously, his short cape and crisp linen shirt looking elegant and restrained, complemented by only the heavy gold of his signet ring and the bronze circlet with a single ruby upon his brow signifying his Earldom.

They made their way to the line of guests to be greeted by the Duke, just in time to see Delphine's performance. Kenneth snorted in surprise, and then shook his head, laughing. He leaned in to murmur to Dustiria, one hand trying to even up the blue silk ribbons along her left hip.

"Oh, I like her already...Is that Delphine? I've corresponded, but outside of the crests and armour I hardly recognize most. Have to track her down..."

Dustiria's own snicker was somewhat extended, but she nodded, cheeks slightly red in the reflected firelight as she murmured back.

"Oh, yes, must investigate any trouble in the leadership, the Imperatrix would want to know."

As they made it to the Duke, Kenneth smiled and swept a deep bow with complete sincerity, while Dustiria grinned and went up to hug the man who had given both of them so much.

"It is good to see you again, my liege. I think you will enjoy our little performance later, given the matter we corresponded on earlier."

Kenneth did not give something so garish as a wink, but the corners of his eyes did crinkle a bit as his smile grew.

Dustiria finished her hug, and what she might have said Kenneth could not tell, but she was grinning still as she bounced back besides Kenneth and they made their way to join the party proper.

"Now, to find Viscountess Elinor and Lady Aila, I will need to talk with them, my love, and one other thing I could use your help with..."

Kingsley

4/25/2020

Alyssa inspected herself carefully in the looking glass, her soft white gown flowing down her body like white water. It felt much looser than the dresses she was used to, and the lack of sleeves made her feel a bit exposed compared to the more conservative dresses she typically wore, but at least her shoulders supported the gown nicely, while the skirt hung well from her hips and the soft light linen was comfortable. She felt light and watched the skirt ripple gently as she gave a little twirl before her mirror. It was a pretty thing, truly, she thought, hoping Isana would think the same.

She set her silver hairpin with the wolven charm into the simple braided chignon she had tied her hair into before she glanced at the wood box her aunt had sent her from her home in Bisciye. She had in some uncharacteristic excitement written to her uncle about having a partner to attend the Duke's event with and her aunt in a much less uncharacteristic excitement sent her what Alyssa could only imagine was her entire collection of jewelry. She took a deep breath and opened the box looking hopelessly through the rings and amulets her dear aunt had sent.

Most of it was somewhat old, heirlooms or simple tarnished pieces but she found one necklace that caught her eye, a light silver chain with a small emerald pendant. Her heart leaped, realizing it would be perfect as a gentle knock came to the door of her chambers in the Imperator's Tower. Quickly she fastened the amulet around her neck and tightened the silver sash around her waist as she rushed to the door.

She opened to find her morning light on the other side, her dashing knight, and the woman she cared for so deeply.

"'Sana-dear." She said softly, a gentle smile crossing her lips. "Are you ready darling?"

Everlight

4/25/2020

Isana buzzed around the grounds of the Redwood Tower, her page Cedric patiently trailing behind with a handful of ribbon and the occasional mournful, “But we still have to do your haaaair…”

Roses were so overdone, and a bouquet was perhaps outside of the roles they had chosen to take at the start of the evening, but she was not going to escort (well, sort-of kind-of escort) her darling lady to an event without some sort of flower.

Her long gown brushing the grass was a classic kirtle in green silk, so dark it was like midnight until the light caught it and it shone emerald, with skirts so wide that if she spun fast enough they’d make a full circle around her. Her petticoats showed in a fine border of white lace around the broad neckline and at the shoulders. Most of her arms were bare below the little lace cap sleeves. Overall it was probably the girliest thing she’d worn on this continent. It was also the furthest thing from armor she owned, and yet would still let her move unimpeded in a swordfight should anything at the party go terribly awry. She smirked a bit at this thought, and how well it went along with the uniquely juxtaposed setting of her life overall.

So far the only adornments she wore were the family heirloom sabre with its jewel-encrusted guard, and dangling from the sword belt her indulgent little leather pouch of candies with its tiny black wolf on the drawstring. Long opera gloves of the deep green silk were clutched in one hand.

She stopped abruptly and exhaled in triumph. “Alright Ced. I’ve found what I need.” She dropped gracefully to a seat on the grass. “Do your best, my dear, it’s going to be quite the night. And then I need you to fetch one more thing for me while I finish up.”

-- -- --

Isana straightened regally in front of the door and tucked a stray strand back behind her ear. Ced had done well, really; her hair was twisted up in several braids on top of her head and woven through with green, white, and black ribbons in a very intricate pattern. The black was almost hidden in her dark hair, but she hoped Aly would notice the nod to her own heraldry.

A deep breath, and she knocked on the door. It was answered heartbeats later by her stunning lady. The flowing white gown Alyssa wore made her look like the wind, Isana thought. She was transported back in memory to their first training match when Alyssa had worn a loose-sleeved linen shirt, and been the most graceful vision of poetry in motion she had ever seen.

"'Sana-dear." Alyssa said softly, a gentle smile crossing her lips. "Are you ready darling?"

Isana’s face spread into a wide smile as her heart thumped, and she had to take another breath to quiet the rushing in her ears. “Dearest,” she said breathlessly. “Ah, my Lady, I await your pleasure. And have brought a gift in honour of the evening…” she stepped aside to reveal a basin on the walk behind her. In it was planted an entire small shrub, a peony, its complex white blossoms shining delicately in the evening light. “For your garden here in Bescanon. A celebration of peaceful times to bring you joy each summer.”

She curtsied formally to Alyssa, then stood gallantly and offered a long-gloved hand for official attendant-style assistance (entirely unnecessary) down the front steps. “Ready when you are, Aly my love,” she said quietly, with a sidelong glance and a subtler, sweeter smile meant only for the resplendent woman with the courage of the wolf.

Kingsley

4/25/2020

Alyssa's eyes fell over her knightess as she gave a formal curtsy to her lady. Oh you are dashing, beautiful lady. She thought to herself as she admired her partner and her gown. The dress was not what she was typically used to seeing Isana wear, but she wore it so well, the afternoon light shining in from the corridor window catching the deep green silk giving her a soft emerald glow. She wondered how long it must have taken to do her hair, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious at her own simple hairstyle in comparison. The elaborate braids and ribbons of black, white and green intertwined together, much like their own lives had since the day they had met. She hmm'ed wistfully at the thought and took her partner's hand, drawing their fingers around each other, and holding her arm close to her chest.

Alyssa looked to the sprouting plant, its first buds beginning to sprout in the late spring weather. "It will be beautiful my darling. I know just the place for it, in perfect sight of my bedroom window, there is a lovely spot that will get plenty of sun. I will make sure it is well tended." She said with a confident nod. Her reply seemed to please her knight who wore an easy smile.

"Now." Alyssa continued. "A gift so thoughtful deserves gratitude and reward." She gave a playful smile and reached up touching Isana's cheek, before leaning in and kissing her, enjoying for a few seconds the closeness and warmth of her lips, hesitating slightly before breaking off, knowing they need be on their way. Her face became slightly more serious as she continued.

"Barring any stirs or controversies, that will not be the last time tonight I do that."

Stewart

4/25/2020

As Christopher's luck would have it, while the gala aboard the Duke's vessel was already in progress, he and some others were helping an ally takeover the region of Ar Mosul. And starving. When he volunteered for the mission, he thought Vix nobles would be in numbers, but only 4 of the 12 Vix nobles are present.

He looks out onto the field and decides that this must be fate talking to him. He was the very first "victim" of the Duke's during the tournament. When he drew the name and looked at the parchment, the air fell right out of him and he knew what would happen. He was no match for the older, but stronger Duke and it showed. Overcome with embarrassment, Christopher simply melted into the shadows from that point on. While he understood that training was few and far between for him, he put his name in the hat for Blade of the King and this venture set his path not toward that title, but far away from it.

The region of Ar Mosul was starving when he arrived a few days ago, and his men were beginning to succumb to hunger. While he didn't want his men to suffer, he wanted to suffer. What a spectacular end to a spectacular tournament failure, he thought. Oh, there would be ladies at the gala. Laughing and smiling at everyone. He would have to find a dark corner to push himself into if he would even attend. Of that, he knew.

So, at least for now, he would remain in Ar Mosul. And starve with the rest of his men. As fate would have it.

Renodin

4/25/2020

Nemean rode along the docklands enjoying the light breeze. The evening wind yet retained the warmth of the late day sun. The rhythm of the hooves on cobble and the freedom of simply riding without any attendants was soothing to him. The great ship of the Duke was already in sight and it promised an end to his reverie. A thousand little lights cast their glow over the mighty vessel. A sight straight out of a fairy tale or a dream actually, Nemean thought to himself.

Carriages rolled up and disgorged their precious cargo. The wealthy and powerful. Servants helped their masters. Some of whom were more graceful than others. As they made their way up the gangplank family names were called out. Titles went along with it and other honorifics of course. Riding up to the great gathering on the docks felt like riding into the kitchen of a great manor house. Meticulously choreographed with every carriage arriving exactly as they were ment to. Servants bustling about, luggage snaking onto the ship and with no end of officious custom dictating every move and gesture.

Tugging gently on the reins Nemean observed the neatly organized throng of Nobles and luminaries. The fine creature that bore his weight responded beautifully. Not balking in the slightest but rather adopted the equine equivalent of a saunter. Their obvious bond as a well practiced duo masked by the easy grace on display made it look exceptionally ordinary. The split coattails of Nemean's full length coat draping the steeds flanks.

In the end he decided to just ride straight through. Skipping into the line of carriages, drawing angry looks. One of the drivers was about to speak up but noting Nemean's attire, his entire demeanor really, silenced the man. Either that or Nemean' challenging look before the Prince looked away with obvious disinterest. Reaching the gangplank he dismounted. The lead butler cleared his throat. Sir, it wasn't your turn yet. Firm yet with a hint of apprehension. Full brows arched as Nemean beheld him while taking a small parcel from the saddle. Full grains only. He glanced at some of the other servants about. Treat him badly and I'll know. With that he pushed the reins into the lead butlers very hands. Hard green eyes sheltered behind long lashes as he flashed his Marshal's badge from under his coat. Neatly pinned to his chest. The Lions of House Renodin and JeVondair worked into the exquisite sable and gold brocade waistcoat. Without delay Nemean walked up the gangplank. Straightening his overcoat and rolling his shoulders. The twin tails dancing in the late day breeze. Except indignation a scent of Patchouli with its minty earthiness remained. Laced with the aromatic and sweet but woody undertone of Myrrh.

The breeze was stronger on deck. A tray was presented to him by a smartly dressed young man. Small savory treats, he took one and nodded his thanks. The young man inclined for a small bow and continued on his way. Cascading from somewhere above came gentle music. His eyes informed him of the trio of musicians that plucked away at their instruments. He smiled at them. The entire deck was a miracle. So well arranged and bathed in a mystical glow. He couldn't help but be impressed. The candles alone should've cost a fortune. And the food wasn't bad either he decided as he munched down on the bite sized snack. It would be proper to present himself to the host. Were was the Duke though? He placed about for a moment, exploring the main deck. Offering a nod here or a smile there as he recognized or was recognized. Then he finally noticed the steady stream of guests heading to the fore of the ship. It was there that he discovered the man himself. Magnanimous as a vinter welcoming curious guests to his chateau. Grand gestures made at every guest. In particular he noted how Sir Jacelyn exchanged a few words with the Lord of Perdan City. It didn't escape him how one of the young Knight's sleeves was without an arm. He'd have to comment on that later in the evening, making a mental note of it in the process.

Renodin

4/25/2020

Standing at the periphery he simply watched the proceedings. It was probably better to present himself to the duke a bit later. When there was less of a rush. His dark blond hair swayed with the breeze. Marshal?.. How are you my good man?! A friendly and wrinkled face called out to him. Turning to see who it was he was quickly introduced to the elderly man's family. Wife and two daughters. An old relation from his father he learned quickly enough. He entertained the old man, a lower noble but exceedingly wealthy regardless. His eyes stealing glances at the duke and how he was getting on. It was then that he saw Lady Delphine. Her blue raven hair like a rare orchid over the verdant dress she wore.

He had rarely seen the woman in anything but a military setting. Even though she was his Vice Marshal. It made him look twice, and even thrice. One of the daughters made a noise with her throat which recalled his long lashed eyes to her presence. Moments passed and it was in reality a very pleasant conversation. He was about to respond to a question. Small hands found his chest. A fierce strength belied their size as they forced him back with intent. Turning and bracing was all he could do not to fall down. Pain, bright and flashing. His eyes started shut as he felt soft, hard and then sharp impact the side of his face. Where those nails? The thought skitted through his mind but he couldn't dwell on it. The muscles in his neck protested as his head jerked to the side. He held it there for a moment before crumpled eyelids slowly opened and eyes stared at the polished deck.

-"NEMEAN JEVONDAIR RENODIN, HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME?! You could have at least had the balls to tell me yourself!"

With that, she turned around, grabbed a glass off a tray that was passing by and downed the liquid not caring what it was. She took a deep breath and continued on to her original destination as if nothing happened grabbing another drink on the way which she handed to Jacelyn before even speaking to him. ~Delphine de Montigny

Slowly turning his face to put his face back, straight on his shoulders, Nemean gingerly touched his cheek. It blossomed with heat. Touching it hurt. He could've told himself that before doing it anyway. He frowned, mostly to himself. Casting his eyes in the general direction of Delphine, questions dawned. Broiling until all that remained was a very plain to see, confusion. The younger of the two daughters literally pinched the bottom of her arm as she tightly hugged her tummy. It was all she could do from keeping herself roaring out with laughter. A great devilish grin painted on her lovely face. The older one was genuinely shocked much like her mother was. Becoming acutely aware of the social predicament Nemean apologized to the father. His stride deliberate, tenseness locked in unending war as the swordsman in him all but flowed through the crowd in pursuit of Delphine. Intend on challenging her, his mind raced but his face showed no trace of clarity whatsoever. Only the mark where her hand had been but a moment ago.

V'Orlan

4/25/2020

Ser Rogos V'Orlan was in an uncharacteristically sombre and stylish outfit, pitch dark linen trousers and a crimson velvet doublet trimmed in gold, with a matching sash tied about his waist. His fashion sense wasn't abysmal, but it was clear someone else had a hand in choosing his dressing this evening, reminiscent of Nemean's handiwork at the Wintergreen Festival. A chased gold lion's head brooch holding his black woollen cloak in place marked him as a senior officer in the Golden Lions and the silver wreath surrounding it named him as Vice Marshal. His short campaign beard was scented with rose oil and his hair recently trimmed for the soiree. The dock at which the Wayfarer's Gambit was moored was alive with movement, many guests had already arrived.

Fashionably late is more my style anyways.

No sword was strapped to his hip, but he knew if any brawls broke out, even amongst the nobility he'd be more than able to break it up, having a solid hundred pounds on most of the attendees. Though if they were of a higher station it might not be wise.

"Are you okay Rogos?"

"Hm? Oh... yes. Just thinking about what I need to say to his Grace before we join the event." he lied, but turned his attention back to his guest and smiled at his concern.

Rogos' companion was almost the polar opposite of the half-giant of a man. 5’5”, with a face that might suggest elven blood, clean shaven and hair in an Obeahian topknot, he was attired in slim and elegantly embroidered cloth-of-silver robes, a glittering amber cameo of the Rampant Lion of Perdan held a similar silver half-cape to his person. The torchlight caused the argent outfit to gleam like polished plate steel, and he was as comfortable as they approached the Wayfarer as Rogos felt on the field of battle. At the Vice Marshal's direction, they cut the line as they were entitled to do with himself as nobility, meeting the Duke on the wide gangplank that had likely been procured explicitly for this event.

"Your Grace. Permission to come aboard?" Rogos bowed, as did his companion. "It's good to see you in your natural habitat my lord," he laughed, gesturing to the harbour. "Though I feel there isn't as much smoke or fire as you're accustomed to. Your Grace, this is my... companion... Alexander Southerland, of the Whiterock Merchant Consortium in Aix. Alexander, Duke Smiddich Fontaine of Perdan City, better known to some as the Black Bladed Duke."

Alexander bowed deeply, "Your Grace, it is an honor to enjoy this night with the esteemable nobles of the City of Lions, and on such a swift and famed vessel at that."

"To reciprocate your invitation, I brought a few tokens of history I felt you might appreciate." Rogos added, and removed two items from the sash about his waist to present them to the Duke. "The first is a scrimshawed whale's tooth, marked as you can see with a portrait of Your Grace on one side, and a depiction of the Wayfarer's Gambit in the Battle of Hamadan. Hand crafted by an ancient whaler from the Obsidian Isles, rumoured to instil helpful magicks into every piece his hands have wrought.” He released it into the Pirate Duke’s care, “And the second, is an unusual silver bar weighing three marks, recovered from a sunken ship in the deep water harbour of the Dead City of Westria. The entire face is marked with three odd runes, likely assay marks. It may be the oldest thing you have now that’s come off a shipwreck at five or six centuries old.” Rogos beamed, clearly pleased with himself. He spoke with the Duke for a moment, but the pleasant atmosphere of the naval ball was soon broken.

V'Orlan

4/25/2020

"NEMEAN JEVONDAIR RENODIN, HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

Rogos almost burst into tears and rolled his eyes, half in laughter, half in emotional exhaustion. It was always Nemean sitting nestled into the heart of every commotion or wave of rumours that rippled through crowds of power that Rogos heard. He grimaced, and made a short bow, “By your leave, Your Grace. Alexander I am so sorry, I’ll be back in a moment. I’ll- You know what to do?” His face was etched with regret as he abandoned his guest to the relative strangers aboard the Wayfarer.

Despite his bulk, the knight navigated the streams of people like a salmon swimming upriver, by sheer displacement, trying to hone in on his comrade-in-arms as the crowd parted before him. He caught Nemean within arm’s reach of Lady Delphine broadsiding him with a bear-hug that dragged him to the gunwale.

“Steady! Steady there your Highness… It’s good to see you again Nemean, but…” He recoiled at the sight of the red mark on the Prince’s cheek. There was a moment of pause as the gears in his head added two and two together, “What did you do to her?” He asked at a loud whisper, somewhat incredulously. Rogos glanced over his shoulder, keeping one hand on Nemean’s after having released him from his immobilising embrace. “Did you remove her as your Vice?”

Once again, the Knight of Perdan Mines was utterly confused by the mire Prince Nemean appeared to have gotten himself into.

Chamberlain

4/25/2020

The Maunts had been aflutter at the prospect of her attendance at such a grand affair, presenting various gowns that they assured her would show off the assets that she as yet did not possess. She quickly set aside the vibrant and brocaded gowns choosing a lightweight black gown that gave but the slightest nod to her family history with a subtle gilded ribbon brocade depicting the crowned sun, he grandmothers personal Crest. The Young Mother of Dale was disappointed.

"That will do nothing for your decoletage Lori."

Lorelai blushed, she wasnt sure what a decoletage was but it sounded a little seedy, particularly given the way the Maunts face creased as she winked at her. She pulled the dress on allowing it to settle over her frame. She at once felt exposed by the lightness of the fabric and constrained by the volume of the skirt. The Young Mother smiled at her discomfiture, running her plump fingers across the shoulders."Let me help Lori," she soothed. Lorelai dropped her arms allowing the dress to hang. The Maunt picked across the back of the garment finding the laces of panelled corsetry. As she pulled the laces the fitted panels felt more akin to the leathers she wore in the field. As she looked in the mirror she was shocked to see her body shaping in a manner much more akin to femininity than she had seen in... well than she had ever seen.

The Maunt sprayed the scent of cherry blossoms from a gilded defuser. The Maunt guided her to the looking glass. It was one of her most expensive luxuries with but a few minor distortions at the corners. She looked at herself in shock, her curling dark hair had been teased to fall prettily past her shoulders. The pearl headed pins brief hilights in the curling tresses. The corsetry had accentuated curves she did not feel old enough to have developed even managing to give the impression of cleavage, her necklace a simple band with a simple pearl drop seemed to accentuate this further. She stepped back pleased with the effect. She would be a crow on a ship of peacocks, nobody would notice her, but if they did, at least she would look presentable.

Chamberlain

4/25/2020

She arrived late enough that she hoped most of the others would be merry with carousing. Gratefully she managed to slip behind Sir Rogos as he walked along the gang plank. His large frame allowed her to slip she hoped unseen behind him, to board the vessel. She grabbed a drink and sought a dark corner from which she hoped to be a wall flower for the night.

Storme

4/25/2020

She had left her rented room alone, leaving her servants to a night off as she took the opportunity to take a short ride on her destrier. A huge black beast of a stallion stripped of its Caparison made it's way through the streets of people ending their days business and returning home, it's passenger using the time to prepare herself for the night. By the time she arrived, there was a line- litters, carriages, covered in gold and bursting with silks from ladies dresses. Amongst them she held her usual unapproachable serious look as others observed her, then thought better of bothering her and left.

The black coat of her horse matched the black of her skirts, layered to reveal a rich blue Azure fabric fringe that spilled out beneath the skirt of her surcoat and down the arms of long bell-style sleeves. In all the dress was modest with a neckline that could only be described as proper and in style that was common enough that the falcon standing at attention on Aila's left side, it's head resting at her hip and it's body extending all the way to the end of the black surcoat drew the eye first. She tried to find her power in that charge on the crest of her house. The same falcon sat on watch at her throat, another on a wrist in the form of a thin silver bracelet. Her hair had been gathered up at the back, and housed the fourth and final falcon that unlike the others was mid flight at the top of the cascade of loose yellow curls that fell over her shoulder. Her father had good taste- she realized as the other nobles looked her over. It was a black dress, and plain in style but it was the details in it that made it something special. It dripped with family pride, and as head of house Storme it just felt right to her.

Basking in her pride was short lived, she recognized someone- which was both exciting and terrifying and mainly exciting as he did her the favor or marching right past- right past everyone in fact. Nemean in his gilded glory seemed utterly unaware of the ladies leaning out of the carriages to get a better look as he came and went. Some angry rumbles from the men got completely ignored as the Marshal went ahead of everyone- but who would have the nerve to do something about it? No one, it turned out.

A groomsman came to help her off her horse, informing her that her "turn" was coming soon. He knelt on the cobbles to offer her a step down on his thigh but quickly got out of her way as Aila hopped off her horse beside him, flicking skirts in his face unintentionally. He simply smiled at her when she ducked under the reins and passed them back behind herself for him to take away.

Aila waited her turn to approach, throwing the herald for a loop as she arrived alone telling him "Aila Storme" as she passed him the invite. It was then she saw the man who had caught so much of her attention she even bothered to come to the event, the Duke. He's old, she realized- not letting the shock of the realization show on her face- but it seemed as it was finally her time to meet the host a loud clap spun everyone's head toward-Nemean and a woman who to Aila was a stranger.

All manner of thoughts raced through Ailas mind- did he make a move? Was Nemean a pervert? Did he insult her family? Did he slay her brother? As the seconds ticked on she thought of more and more dramatic possibility's. A man raced to Nemean's aid and Aila looked away instantly- pretending she saw nothing as a smartly dressed servant slid a cup of something sparkling and alcoholic in her hand. "I should've brought a man like you" she told him, winning a shy smile as he carried on work.

Goldwater

4/25/2020

Jacelyn, still shocked and amused, turned to face lady Delphine. "There is only a handful of knights in this realm, daring enough to hit that man. I guess this will be a wonderful evening." Still giggling, Jacelyn introduced himself "Jacelyn Goldwater, my lady. It is truly a pleasure to meet you, and it will surely be a pleasure to spend time in your company." Jacelyn quickly drank the drink, returning the glass to a nearby servant. After a brief look behind her, he then offerered his only hand to lady Delphine "Would you mind accompanying me to the fore deck? Judging from prince Nemean´s face, it could get pretty rough down here. And I am strongly against losing such a beautiful companion."

Kingsley

4/25/2020

Alyssa and her knight approached the ship on the dockside, her flowing gown of white linen rippling as they walked, Alyssa a step ahead. She frowned as they approached the Wayfairer's Gambit. Dozens of guests stood on the dockside awaiting admittance, far more than Alyssa expected. There were a few she recognized, but most she didn't, many of them were city officials or lowly nobles vying for an opportunity. It had been some time since she had been to the capital, and she sighed in acknowledgement of the likelihood she would be spending far more of this evening than she'd like shaking hands and sharing platitudes with strangers. She adjusted the silver sash around her waist and then idly thumbed the simple emerald pendant she wore around her neck as she glanced over to her companion.

Isana, she realized, was likely the only person among the crowd with a sword. The emerald-set sabre at her hip sparkled as the moonlight and lanternlight struck it, the blade a somber reminder of duty among a crowd anxious for merriment. The rest of the knight's appearance however matched the surroundings. The deep green silk kirtle on her dress gave off a soft emerald glow in the moonlight; despite the formality of wide skirt, silk and white lace of her petticoat, the dress seemed actually fairly practical. While she knew Isana did not typically wear dresses, especially ones not so formal as the one she wore tonight, the knightess moved with ease, not hampered in the slightest by her formal attire, it seemed she was taking the role of protector tonight seriously despite the circumstances, and appearing as any other guest, in fancy groom and dress. The knight's long black hair was tied into elaborate braids interwoven with ribbons of green, white, and black. In comparison, Alyssa's own hair while well prepared was in a neatly tied, but simple braided chignon.

Isana scanned the docks for a way through the crowd, but was rescued from this task as one of the butlers greeting the guests as they boarded the gangplank caught Alyssa's eyes.

"Lady Imperatrix!" He called out, recognizing her, though she did not know him. "Right this way, ye shall not wait my lady, such an important figure as ye!" Alyssa shared a glance with Isana as the crowd parted at the butler's behest, Isana following closely. The butler beckoned Alyssa board the gangplank with a respectful bow.

"Master butler," Alyssa said perhaps a bit stiffly before looking to Isana. "Dame Isana Everlight, will be boarding alongside me, should it please the duke. She is my personal protection this evening."

The butler glanced at the saber at Isana's hip and nodded. Seemingly familiar with Alyssa's position he nodded. "Of course, the Lady Everlight was extended an invitation after all." Still looking towards the blade he continued "Though I doubt she will need it, the king's order for your protection is wise and should be followed. Please enjoy the evening, my ladies. Lady Noire has already arrived"

Alyssa gave him an uncertain look. "You are a well-informed butler." She noted, a hint of concern in her voice.

He grinned at that. "I am here to serve his grace's guests. It is critical I know who people are so that I may better do that."

As the two boarded the plank and crossed to the deck of the ship, Alyssa gave her knight an uncertain look, and a glance back at the butler who had turned his attention to another guest. When they had crossed, Isana held out a long-gloved hand for support as Alyssa minded the step from the plank to the ship's deck, which Alyssa accepted gratefully as she boarded.

With another sigh as she glanced around huge deck lit by the warm glow of lanterns and the soft glow of the moon, scores of guests mingling and laughing as musicians played an easy, inviting tune. She turned to her companion and flashed a momentary reassured smile, standing nearly at attention. "Here we are. It... looks like a third of the realm is here." She noted still glancing around at the large crowd on the ship's deck, some mingling, some watching and applauding the various performers, others enjoying a drink. "What should we do first? Duke Smiddich will be expecting us to greet him, though he may be busy at the moment. And if Dustiria is here, I am sure she would be happy to see that I do indeed have a warrior at my side."

While she spoke, her attention was focused on her knight and her blue-green eyes, and not on heavy footsteps of the figure storming across the deck in her direction.

Pryde

4/25/2020

Benjamin walked around the gala, listening to the murmurs and the shouts. Keeping track of the rumors and whispers that were most interesting.

His two ever present companions moved in his shadow with a grace that few could match in these southern lands, trying to hide their grimaces at the antics of the people around them.

Benjamin finally took pity on his friends and retired to a quiet nook.

His companions released relieved breaths as they relaxed into the secluded space. Not that most would have noticed. They looked nearly as calm and cool as usual, but he knew them too well for them to hide their thoughts from him. This gala was truly outside their comfort zone.

He once again wondered how their people had built a coalition that destroyed the orcs and driven the dwarves into the south. They looked like all they wanted to do was slink away and fade into the nearest treeline. Not that he blamed them. This gala was a bit noisy. And busy. And dramatic.

Benjamin stopped himself as an unbidden thought came to mind. He agreed with them. He'd once enjoyed these parties. The striving and diplomacy and drama as nobles flitted around each other in social feeding circles. Flirting with the pretty ladies. Now he wanted to join them in the darkness out beyond the city walls. The place where at least the boar that wanted to kill you was honest about his intentions.

His companions saw that realization in his eyes and smiled.

Benjamin shook his head. All these years, since they'd met in Oligarch, he'd been thinking he was teaching them to be comfortable in his world. Now he found out they'd been teaching him to love their world. Their treachery had no limits. Well. They would pay for their dastardly betrayal of his innocent nature. Any minute now.

Any minute...Benjamin smiled as the smell of deep fried chicken hit is nose. Now.

His companions wrinkled their noses in distaste. They disliked eating meat as a rule. And deep fat frying it was just cruel and unusual punishment to the noble animals of the forest they partook of only on special occasions. Not that there was anything noble about a chicken. But, there was the principle of the matter.

Benjamin took positive delight in violating their principles in this matter, and stepped back into the gala to see the carts holding the buckets of fried chicken. He managed to acquire a pair of legs and a plump breast before returning to their alcove. He gallantly offered them a bite, guileless eyes showing them the deep respect he showed to them in making that offer from his own noble plate.

They tried not to shudder in revulsion at the food, and Benjamin blithely and innocently tore into the juicy chicken breast with his teeth.

Oh yes. They would pay for their dastardly betrayal of his innocent nature, one juicy, dripping, greasy bite at a time.

Peregrine

4/25/2020

The king arrived at the gala flanked only by a young servant who carried Midnight the royal pet. Kay was all in black brocade with gold and silver threads, robe furred with ermine. The crown rested on his head and it was his only visible jewelry for the evening, of course except for the large milky moonstone that was installed in his empty eye socket. It has been a while since Kay mingled with his court and those who knew him well could notice that the last year was not kind to him. His once powerful frame now seemed frail, his skin was pale and sickly, his shoulder-length hair grew almost entirely gray by now. He was not an old man and he did not look as much old as really worn out. It seemed like he was slowly withering away.

Midnight on the other hand looked great. She was no longer a kitten but a young graceful cat, apparently with impeccable manners and agreeable temperament. Once Kay was seated, the cat was placed in his lap and his hand habitually stroked her black fur. He kept a soft smile on his face and gracefully greeted each noble who would approach him. But he also seemed aloof and not entirely there.

It was of course polite to approach and greet the host, but Kay was the king and thus expected the magnificent Duke to come and greet him instead. In the meantime, he watched the guests from his dais, especially curious about the younger knights and dames most of which he did not yet know by name. He did not touch any refreshments, nor beverages. But he did feed a few morsels to his companion.

Belmont

4/25/2020

The ship was immaculate compared to the last time Salem had seen it. He saw from a distance everyone who had shown up, and could even see the Duke greeting his esteemed guests. Salem wore comfortable black pants with white pinstripes. His pants were bloused into his calf-high, leather boots that reflected the moonlight from their shined surface. A simple, white shirt with long sleeves and a collar covered his torso but was covered by a black vest with golden trims and accents. Over the vest was a thick coat with long sleeves that ended with gold-trimmed cuffs, and even further covering the coat was a cloak that flowed down his back. It was two-toned. Black on the outside, and royal purple on the inside. His hands are covered in thick, leather gloves. The most drastic part of Salem's new look was his haircut. The mane was gone, cut down short, and close to his head. His new haircut was accompanied by short stubble that covered his jaw and over his lip. He kept a ornate sword on his hip but a sharpened dagger hidden by his coat.

On his arm with his little sister, Reno. She wore a white wig that was designed to have a bob with swept bangs. A small, black top hat was pinned to the wig and sported a red, silk ribbon that was tied in a bow. She wears a white, short-sleeved shirt and black, leather pants that are bloused into her knee-high leather boots. A black corset with white trim makes the thin girl look even thinner. A black wool cloak wraps around her shoulders and falls down her back. She wears leather gloves and carries a dagger on her hip.

The two walk across the gangplank with each other and give Duke Smiddich and polite hello, thanking him for inviting them to the Gala. He walks Reno to the bow of the ship to speak with her somewhere private.

"No stealing. No murder. and no getting so drunk that your tiny hat falls off."

"Damn...There go my party tricks."

Salem sighs as his head drops. "Ugh...Reno, damnit. Look, this is an important night for me, okay. I need to..." He snickers "...I need to..." He can't keep a straight face.

"Whatcha need to doooo Saaaaalem?"

"Shut up. Look, we both know that we're only here to pass a goat horn and destroy anyone dumb enough to join us at a poker table. But we have to look proper. I'm a knight after all. And this outfit was expensive."

"What about all the mead? Aren't we supposed to watch it?"

"There's a guy for that. All we need to do is take people's money while simultaneously holding up a horn of mead...Because they don't get set down very nicely...Our arms are going to get tired."

"We should just get mugs."

"Yeah, let's get mugs."

The two set up at a table with a deck of cards and a bag of gold. Their mugs are filled with Mountain Berry Sour, and their faces are super serious-ish. Salem shuffles the deck while his sister counts coins.

De Montigny

4/25/2020

Delphine took Jacelyns hand, it was after all the reason she was there. In a calm pleasant voice she replied.

"He does not impress me." She knew that was false, he had taught her so much, she looked up to Nemean as a friend and mentor, or at least she did until receiving that letter from the king. "He had it coming to him, he needs a good woman to keep him in his place." She glanced at the Imperatrix that was nearby. A strong woman she admired for her skills in battle and one that she knew her Marshal admired for more. Now in a sterner voice, but keeping a nice smile "And if you speak of him again this evening, you will have two arms to worry about. Now let's enjoy the evening." She pulled at the clasped hand as she lead the way, hastily leaving the area but slowing down after a few steps, she was here to enjoy herself and would not let the early events dictate the tone for the rest of the evening.

As they walked to the fore, Delphine continued to smile politely at everyone that would stare and whisper. She knew what they were thinking, but the truth is no one really knew what is was all about. She didn't care really, she had gone from being a merchants daughter to leading one of the continents greatest armies and even given the charge of rebuilding the beautiful region of Mulhouse. She was not the girl she once was and knew that to get things done, she had to take matters in her own hands, and that was exactly what she was doing.

It was time to make small talk. "So, rumor has it that you went jousting without any armor? Why on earth would you think that was a good idea? Were you trying to get yourself killed?" She though to herself, ok, so maybe that wasn't the best of openers, but she couldn't help but laugh at such dumb decisions. She garbed another drink passing by in one hand with a piece of meat with the other. She completely forgot about her date for a moment, but he had to earn more "touch time" anyways. And besides, she was starving.

Everlight

4/26/2020

Isana smiled broadly, delighted by the sights and sounds of the impressive ship all around, the music drifting perfectly from the foc'sle, and her company. She was glad that she had tied her heirloom sabre with a peace-bond knot of ribbons matching her hair, especially after the attention it had garnered at the entrance. It was intended as a symbolic ornament this evening, though it could also be functional, despite its emerald-glittered appearance. Her attention was pulled back to Alyssa, whose steel blue eyes sparkled in the light of the many lamps as she spoke. Isana nodded, standing beside her at casual attention.

"A third of the realm, more I think! There are knights here I've not met. As to where to go..."

Isana scanned the crowd for familiar faces. She spotted a bright-cheeked Lady Dustiria making a beeline across the ship's deck with the amused Sir Kenneth in her wake. Duke Smiddich was easy to find for the queue of folk waiting to greet him. A few other familiar faces were about as well; it looked like Sir Salem was setting up to play some cards, and Sir Nemean was speaking intently with someone whose back was to her.

"It looks like Lady Dusty is on a mission right now, see her just there? I suppose it is proper to recognize our merry host first anyway, my lady," she said, looking back to Alyssa. "It might be quite a wait. Oh, but I know what will make the queue shorter."

She raised a hand, and a nearby Fontaine staffer in smart black with silver insignia appeared at her elbow with a laden tray. Isana nodded in thanks and picked up two goblets.

"A drink while we queue, dear lady?" she offered with another bright smile, obviously quite pleased with the whole evening already.

Goldwater

4/26/2020

"Ah, the joust. Many questions come to people's minds when they think of it - Why did I joust without any armor? Why did I continue to the second round, when my shield was already broken?" Jacelyn shook his head, whilst grabbing some fried chicken "I was tired. All this judging, with everyone around me, including you I believe, judging my worth and motivation. I just wanted to end it, right there. One way or another." he grinned as he thought of the last moments "And it certainly did leave an impression. Don't you think?"

"But let's change topic. It would not be good, if I just kept speaking about myself. How is Mulhouse looking? I remember it as a region almost fallen apart, as we claimed it back. I am certain that under your rule, the region must be improving really fast."

Renodin

4/26/2020

People stepped aside. The crowd gave way and all of their faces were a blur. Miraculously he hadn't knocked anyone over and neither harmed their drinks in anyway. The pain drove his purpose but in honesty there were stronger forces that moved him now. One particular fat man, balding and in possession of at least three chins forced him to all but dance past. A move that drew attention and he knew it as the eyes of at least two dozen people were following his every move. Not realizing they and more had been upon him, for far longer than the moment he himself realized. Sir Jacelyn looked at him. The man stood next to Delphine, sharing a drink. On the onset of his challenge, he drew himself to the fullness of his height. The brocade glimmering in the candlelight. Words were tumbling over each other in his head. Whatever words might've gushed, spilling from a source of concern and indignation, they had no chance.

Leafs are stolen from their homes upon the branches of trees, during autumn. A strong gust of wind the thief. That's how it felt. Where he usually felt competent and strong, his arms were without power. His feet hardly touched the deck. He saw Delphine, she was right there. She pulled Jacelyn along, out of sight.

He caught Nemean within arm’s reach of Lady Delphine broadsiding him with a bear-hug that dragged him to the gunwale.

“Steady! Steady there your Highness… It’s good to see you again Nemean, but…” He recoiled at the sight of the red mark on the Prince’s cheek. There was a moment of pause as the gears in his head added two and two together, “What did you do to her?” He asked at a loud whisper, somewhat incredulously. Rogos glanced over his shoulder, keeping one hand on Nemean’s after having released him from his immobilizing embrace. “Did you remove her as your Vice?” ~Rogos V'Orlan

Something told him it was Rogos. The depths of his mind had whispered it. Few could've all but pick him up so easily. Unconsciously flexing in an attempt to resist told the rest of the story he didn't actively acknowledge. Not until he he was released. His back to the black waves of the ocean below. I wasn't going to.. Nemean looked at his brother in arm. His eyes still devoid of understanding but they tried to spot Delphine in the crowd. The other questions came but he didn't answer them right away. Rather he pushed Rogos's bearclaw of a hand off his shoulder. Do you mind? He shook his overcoat and straightened it. Glancing at his friend he continued. No, of course not. I didn't do anything to her. He paused and tried gauge Rogos' reaction. I have no clue what this is about. Why do you think I went over to her? A hint of anger laced his words and it was more obvious than he'd liked. A deep breath and then another later. His cheek stung. It made him frown. It also reminded him of his purpose before being waylaid. She's gone now, thanks. He instantly regretted the barb. He sighed. That was beneath me. I apologize. Gratitude crept into his eyes. Thank you, for.. He made a sweeping motion with his arm. ..-this..

The crowds gathered and mingled. It was a real jungle of fashion, gossip and high society. A place one could easily hide and Nemean looked at it. one hand on his side. Not spotting a single sign of either Delphine or Jacelyn. His other hand swatted some invisible thing in the air. I saw you que for the Duke. There was someone with you. Probably should get back to them, must be your turn soon. It was then that an alabaster dress stood out to him. His mind still worked on Delphine. He'd only make the situation worse he figured if he went searching like a madman. The ivory tinted dress waved at him from the periphery of his vision. Then he realized why it did. Seeing Alyssa hover at the edge of conversation. He sighed a deep and markedly frustrated sigh. Keep the Duke busy please, I don't need him having more reasons to cut me up. He prepared himself mentally for what might come. I have to try to do some damage control. Green eyes looked at his brother knowing the answer before it was given.

Renodin

4/26/2020

The looks didn't bother him too much. People always looked. It was the walk that was it for him. As he got closer to where Alyssa stood in her heavenly cloud come to earth, his expression formed. Shaping in an attempt to appear more regal. The beautiful dress framed her features and added nothing it needn't do. He saw Isana carry a blade, an unusual accessory he thought. The two were exchanging words. He drew up to them and offered a small bow. Dame Isana, Imperatrix Alyssa. His eyes briefly lingered on either woman as he said their names. They went back to Isana however. Your presence brightens the night.. he glanced at the blade she carried. ..and brings an edge to the excitement surely to follow. Not explaining further he turned to Alyssa. Could we speak? The statement immediately felt weighted to him. He puffed his cheeks slightly before blowing out the air and continuing. I don't mean, I mean.. I want you to know. His lips tightened for a moment as he stopped himself. You're going to take this the wrong way. I already know. His hand had begun to rise as a means to empower his words.

Delphine slapped me. Saying it made him feel like a bloody clown. Seeking understanding in the blue orbs that were her eyes he spoke more. I, don't know why. But I don't want you to hear it from someone else. And whatever else you'll do or think. Glancing over at Isana he wondered if he should add anything else. He decided he should, but not before lowing his hand. Seeing Alyssa tense up at the gesture. I am going to fix this, but I need you to know that I am not in the wrong. She stormed off and Rogos tackled me, I've no clue where she is. Chances are she is headed for Smiddich or worse, Kay. His emerald eyes transfixed on hers. Trying to covey a message without the use of words. That's where I am headed now. Whatever transpired between us, I could really use the help.

Unconscious of the fact he had offered her his hand or was he kinda pointing at her? Whatever it was, Nemean waited a moment for her to make up her mind. His body already in the process of wanting to turn. Once more onto the breach or to that effect. The story of Nemean's life.

Lancaster

4/26/2020

"Is it ready yet?" The Wolf King asked, voice strained yet steady. He was surrounded by his guard and draped in a large cloak. He had lost weight since last the shipwright saw him, but the builder had heard that the King was recently recovering from a dangerous fever. Alain the Wolf King stood straight and steady, and while his face and complexion told the tale of his recent illness, his bearing and manner were as rigor as the shipwright remembered from some weeks back.

"Yes, your grace," Barnabas the shipwright answered, bowing slightly. He was one of the White Fallan, meaning one of their people who still respected the will and order of the Wolf King. The Red Fallan, on the other hand, had sided with the traitorous Duke of Isadril and fought under the Perleone banner these days. Though he was usually far from the war directly, he still keenly followed the news with regards to Isadril.

"Show me," the King replied, gesturing to the large shape hidden under the tarp.

Barnabas smiled in spite of himself and gripped the sheet tightly. One of his apprentices grabbed the other end, and together they pulled back on the enormous canvas.

The glare forced all those in attendance to shield their eyes in the midday sun. Once adjusted, they took in the fruits of Barnabas' labor. The figurehead was larger than the Wolf King had first imagined, three men across and twice that long. It pictured a winged stag, with a crown of antlers high ahead and pointing outwards. The wings rose up and back, designed to fit the angle of a bow of a ship. The figurehead itself was made of hard iron, but painted and adorned in gold and silver, with clear etchings throughout. The face of the stag was fearsome, but Alain felt that he could see a touch of merriment to the creature, as if it was curious to see what would come next. It had taken Barnabas, and his chosen artisans, some time to plan and craft the figurehead for the Wayfarer, but the Wolf King felt that their time was well spent.

The Wolf King ran his hand along the antlers of the figurehead, marveling at their sharpness. "You've done well, Barnabas. I have never seen such a wondrous making at the head of a ship."

Barnabas basked in the King's praise. "You had very certain instructions, your grace. It was simply my task to see it done."

"It is tremendous," the King said, before looking up at Barnabas directly. "What you could have done in the shipyards of Isadril," Alain began, then trailing off in thought.

"Soon, your grace," he replied. "Then I shall build you a ship that will make the Duke of Perdan envious."

Alain laughed, for the first time in what felt like weeks or even months. Although he could not attend the Duke's grand party, he thought it rude not to reply with some sort of gesture. And given the Duke's reputation, Alain decided that an adornment to Smiddich's prized vessel would be appropriate. He knew that Barnabas would come through, having seen the shipwright's work before leaving Isadril behind in the betrayal. Still, now would come the hard part.

"Captain Dietmar," the King spoke, turning towards his captain of the guard. "See that a sizable escort is put together under the proper colors to take this to Perdan City. They are to travel along the Caligus lines as long as they can before getting close to Vix Tiramora and Perdan. Perleone is to be avoided at all costs."

The captain, a scarred bear of a man, simply nodded in reply. Dietmar had served the King since he was still High General of Fallangard. The Wolf King's word was absolute, and nothing more needed to be said.

"Barnabas, package your fine work as best you can for the journey," Alain ordered.

"At once, your grace," the shipwright replied, then signaled to his apprentices to begin the work.

Alain turned and walked away from the massive figurehead, which was now being covered again. Although he wished he could attend the celebration personally, there was far too much to attend to here in the kingdom. His new Warmaster had taken to the role with enthusiasm and Perleone was on the run, but he knew it would only be a matter of time. He had to get his strength back, and speak to several other rulers of the continent before the day was out. Still, he would ensure he found time to pen a letter to the Duke of Perdan City, explaining the gift and his absence. Perhaps Alain would be able to enjoy the next party, and it would be on his boat in Isadril.

Chamberlain

4/26/2020

Her mouth was dry with nerves but she didn't dare chance the various drinks being proffered, the Marshal had all but told her to come and having watched the Lady of Mulhouse raise her hand to him and then his beeline for the Imepratrix, she began to wonder both why she had agreed and what she had been hoping for. She chewed her lip scanning the room.

A sigil caught her eye, something she had grown used to in her Grandmothers bower, but was rarely seen in these... different days. Pushing herself forward from the wall she took a small goblet of what she hoped was wine from a passing server, took little more than a sip and crossed the deck to a man old enough to be the grandfather she no longer had. He looked up at her approach, keen intelligent eyes that danced with a youth belieing his age and stature.

"I can only assume Lord Pryde?" She extended her hand to the man: "It is so rare to see the sigils of First Oligarch these days, it is a place I heard so much of but never saw with my own eyes, though technically I am told I am Princess of Oligarch," she laughed a little nervously. "My apologies Lord Pryde, I forget myself. I am Lorelai Chamberlain of Aix, grand daughter of Catherine of Oligarch..."

Pryde

4/26/2020

Benjamin wondered at the young lady who approached him. He recognized her from nowhere, but quickly handed his food over to one of his companions to take care of while he gave her his undivided attention.

Well. Not entirely undivided. He did note his companion's grimace at being handed a plate of deep fried chicken with perhaps a bit more glee than he should feel.

But then he listened carefully as she spoke of First Oligarch. Many people spoke of that lost realm, though fewer did so as the years went by. Even Benjamin rarely used that name anymore, most often calling it Free Oligarch, to differentiate it when it stood tall and independent rather than its current status as a Sirion vassal once again. Still, it was good to hear the name off the lips of others, but he did not recognize this young woman. Which was a problem. He really should be able to recognize anyone calling themselves a Princess of First Oligarch. And this young lady was far too young to have lived in that city when it was free. Then she introduced herself fully, and the confusion lifted from his mind. And his eyes as well.

"Ah...Catherine. I remember her well. She was...a powerful woman. Though it has been a long time since I have heard her name. Do you know where she might be?" Then he shook his head to clear it of memories of the past and smiled as he gave her half bow. "Forgive me, Lady Lorelai. It is is a pleasure and an honor to meet you. How may I be of service to you?"

Hawk

4/26/2020

Ulric Hawk boarded the ship, looking around as he did so. He had just come from Ar Mosul. He had originally stayed to help the Vixen allies with the takeover, but starvation, lack of supplies, and damage forced him to make the difficult decision to return to Perdan. He also needed to head to the local barracks and recruit some more men to his unit. He hated leaving Ar Mosul, but to stay any longer would have served no purpose. He took the ship in, it truly was remarkable. He had never spent much time at sea, other than when we left Valldir at a young age to come to Perdan. He admired the Duke's previous life as an adventurer on the seas. Ulric dreamed of a different life, one where he never became a soldier, but instead lived a life among the seas. Sure, there would be peril, he was equipped for that, but there wouldn't be war. At least not on the ship he would be on. No more needless suffering, no more of him killing boys who grew up never knowing they would die pointlessly in some significant patch of dirt, and no more watching as people who trusted him charged behind him into certain death.

Maybe another life though.

Ulric had got the invitation and saw that formal wear was required. Of course it was required, but formal wear was very open to interpretation, especially to Ulric and his people. However, he would never disrespect the Duke, who he has grown to admire and respect over the years, so Ulric had made a point to dress well for this occasion. He wore a black Versailles Coat, with red running down the arms in intricate patterns. The buttons were a plain black, and he wore black pants to match. He had ditched his fur coat he wore most times, however one concession he did not make was his sword which lay at his side. He did switch the scabbard though to something more ornamental, less battle worn.

Ulric passed the Duke as he walked the ship, who was greeting all the guests. Ulric put out his hand and said, "Duke, once again you show yourself excellent host. I am honored to be among your guests on your ship." Ulric continued on, he still had the spyglass that the Duke had gifted him during the last festivities. He used it on all his campaigns, it had come in quite handy actually.

Ulric made his way to the interior of the ship, and was in awe of the converted museum. He looked at all the memorabilia, items, artifacts, it was so much to take in. He wondered which each item had been through, how many owners had posessed them, how many had died to protect them? He loved it, the history that each one told. He continued to take a look, taking it all in.

Storme

4/26/2020

The drink she had been served went too quickly- it had been sweet and chilled, but served in a delicate glass befitting a lady, far too small for Aila's needs. Nobles moved about her paired off with dates and companions of all sorts- some strange sorts even and Aila found herself wandering away from where people waited to greet the Duke with her tiny empty glass in hand. Her intentions had been to simply get out of the other guests way as they made their way around the deck, complimenting it's several shiny bits as if they knew anything about sailing at all.

A sideboard, was where it all started going wrong. Aila was not a drinker in any capacity, she was young and until recently closely guarded by a doting father and so where the impulse came from had to be down purely to youth mixed with a half glass of sparkling wine. She grabbed a bottle from a servant feigning the impatience of a noble snob so tired of waiting she had to go to the trouble to pour her own glass only to swipe the entire bottle as the server retreated from her in what was likely disgust hidden expertly behind obedience.

Wearing black in the evening made it simple for her to slip away from the main crowd on the deck-bottle in hand. Of course she was no animal- carefully pouring into her tiny dainty glass as she took the rare opportunity to sneak around less populated parts of the ship "admiring the view" with the bottle hidden out of view as she sipped from her thimble of a cup whenever a server would march past with dirty dishes or more food.

The Wayfarers Gambit was easier to appreciate away from the group of nobles milling around the main deck, it was not just the places guests would be that the Duke had put in painstaking attention to detail. For a sea faring vessel she could not find a single thing out of place or that had not been shined up in some manner. She could still hear the minstrels tunes carrying on the cool air, nearly overpowered by the sound of the water lapping at the side of the ship. Here the lighting was dim, meant only for those working she was sure but it was for her decidedly the nicer part of the gala.

Thought of seeking out Earl MacArbin did present itself to her, but how often did a mere knight get a peaceful moment to enjoy a sunset on a ship like this. Aila reflected, surely it can all wait a moment as she finished another tiny portion of her drink. As a rule, peaceful moments never lasted too long in these lands; especially not with so many highborn so nearby. After seeing a Marshal get slapped so early on she imagined it was only a matter of time before a lord came crashing down to the water from the top decks.

Everlight

4/26/2020

Isana curtsied to Nemean, her wide deep green silk skirt displayed gracefully between gloved fingertips. “Highness,” she greeted in return, “you look splendid as always this evening, and thank you.”

The handsome fellow appeared to be in the throes of high and agitated emotion. Isana stood at Alyssa’s right hand and the slightest step back, watching the exchange. Of course he’s agitated, he’s just been slapped! Nemean is embarrassed, that much is certain; but he’s also worried. She sipped from her goblet, alert for signs of distress in her Lady as she attempted to put the pieces together. She had felt Alyssa tense on his approach, and the Imperatrix now appeared stoic beside her amidst the emotional torrent of Nemean's narrative.

...Chances are she is headed for Smiddich or worse, Kay[…] That's where I am headed now. Whatever transpired between us, I could really use the help. - Nemean JeVondair Renodin

Isana raised one dark eyebrow at this. Initially she had been imagining some sort of high nobles' lovers' quarrel, but now it began to feel as though there was actually a threat at hand. She looked to Alyssa then back to Nemean and interjected in a low tone, intuiting that some sort of discretion was needed here.

“Forgive my naivete, Sir Nemean, I am not familiar with Delphine. What negative outcome are you anticipating?”

De Montigny

4/26/2020

Delphine was enjoying the meat on a stick. The ostrich riding Colonel's original recipe had not change since his sudden disappearance and she was glad his legacy lived on this evening to satisfy her hunger. She listened to the young Jacelyn's story with one ear on the music and one eye on the entertainment, the words suddenly caught her attention.

"Of course I judge your worth, I judge every knight in our army, it's my job to make sure they are all up to par and ready for battle. Wanting to throw your life away on a whim certainly makes me questions you as a knight. I would lay my life for anyone on the battle field, but to want to throw away your life for fun, that is a shame. I do hope that the fall knocked some sense into you, and that your injury reminds you how stupid that was and how every one of your brothers in arms must pay for your bad judgment."

She felt hers words getting stern and condescending, this was not at all where she wanted this conversation going, but she could not help but feel pity for the boy.

"Have not the teaching of Leandra helped you find your worth and purpose? From the first time I heard her words preached by the priestess Raine, my life was completely changed. I had a new found purpose and fire in me. I was proud to be a knight in her name. Maybe you should seek the priestess out to share a few words, it might help lift your spirits."

She was pleased that she could turn the conversation around, hopefully he would be ready for battle again soon. Once again, the vice-marshal in her was taking over. She sure was having a hard time just being Delphine for one night. The questioning of Mulhouse did please her however.

"Oh, the region is doing wonderful. I was in pretty bad shape when I took it upon myself to help rebuild it. The people are wonderful and hard working. Most have also found enlightenment in Leandra. It was the first structure erected and is surely still the main focus point for every immigrant. People come for far and wide to hear the teachings in the small humble shack that is used for mass. I really should look into building a better structure."

Delphine didn't expect to come on so religious, but it was true the her new found faith had helped her greatly.

"The people are happy, we are managing to store extra food in our granary, the Jensen Family Brewery was reopened. There actually should be some of the ale floating around here. I have moved into the newly constructed Black Plume Vineyard and we have even produced the first batch of wine using the de Montigny family recipe that my father traded out of Aix. The taste is not quite the same but still quite pleasant. If you ever come by the estate in Mulhouse, I will be sure to give you some. And lastly, the old Equestrian Guildhouse has seen some activity with amateur riders gathering regularly. Although it is no longer an actual functioning guildhouse, the riders gather in the building to trade and tell stories."

Delphine was proud at what she had accomplished with the war torn region, and it's people deserved to be happy again and not live in fear. All this talk might have made her look pretentious, but it was her companion that asked so it was only fitting to answer. She could not yet tell if the man was actual interested or making small talk as she had been. She couldn't help but think back to Nemean, had she been too strong in her confrontation? She looked up to him as a Marshal, why would he not talk to her about it. It was not fair for him to take such a important decision without discussing it or even letting her know out of his own mouth, and not even any reason given. And what about Dame Lorelai in all this?

Noire

4/26/2020

Dustiria having watched the altercation and seeing Alyssa far from it strides to where Delphine is talking to Jacelyn. Kenneth accompanies her ever smiling to those they pass.

"Pardon me for interrupting.,"she says to Delphine,"I know I am not technically on duty., "She gives a forgive me look to Kenneth, "but we witnessed your altercation and I was wondering if there is danger from Sir Nemean I should be aware of."

Renodin

4/26/2020

Having low key dismissed Isana's presence during his delivery to Alyssa it was doubly as surprising when the first response actually didn't come from the Imperatrix but from her bodyguard. It was more than fair to say that it proverbially, threw him off balance.

Isana raised one dark eyebrow at this. Initially she had been imagining some sort of high nobles' lovers' quarrel, but now it began to feel as though there was actually a threat at hand. She looked to Alyssa then back to Nemean and interjected in a low tone, intuiting that some sort of discretion was needed here.

“Forgive my naivete, Sir Nemean, I am not familiar with Delphine. What negative outcome are you anticipating?” ~Isana Everlight

The turn he was envisioning his body would soon make evaporated. His mind worked as Isana's words sank in. Do you mean to say, A stern look was cast in her direction. aid is dependent? Perhaps he flushed, perhaps it was the slap that lingered causing crimson on his features. Whatever the reason Lady Delphine might've had, they are a mystery to me. If she complains to the Duke or the King, you might remember how that ended for me last time. Last time no complain was lodged and my blood ended on the floor. Imagine what might happen this time. he glanced at Alyssa, wondering if she was going to pitch in.

She seemed really distraught and I have only had good words for her. She is dutiful, works harder than any man or woman I've encountered in a long time. His face softened. All she has gained was truly earned and deserved. There isn't a thing I can think of that would cause her to act so. His tone suggested he thought more of it. What if she was lied to? My name, my person.. He looked past Isana to Alyssa. ..they'll find it far too easy to believe a lie and I will have no way to protect against it. I don't want her harmed over nothing. Nemean felt the time it took to explain all this like a current. The waves lapping up to the ship a constant reminder in his ears. It caused him a measure of anxiety. He didn't like it but perhaps that was the simple price to pay.

Kingsley

4/26/2020

Alyssa accepted the goblet with a look of mock sternness towards her knight. "You desire a repeat of the last time perhaps?" The exaggerated frown she wore turned slightly upwards into a brief knowing smile. "Well maybe that's for the best." She finished accepting the goblet and taking a sip of the wine.

The smile faded however when from the corner of her eye she spotted the figure walking purposefully in her direction. Her body tensed and stiffened, and she took an unconscious step closer to Isana's side as Nemean approached her clearly with some intention. She said nothing, but held her chin up nobly as Nemean sputtered trying to find the words to explain some unknown situation. "Delphine slapped me."

She could see the red mark on his face, now beginning to fade somewhat. It was only a matter of time. Was her first idle thought; until he continued his story, concluding it with an uncharacteristic plea for help. She raised her eyebrow as he offered his hand to her. The proposition was an interesting one. Why should she? This man had done little but antagonize her, but she thought back to his letter, the one she could not find the words to reply to. Perhaps he was being true, in his own way. As she considered this, her knight spoke her own next thought. “Forgive my naivete, Sir Nemean, I am not familiar with Delphine. What negative outcome are you anticipating?” A fair question. She believed him that he did not know what he had done to deserve her ire; that was not new for him. He did not seem to understand her frustrations with him either. Perhaps he was simply hopeless, unable to understand women, or at least those from Perdan, his own home seemed quite different after all. Her mouth turned downwards slightly from the line it rested in so typically when he began to answer the question. She did not like the look he gave to Isana at her question nor did she care for his tone towards her dear knight. She let him continue however when his face softened as he described the Lady of Mulhouse.

She considered him thoughtfully as he answered Isana's question with praise for the Lady of Mulhouse. He had always been a contradiction to her, she could never truly grasp what he was feeling or his true motives. Then their eyes met, icy-blue and emerald-green. Then his words stoked a fire. "There isn't a thing I can think of that would cause her to act so. What if she was lied to? My name, my person..

He looked directly at her as he said this. The slight frown she wore at his expression towards Isana turned deeper. Is he accusing me?

"Sir Nemean." She began as sternly as he had answered Isana. "If there is a lie about you around then I know nothing of it. I have little interest in gossips and untruths. Whatever exists between the two of you I surely know nothing of it." She thought back to the concerned and flustered look he bore on his face, remembering the letter he wrote to her, and seeing her own apprehension in him. An awkward pause hung over the three of them as she mulled over his words and praise for Mulhouse's Lady. She sighed, giving in. Perhaps this was the opportunity to move forward. She glanced at the knightess at her side, standing gallantly an expression of concern and intent as she listened carefully to the young Marshal's thoughts.

"Perhaps, we can be of help however." She said addressing him in a stiff but gentler tone. "I have been thinking a great deal about honesty with others of late. And I have found that my assumptions of the intent of others and my beliefs about myself have caused me a great deal of self-inflicted discomfort. I have found that trust is an important thing for people to have, and that we must give it to each other, not rely on them to provide it to us. Do you trust Lady Delphine, Sir? Or did you convey to her that you do not trust her? If you do not know why she did what she did, then it is because you did not speak to her about whatever it is that upset her." Alyssa glanced briefly to the woman at her side before continuing to Nemean. "If you do not tell her what you are thinking and hoping then she cannot know. If you trust her, speaking to her about this will be easy. Be honest with her about yourself and your intention. I have found myself much happier since I realized this."

She looked at Isana. "What would you say, 'Sana?"

Everlight

4/26/2020

Isana was nodding thoughtfully as more information came to the fore. She felt momentarily sheepish about the conclusions she had drawn, then mentally shrugged. It was better to be prepared for the worst and then downgrade. This was polite society again, not the battlefield, and its tensions and stakes were far different. And Nemean had mentioned his own “blood on the floor”, so there was fear motivating his words for more than just polite opinion.

"What would you say, 'Sana?"

Alyssa’s sweet voice roused her from the musing and back to the present.

Isana met Alyssa’s gaze, holding it a moment while she spoke. “Honesty is always best, but it can require tact and trust to be used to best ends, I agree.” She looked back to Nemean. “You can tell someone all the truth in the world, but if they do not trust your words, or are not prepared to recognize the perspectives you give, it can be for naught. Or as it seems you have experienced, for negative. It may simply be a case of misconceptions run awry with the Lady Delphine, but the emotions are obviously high, and that will be unpredictable. I don’t know this Lady, so also do not know what she is capable of, though your implications are serious.” She glanced to Alyssa, gave a nod, and back to Nemean. “I am always willing to help those in need, Sir Nemean. I am somewhat in the dark as to what aid we can give in this circumstance, but if Aly--my Lady, thinks it agreeable, then I shall be glad to lend whatever aid I can to restore some harmony to this evening.”

Belmont

4/26/2020

Salem and Reno have three other guests join them at their table. Their mannerisms indicated that they thought Reno would be easy money, and possibly even easy love. From the way she drank, they would have had no issue getting that small girl in the sheets, right? They were constantly eye-f*cking her, like she was a rare steak with sautéed mushrooms. Salem wasn't having any of it, so it was time to teach them a lesson.

"Listen up kids, guts deuces. Game is simple. Five-card draw. Deuces wild. The round starts left of the dealer, and the player decides if they want to play, or fold. If two or more opt to play, the game continues. Any losers have to pay the current pot total, which between us five is ten silvers. Anyone who stays in gets a second round to exchange up to three cards. Best hand takes the current pot, and the deck goes to the left til only one person opts to stay in. Questions? No. Good."

Of course Reno and Salem chose to lose the first few rounds to increase the pot and make the newcomers feel good. But it was Reno who started to pull pot after pot. And the coin increased again, and again. From ten silvers, to twenty, to sixty, to one-hundred twenty. The men were desperate to impress her, just as she was desperate to bankrupt them. Finally, Salem was the only one to opt in, taking the final pot for himself, and ending the game. Two of the men quit the table, the the last cornered Reno.

"You play a mean game of cards. Pretty little thing like you must have all the men going nuts around her. But why don't I show you what an actual man is like. And when we're done, we can see about fitting you in to all sorts of frills and pearls. I can have you looking like a queen, if you give me a night feeling like a king."

At first, Salem goes to speak, but Reno places the back of her hand to his chest. She instead chooses to answer the man. Her words were completely unknown, almost sounding random. But her tone of voice was sinister, and was all he needed to hear.

"Garde tes trésors. Moi? Je veux mieux que tout ça. Des barreaux sont des barreaux, même en or. Je veux les mêmes droits que toi. Et du respect pour chaque jour. Moi? Je ne veux que de l'amour."

The man had no idea what to say, he just glared at her before his eyes turned over to Salem, who in turn is just as surprised at Reno.

"What did that little bitch just say to me?"

"I couldn't tell you." Salem responds. "But I will say that if you lay a hand on her, I will hold you responsible for the damage she inflicts on your body. Also, should I ever catch word that you're treating anyone else with this same sort of horrible game of yours, I'll feed you your own testicles. Now go piss yourself and stop making me squint so hard at you."

Disgruntled, the man leaves with a grunt while muttering, "stupid little whore" under his breath.

Salem turns his head to his sister. "I'm assuming that long-winded gibberish was some fancy way of telling a man to eat sh*t."

"Yup."

"Well, whoever made those words needs to figure out shorter ways to tell a man to eat sh*t."

"Yyyyup..."

Chamberlain

4/26/2020

There was something about the older man she immediately liked. Perhaps it was the soft warmth that played across his face as she mentioned her Grandmother. She had never known her as a Queen, but as a Grandmother she had regaled her with stories of knights and war that had been the mythos of her bedtime. The man before her was one of the players in those stories and as she stood in his prescence she found herself a little giddy and excited.

"Catherine does well, Lord Pryde. She still suffers from her maladies at times, but she has found contentment, such as it is, in her bower. I am not sure if you would remember my father Lord Pryde, Wulfric?" She paused sipping her wine, "he left Oligarch himself as a boy and was raised by his aunt on Dwilight. It is strange to speak of Oligarch to someone who was actually there... My G-Catherine, spoke well of you, Sir, were you not one of her ministers?"

She looked at a discarded plate of some sort of meat popsicle and immediately thought better of it. "I am sorry Lord Pryde, but I am a little overwhelmed. You have been part of the tapestry of my youth and it is such a surreal joy to meet you... I was truly dreading this evening, in honesty I am familiar with so few of the nobility here. Really I only know the Lady of Mulhouse and the Lord Marshal well, and with the kerfuffle of she striking he, though I suspect I know the reason, I feel unable to approach either... but seeing this" she indicated the sigils of Oligarch in the brocade of his robe. "And meeting you... well it has all been made worthwhile." On instinct and impulse she reached out taking g his hand in both of hers then blushed at the childish gesture clasping her hands in her lap.

She quickly collected herself. "Tell me Lord Pryde, have you ever heard aught about my uncle Goran Gabanus? My Aunt often visited my Grandmother, but I have heard tales but seen naught of my uncle since Garas' death?"

De Montigny

4/26/2020

Delphine was just finishing up her report on the current state of Mulhouse to the young Jacelyn, because that was almost what it felt like and as didn't really see the need to go into the actual happenings with this boy who he did not seem genuinely interested, when a familiar voice that she could not place called her name.

As she turned, she noticed the fair skinned knight with fiery hair that she had often seen when dealing with the Imperatrix. Although she could not recall a time that they actually exchanged words, she knew exactly who she was.

"Pardon me for interrupting.,"she says to Delphine,"I know I am not technically on duty., "She gives a forgive me look to Kenneth, "but we witnessed your altercation and I was wondering if there is danger from Sir Nemean I should be aware of." -Dustiria Noire

Delphine could not help but laugh, almost spilling her wine.

"Danger? From Sir Marshal of the Blackmane Paladins Nemean? Is that who you are referring to? That coward isn't dangerous to anybody. He is all talk and no action. He can't even muster enough manhood to give bad news himself, he needs a king to do it for him. And he calls himself a prince. Jacelyn here, with one bad arm and no will to live, has more fight in him than that sorry knight."

Between the events so far and the free flowing drinks, Delphine was definitely not weighing her word before speaking them. she did not mean what she was saying, but emotions and good wine were getting the better of her.

"You have nothing to worry about. As you witnessed earlier, I can take care of myself."

In reality, she had no idea why Nemean took the decision he did. She should be happy for him and for herself. She really did want to know the truth, but the news stung and always left a bitter taste in her mouth when thinking of it. Delphine, signaled for Dustiria to get a little closer, and as the woman leaned over she whispered in her ear.

"But between you and me, what does Alyssa really think of Nemean?"

Was Alyssa the reason behind all of this she wondered?

Noire

4/26/2020

The strong smell of alcohol makes Dustiria wrinkle her nose. She wondered if Delphine and started drinking before or after she had slapped Nemean. She listened to the explanation and to the whisper. and she responded in kind. "I am not worried Nemean will hurt anyone physically. He poses no danger to those of us who have skills. I am worried whatever caused you to slap him will cause the Imperatrix issues. He has been known to aggravate things with his words. I do not want yet another headache caused by the man. What did the King say on his behalf? Are you certain? Our king is not the type to be a go between. He is to strong for that and wouldn't interfere with his knights unless it was of the utmost importance."

MacArbin

4/27/2020

As Dustiria conversed with Delphine, Kenneth kept one ear on the conversation. Dustiria was a better fighter than he if it came to that, and she would ask if she wanted him to intervene in any other way. In the meantime, he needed to make sure he could gather his performers when the time came. The various hirelings were not a problem, but Aila and Elinor were another matter. He knew Elinor on sight, and he might be able to recognize Aila from a few battlefields, but...Better to be safe than sorry, particularly with the party spreading all over the ship.

He spotted a server he recognized from the Stump, Lea he thought, and signalled for her. She smoothly switched directions, making her way to him.

"Lea, yes? Ah, good, thought I recognized you, I need a favour. Can someone bring me word when Lady Aila and Viscountess Elinor arrive? Or, if they are already here, can someone tell me where they are and give me a description of what they are wearing so I can pick them out of the throng more easily?"

He slipped a few silver to Lea as he asked, and she grinned and bobbed a curtsey.

"Aye milord, we'll see to it!"

He flashed a grin back, and turned his full attention back to the conversation, secure in that he would be able to find them when the time came.

Goldwater

4/27/2020

Jacelyn quietly listened to the conversation with a painful grimace. After Delphine leaned forward to Dustiria, he finally stepped in. "Lady Dustiria! Will you join us, two fools drinking together, for a drink?" Jacelyn couldn't help but laugh when he turned to face Delphine again.

"You have called me a fool, or worse, before. You also kindly reminded me of my brothers in arms suffering due to my judgment. But here we are, and not one, but two fools together. One duelled Apollyon Daubeny without armour, and the other slapped prince Nemean. That makes us equally foolish, doesn't it? Because what can be more harming to an army and all its soldiers than discontent between the marshal and his officers? On the other hand, my foolishnes didn't affect anyone but me. I am as capable as before to lead my men into battle and I don't know about a single occasion when my brothers in arms have been suffering due to my injury."

With these words, Jacelyn turned around and went for another cup of wine.

Pryde

4/27/2020

"I served Free Oligarch in many ways," Benjamin said in answer to her question. "It was a rather long time ago of course, but I seem to remember being both judge and banker over time. And of course I commanded Oligarch herself."

Benjamin swept a hand back to take in his companions. The one holding his plate of fried chicken caught her momentary attention on the plate, and then smiled towards Benjamin as she averted her eyes. A simple toss sent it over the side into the harbor with an attitude that suggested that was where it belonged. An innocent pair of eyes met his, and Benjamin suppressed a snort.

Lorelai was back to her rapid fire words and Benjamin struggled to keep up with her. She was a mix of nerves and energy, stuck in a new situation, and trying to keep pace with others who knew this dance far better than she. She grasped his hand for a moment, and then asked about Goran.

Benjamin shook his head and turned a questioning look towards his fair-haired companions. Both shook their heads and Benjamin let out a long breath. "I'm sorry, Lady Lorelai. I and my companions have heard of Goran, but we have not heard FROM Goran. We know he is out there, or was out there for a time, but he has never reached out to us. The last word I had was that he was in the Caligus if I remember correctly, but I have heard nothing of him in some time. I would never count someone of that family out of any situation, but they have many enemies. If one were to return, I would welcome them with open arms, but also wonder when the assassins would follow them."

Benjamin paused and smiled at the young lady. "I hope I do not ramble on too much. Age has gifted me much to think on, but not as much time as I would like to think about all of it."

Chamberlain

4/27/2020

She felt unbidden tears prick the back of her eyes and her hands again reached for his unbidden. No wonder he felt able to put those strange meat popsicles past his lips.

"My Grandmother will be grieved to hear of your misfortunes..." her mind drifted as she pondered how she would tell her grandmother of her old friends impending death. She stammered a little seeking words, "but you look so well, is there truly nothing..." she chided herself for her childishness in the face of his stoicism.

He looked at her, a little puzzled, and a small part of her heart broke anew. The strains of the band cut through her ponderings and she recognised the waltz, almost a March really, 'The First of Oligarch'. She took it as a sign, standing and forcing a bright but brittle smile.

"Lord Pryde, they play 'The First of Oligarch', it is surely a sign, would you do me the honor of this dance?"

Pryde

4/27/2020

Lady Lorelai's words once again confused Benjamin as she jumped from one thought to another quicker than he could follow. He had no worries for the future of course. He had a very good memory and was certain that he could comb over them all to find where her logic was flowing. For now though, there was something far important at hand.

A pretty young lady had asked him to dance, and Benjamin of Free Oligarch would never let such an opportunity go to waste. He smiled, and caught his companions rolling their eyes at his instant transformation from the quiet and studious banker he usually portrayed to the spry dancer he rarely let off the leash in public.

Benjamin took Lady Lorelai's hand and gave her a deep bow.

"It would be my honor," he said before sliding into the music with the exquisite and meticulous care of long practice.

It would never do allow a pretty young lady fail to enjoy a dance at a party after all. That would be a great failure of the gentlemanly code. And if there were some out there who may question his gentlemanly credentials, he could act the part in public with the same exquisite and meticulous care that went into his dance steps.

Fontaine

4/27/2020

Smiddich, the pirate Lord of Perdan, thought things were going swimmingly well. The music and food were delightful, the ship immaculate, and the company splendid.

The Duke entertained the merchants and other minor nobility with businesslike grace and aplomb, sweeping their platitudes and triflings away with cold courtesy. Among his knights and the aristocracy of the realm, however, his affection was warm and genuine. Gifts were graciously accepted and earnestly inspected; Smiddich asked especially after the history of Rogos' substantially thoughtful gifts, rare Brovyl wine from House Vorn, a beautiful Goldwater dagger. His knights seem to have a predilection for family wineries which would keep the ship in liquor for some time. The rest would add to the gallery aspect of the beautifully styled galleon.

The Duke delivered and reciprocated hugs, handshakes and back slaps with earnest familiarity among his closest knights, with whom he had shared battles both won and lost. When the King arrived, with his peculiar cat, Smiddich personally saw the monarch installed upon the seat of honor at the high table. He seemed tired, and gray, feeding the cat slivers of meat from his thin fingers. Theirs was a hearty shake of the wrist; they traditionally spoke very little to one another, but the Duke attended the King immediately. Although King Kay was provisioned heartily at his throne, he took none of it for himself.

The Black-bladed Duke took it all in; his line of attendants was finally dwindling; he could take a break to sup and dine for himself. There seemed to be small cliques of nobles talking, drinking and flirting among themselves; an impromptu card game had broken out in the stateroom. The lesser and guests entertainers were slowly being filtered out, their opportunity aboard the Wayfarer spent; the gala proper was for the delight and patronage of the Perdan elite, and it would begin soon.

Until then, the Duke mingled.

Chamberlain

4/27/2020

He was like a man renewed, moving with cat like grace and an attentiveness that saw him lead her around an arc of the deck like they had been dancing together for years. She silently gave thanks that she had been of average height so that generally she had been allowed to learn as the woman in the Aix academy, rather than the taller girls fated to always lead as the man.

As he took her on a second circuit she noted that the floor was clearing as the flush of minor nobility made way for Lord Pryde. Rather than being horrified she actually felt bubbling happiness in the older mans promenade. The music died and a grinning Lord Pryde bowed to her and then turned to his audience with a flourish of appreciation for their applause.

A voice from somewhere on the deck, mischievously called for a Polka. The call was echoed as Lord Pryde cupped a hand to his ear encouraging the calls, before with the briefest nod to the musicians he turned back to her. The decoletage she did not know she possessed before the Maunt had laced her corsetry now heaved as she tossed her hair back from her shoulders and nodded her assent. She relaxed into his hold gripping her skirts with her right hand as the musicians struck cords and the Lord swept her in twirling laughing arcs around the fore deck again.

Renodin

4/27/2020

"Sir Nemean." She began as sternly as he had answered Isana. "If there is a lie about you around then I know nothing of it. -/- Be honest with her about yourself and your intention. I have found myself much happier since I realized this." Alyssa looked at Isana. "What would you say, 'Sana?" ~Alyssa Kingsley

“I am always willing to help those in need, Sir Nemean. I am somewhat in the dark as to what aid we can give in this circumstance, but if Aly--my Lady, thinks it agreeable, then I shall be glad to lend whatever aid I can to restore some harmony to this evening.” ~Isana Everlight

The wind gained hands that conspired to annoy Nemean. Throwing his golden mane in a tangle. Over his face and then whipping it over this shoulder or that one. His chest rose as he took in air for a great sigh but rather than letting it happen he held it in. Staring at Alyssa as she seemed intend on talking to herself. He tried to make eye contact with her. Some sort of flicker of hope perhaps so that she would realize he wanted her to take action. To do something based upon what he'd just said. He hoped against hope it seemed, the Imperatrix was quite content to ponder the meaning and apparent use of, honesty, of all things.

The air escaped his nostrils in little puffs. His hands clenched and unclenched with visible impatience. The smooth skin of his forehead formed a veritable landscape more suited to a windswept desert. Yet he held his tongue as Alyssa petitioned Isana's opinion. Finally he thought, she gets it. A bit. hearing Isana speak. The twin tails of his overcoat slapped his leg with a final brusque gust of air. Before it ceased, growing tired of teasing him. His hand quickly racked his hair back into place. Finishing with a lingering touch of his angular chin. It took about the same amount of time for Isana to offer her help.

Good. Rogos might already be with the Duke or the King, depending which Delphine went for. He exchanged a look with Isana. Whichever it is, keep the other busy as I finish this business with Delphine. He licked his lips and used the time to think momentarily. Weighing the options. His green eyes found their way to Alyssa. You were useful as ever. Take your time to think about it some more. He began to turn on his heels. Strong legs and purpose propelled him with vim in the direction of the fore deck. Maybe in a few more years you'll have finally figured it out. His voice strong and unbroken like the one he used on the battlefield. Much like his path in fact, remained unbroken. A gaunt faced merchant was manhandled out of the way. A powerful hand and shoulder, like a prow cutting through the sea of people. Some objected, tipsy with drink and put in a mood to be galant or indignant. Nemean had no time for their prattle. Twisting the arm of an arrogant youth trying to shove him. Propelling the lout towards the railing with practiced ease. A yelp and a grunt bounced off the ocean's watery floor below.

He cared little at this point. A mixture of frustration and a need to right this wrong. What wrong? the question plagued him. The inability to answer his own question made him needlessly rough. The shadows mingling with candlelight cast him as a dancer and a brute at the very same time. Having made his way to the stairs leading to the fore deck he came to a brief stop. Indecision gnawed at his resolve. What was he even going to say? The wooden steps offered no guidance on the matter. He stamped on the first one as he ascended them. Emerging out ontop he knew a moment of awe as he took the whole scene in. His lips worked silent words. A glitter in his deep jade eyes. Strings of lanterns hung like fat fireflies over the opulent guests. Bathing their finery in a wash of gentle bronze. A strand of his hair wiggled free of the confinement of his ear and fell across his face.

Renodin

4/27/2020

He wanted to move. A hand lingering on the final bit of railing. The soft sounds of the nighttime sea calming the rhythm of his heart. A distant caw of a gull. Kindred to the depths of the ocean, he felt a sadness deep down in his chest. From under long lashes he forced himself to look. Fingers let go of wood. His body moved. The trestles of red he saw first. Those colors, that was Dustiria. His feet carried him closer. Drink Sire? Bubbling wine was offered. A dozen at a time on a tray. A stare filled with unspoken words bored the servant through the ground. Unbidden and unintended, but it happened.

That man next to Dustiria, Kenneth. He looked good. Fancy but involved. He relished it. Whatever -it- was. A brow arched on Nemean's face. Somewhere he knew, he had to know. The bulk of a befuddled man bumped into him. Clearly rich and probably an important individual. There was a height difference and Nemean stared him down without malice. Expression is terrifying but the absence of it is truly haunting. Even in his inebriated state the man recognized something important. Wording an apology which was answered with the smallest of nods. It was all Nemean was willing to sacrifice of his attention.

Beyond Dustiria he noted the slim figure of Jacelyn. A man either dumb or truly one of those men that sought death. Nemean thought him too young to have that wish already. Perhaps it was the impetus of youth. A thing he had been intimately familiar with in the past himself. Probably still he decided. The night-sky framed her ethereal. The edge of her flowing hair shimmering in and out of existence. He had to strain his eyes to fully appreciate the contours of her face. Delicately illuminated from a tenfold sources. Yet not a single one of them offered plenitude. Only just enough.

It seemed he had arrived just as an exchange had come to an end. Not sure between whom exactly and as soon as his mind started to guess he crushed the thought. Two more deft strides. His shoulders framing his measured bulk without added padding. The slender strength contained in his neck strained, as he raised his chin up high. He stole a look at the stars high above. One of the clouds looked like a satyr touting a horn at him. His chin came down, eyes cast directly at Delphine. The rosy tint of her cheeks. The life that strained under her skin. Barely contained. Exuding from her health like a wellspring borne from rare rock offering the purest form of water.

He stepped into the small gathering of four. Blocking out the view of whatever lay behind. He hadn't seen the Duke that must've been nearby. The King sat just over there. His eyes sought hers. Why. His voice soft and it surprised him. Why are you angry? The satyr's horn blew the scents of soft Myrrh mingled with mint. A careful whirl of whimsical ocean current that followed wherever Nemean went, breathing the tones of his perfume.

The onset of the dawn. The first glimmers of a smile, working at the corners of his mouth.

de Montigny

4/27/2020

"... Because what can be more harming to an army and all its soldiers than discontent between the marshal and his officers? On the other hand, my foolishnes didn't affect anyone but me. I am as capable as before to lead my men into battle and I don't know about a single occasion when my brothers in arms have been suffering due to my injury." -Jacelyn Goldwater

Delphine listened to the words stated by her companion, they cut deep, much more than he could possibly know. The trust between her and her Marshal was gone. The army was never in any danger of being misled, and they would continue to thrive in battle as they have been thus far. This quarrel was personal, although the implications were extended indirectly to their duties.

"My dear Jacelyn, we may both be fools in our own way, but I am certainly not one for putting Sir Nemean in his place. Prince or not, he deserved what came to him. The Blackmane Paladins are in good hands as they have always been, when it comes to the army, there is certainly no conflict between us. His capacity to lead or mine, was never at question, his cowardice comes from off the battle field, not on it. A knight unable to hold a shield, draw a bow or do anything at all while riding a horse, is less useful then a bannerman however."

She gives the poor boy a wink and a pleasant smile. She raises her glass and take another sip from the goblet.

"To fools!"

She turned her attention back to Dustiria and Kenneth.

"Do join us, the night is young and the entertainment has barely begun. You need not worry. I assure you, our great king was merely doing his job, doing what the Marshal of his army was too afraid to say himself. It is what it is, who am I to question their decisions. Let us enjoy the spectacles before us."

As she was finishing the words, her gaze danced across the crowd of nobility enjoying their evening, looking for new entertainment to distract her. To her surprise, there he was, the man she had recently assaulted, just standing there. As their eyes locked, she felt his demeanor change, soften involuntarily as if a clam breeze had just blown away any malice. 'Why. His voice soft and it surprised him. Why are you angry? -Nemean JeVondair Renodin

Delphine could feel the fire building up again inside her, fueled by betrayal.

"Why? You ask me why?" She was fighting the urge to knock some sense into him again, he had obviously not learned the first time.

"I'm not just angry you fool, I'm sad!" She could feel her vison blur as tears were being held back, pooling along her eyelids but not being allowed to escape. She bit down on her lip that was beginning to quiver.

"How could you do this to me, you know how much the Paladins mean to me! You were supposed to help me, not abandon me! And to hear it from Kay and not out of your own mouth, I expected so much more from you. How do you think I felt when I read the letter delved by a royal raven promoting your new apprentice, Dame Lorelai, to Vice-Marshal? So the question should be for you... Why?"

Poe

4/27/2020

There she was, The Wayfarers Gambit.

Lucius took one final moment adjusting his very special outfit before making his way aboard, he couldn't help notice the shocked expressions and wide eyed shock presenting itself on the help as he slinked his way forward. Maybe it was his very tight leather trousers....or perhaps his bright red tunic or it could even be the baldric he had specially made for this very event.

It was his hat. His massive feathered hat that he insisted on wearing, he was repeatedly advised that maybe something a little bit more subtle was needed but Lucius rubbished the idea. After all a peacock was born to strut and strut he did.

"Lucius Poe has arrived" he grinned running his fingers across the brim of his enormous hat.

he didn't listen to the gents name who's job it was to escort him but he insisted on calling him Boswell anyway. Lucius couldn't help but admire the decor as he was led to join the guests for a wonderful evening

"Ah marvellous. Thank you Boswell" Lucius quickly took himself a couple of drinks from a nearby table and surveyed the room looking for some faces he recognised not paying attention to the dull thud slowly building up inside his head.

"Time for the Poe to put on a show" he thought completely unaware he spoke the words aloud.

Renodin

4/27/2020

"How could you do this to me, you know how much the Paladins mean to me! You were supposed to help me, not abandon me! And to hear it from Kay and not out of your own mouth, I expected so much more from you. How do you think I felt when I read the letter delved by a royal raven promoting your new apprentice, Dame Lorelai, to Vice-Marshal? So the question should be for you... Why?" ~Delphine de Montigny

Watching the emotions roil across her face Nemean leaned back in place. His head cocked while at the same time his brow furrowed deeper than a fleeing mole diving underground. His lips moved to offer a response but she didn't allow him the chance as she continued. Instead they formed a thin line. His gaze skeptical, arms folding. As she mentioned the King his eyes narrowed. Quietly glancing over in Kay's direction.

Was that all that the King wrote? It was a question but the tone was all but devoid of knowledge. His arms uncoiled, thinking for a moment which resulted in him nodding to himself. Come, let's bring this full circle. His eyes held that gentle quality of before. With an arm he gestured towards where the King was seated. Anticipating potential apprehension he spoke. This won't be embarrassing. In fact, quite the opposite. Unsure if that was enough he turned his head to face her directly. A hint of a sporting challenge ran through his body. A ripple at most that culminated in raised brows.

Storme

4/27/2020

A moment alone did he well, after the initial rush of actually getting there and slowing down a moment to collect herself and drain half a bottle of something she couldn't pronounce Aila felt a lot more like her usual confident self now. Plus, she had gotten to enjoy a sunset as well as admire some more of the gambit and all without being bothered.

The sounds of a short tussle on the main deck caught Aila's attention at once, and for a short moment she thought she really would see a knight crash down into the water but no such luck this time. It was however enough to interest her in seeing what other mischief and troubles she might have missed in her time away from the others. No one had seen her when she left and no one seemed to notice her coming back- still with her tiny glass in hand still recognizing painfully few of the people there.

A server swept past and replaced it with a fresh one in such a hurry she nearly missed the fact that it was the one she had snipped at earlier...What he must think of me now, she thought as she sipped this new drink- realizing it was stronger then the last as she peered around the deck not finding much of interest at all in the way of mischief.

Except for the Marshals- one looking weepy and the other. . . Aila let out a short sigh as she remembered that the few people she did know had seen her flung from her horse into the dirt days prior. Her moment of self doubt was short lived as one of the Duke's hired minstrels caught her ear; if you asked her Lady Storme would claim she was no talent when it came to music really, but somehow a countertenor always caught her attention. Thoughts of the last time she had been anywhere near a minstrel threatened to come to mind but her half bottle of party-spirit pushed them away with little effort. His voice made her forget her lack of company for the moment as she moved closer, finding a spot nearer to listen.

Belmont

4/27/2020

The Grand Gala

Salem and Reno are working hard on getting into their cups. It seems to have become a competition between them. Their little corner or the world smells like a tub of alcohol and cigar smoke. Reno looks over to her brother with glossy eyes and a seemingly heavy head.

"Who's the one that took a meat-hook to the mead hole?"

"It's a guess to me, but I would assume that Sir Nemean's sporting a new hand-shaped tattoo. He comes off as a man who collects em."

"Do you not like him or something?"

"Oh. No I do. I respect him a great deal. I just know that he's not afraid to make an enemy in the quest for real friends. So if I hear about a fist to a kidney or a knee in the boys, I assume it's Nemean."

"Should we...Uh...Should we say something to him? Or hug him, or something?"

"Can you stand?"

"Yee-No...No."

"We'll just whistle at him then."

"I need to pee."

The two share a glace at each other before breaking out in a fit of giggling that quickly becomes laughter. A garçon approaches to ask them if they require more alcohol. In unison they loudly say, "YES PLEASE SIR!" Reno lights herself another cigar and tries her best to blow rings, which makes her look like an idiot who's attempting to blow out a candle on the beams

Pryde

4/27/2020

The second dance came to a close, and Benjamin bowed to Lorelai once more before stepping back towards where his two companions still made excellent impressions of wall flowers. They were tall and elegant, their faces far more angular than most people, and they eyed the young lady carefully as he guided her towards them.

"Thank you very much for the amazing dance, Lady Lorelai," Benjamin said with a smile. "Now I would like to introduce you to two of my closest friends in these days."

He waved a hand towards the two, who flicked eyes towards each other for a moment, and then smiled. The first bowed much as Benjamin had, placed a hand over where the heart rested, and spoke a single word that was utterly unpronounceable. The second echoed those actions before standing back up straight once more.

"Ah," Benjamin said in a sage tone. "Their formal names. They tell me that is a great honor."

Then Benjamin winked. "Though I contend they are simply exercising a questionable sense of humor with you."

NOTE: Those familiar with the "Elven Overlords of Sirion" would recognize them as elves. Those not would see slightly taller and thinner humans. I mostly base them off the Forest Elves seen in the Hobbit movies. NOT the high elves seen in Lord of the Rings. If Lorelai grew up in Oligarch, she has probably seen some of them. Oligarch was part of Sirion until the civil war after all, so elves, while rare, did live there. Or so I've always played it as. ;)

Noire

4/27/2020

Bruce wipes down the bar and checks the servers as they come back for more beverages to serve. The burly man has rolled up his sleeves and some of his tattoos can be seen.

"Now remember tell those that take the Bloody Stump Special that the Duke or Dame Dustiria would be happy to have them join their exclusive group. All members get the first samples of any mead Sir Salem provides the Bloody Stump. "

He places cards on each of their trays and the bar. The cards say for information about The Bloody Stump, exclusive samples, and more see Duke Smidditch or Dame Dustiria today.

" Now if they want to talk to me they can but his Grace would be happier to tell them all about The Bloody Stump."

He looks over at all the guests and puts more cards out then winks at a noble woman that seems to be staring at his muscles.

"You know this gig might be good."

Chamberlain

4/27/2020

She gratefully accepted his arm, as he led her to his companions. She had paid them little heed before his introduction and now felt a little wrong footed by her own approach to these... she would still call them men. Trying vainly not to stare she reached up unlocking the pearl drops from her ears

"Im would ú- gar- expected fae so far o cín naneth dór. Cin honor nin with cín est- a im honor cin with i pearls, tears -o i beleg naneth Ora a gern bui a rís -o men." She stumbled over the words pressing an earring to the hand of each man. "Apologies gentlemen, my Sindra is rather rusty." She smiled in the hope that she had not mis-spoken and caused some insult, already regretting her arrogance at even attempting the language and hospitalities.

Belmont

4/27/2020

The Belmonts sit eerily still, staring at beams above their heads, and gripping their chairs. This, in their current state of mind, is ultimate means of not falling off of their seat as the world around them gently sways to and fro.

"Say-Luuum...Are you drunk yet?"

"I've ingested a lot of bee vomit."

"Well yeeeaah. But are you drunk?"

"Nope. I'm doing me a power-sit. Gunna sit here in this chair with great effort."

"When did we eat?"

Salem's pupils dilate as his expression flips to horror. "Ffffffffffffudge."

"Wha? Whuz...What happened?"

"Garçon!" He calls out.

Reno, completely confused decided to join him. "Garçooon!"

"Garçon!"

After. While of their calling, a man approaches, clearly unimpressed with the pair. "Is everything okay?"

Unfortunately for Salem, Reno answers, "We will give you...Ssssix gold. To-To uh. To load up our table with food."

Salem stares at her with his mouth agape. He mouths the words "That's my money" but no sounds leave his lips. The man nods his head and goes to load a few plates with hors d'oeuvres. He comes back to the table only to see Salem giving a look that could kill to his sister. During such a sinister stare-down, he sets the food in front of them and says, "No charge" before briskly walking away. Reno and Salem stare their daggers at each other for a few more seconds before annihilating their food with little, to no grace.

Hensley

4/27/2020

As was her wont, Elinor had slipped quietly on board, avoiding the queue of nobles. Whilst she very much wished to pay her compliments to her liege—to whom she owed so much—she would prefer to wait until there was a bit less fuss about him. Besides, obtaining some mead was of critical importance, and then she should probably find Sir Kenneth. She wished Meraud were here for moral support, but her Captain had vetoed that rather strongly. Such divisions of rank as might exist between a wealthy yeoman’s daughter and that of a poor minor noble had meant little in the country. The place and the circumstances had changed greatly in the last few months. But we haven’t changed. Have we?

Glass in hand, Elinor meandered through the crowd idly stroking the fabric of her gown. It was the most ridiculous thing she had ever owned. The lilac-grey silk satin felt like sin and shimmered in the candlelight. It was trimmed with wire thread and velvet and silver-gilt fasteners from throat to waist where an embroidered sash in grey and darker lilac wrapped her hips. It was decadent and unnecessary and absolutely divine. Her hair was magic, too: some sort of complicated coils and tendrils about her face Hair jewels were still a bit out of her reach, but Tamsyn had woven tiny white and purple flowers amongst the twists. Elinor had never felt more…more in her life. Almost…almost confident.

Still, another glass of mead would harm no one.

De Montigny

4/28/2020

Was that all that the King wrote?...Come, let's bring this full circle....This won't be embarrassing. In fact, quite the opposite. -Nemean JeVondair Renodin

Delphine stood there listening to Nemeans response, it did not answer her question. In fact, he didn't seem to understand it for some reason? Did he not care? As she stared at him, she couldn't help but recognise the traces left by her fingers on his cheek, it was a fitting mark to remind him that he was not alone, that they had been working together, they were a team. Why would he not talk to her, was there never any trust to begin with?

Delphine though back to what Dustiria and said. "He has been known to aggravate things with his words" -Dustiria Noire

Was that the reason he didn't talk to her? Did he want to avoid things getting worse between them? Things were still unclear and the alcohol was making it even harder to make sense of it all.

As the band changed songs, she could see Lorelai from the corner of her eye, dancing with the Baillivus. He was much more graceful than she would have imaged, and Lorelai's youth seemed to rejuvenate him. She was well schooled, poised and calculated, less unpredictable than Nemean and herself. She would make a fine vice-marshal and offer a nice contrast and balance to leadership.

Delphine's attention returned to Neamean, watching him extend his arm in the direction of their king. As if a prophet leading slaves across a parted ocean, the crowd seemed to split as his hand swept the air, leaving a clear path between them and the throne at the head of the main table. His gesture seemed defying, almost mocking her, a dare even. She was not one to stand down. She turned to Jacelyn, Dustiria, and Kenneth.

"If you would excuse me, this should only take a minute."

Delphine swatted her Marshals arm out of the way without saying a word. Her first step was a stumble, but she quickly regained her footing. This might not have been the best idea considering her current state, and in front of king kay of all people. Still, she continued forward leading the way, not looking back.

As she approached the kings table she noticed the royal cat enjoying morsels of food fed to it. Her pace slowed as she approached and knelt on one knee before the most powerful man on the continent. It was a true testament to how great Perdan was to have access to such an important person without any useless filtering or bureaucracy. It was always an honour to exchange word with him.

"Good evening your highness, I hope you are enjoying the celebrations. I am sorry to bother you with such matters on this fine evening, but I come to you here with Sir Nemean because he seems to need some insight on his recent decision as Marshal of the Blackmane Paladins. I kindly reminded him, that it would have been nice for him to speak to me about it first instead of me learning of in from your recent letter. Please help him understand what might have been the proper way to handle it, or better yet..." Delphine turned her head to Nemean, and in a mocking tone, mimicking the previous challenge set forth by him, she continued. "Sir Nemean, ask your questions, refresh your memory."

Her head was spinning, too many drinks in too little time, getting up would be a challenge. Knelling down was a comfortable position at that moment, she was much closer to the ground which would make a falling hurt a lot less. The evening breeze was refreshing, despite being interlaced with smells of perfumes, fried meat, alcohol, and sweaty people, when the cool drafts from the water passed, it felt nice. All she could do was wait, and hopefully be rid of Nemean for the evening after all this. She would miss him though, he was one of the few people that actually took the time to get to know her. The thought saddened her, as she held back more tears, keeping her head low not to show weakness before her king.

Pryde

4/28/2020

Benjamin did not try to wipe the smirk off his face as his two companions blinked in surprise.

"Well, would you listen to that," he said and chuckled. "She speaks better than I do."

Two sets of eyes speared him and they sniffed in unison.

"That would not be hard," one said as she switched to Perdanese.

"A tone-deaf dwarf could best you in that skill," the other added.

Then they turned to Lady Lorelai and pressed the pearls back into her hands.

"The honor is ours," the first said.

"The honors is yours," the second said.

"Wear them with honor," they said in unison and pulled back from the young lady.

"They are forest elves," Benjamin said and leaned in close to Lady Lorelai. "They appreciate the gesture, mind you."

The elves sighed as if they'd already said that. Which they had, from a certain point of view.

"But they do not treasure the same things as their northern cousins," Benjamin continued, ignoring their physical interruption. "Which is how we met, by the way. Back in your grandmother's day, it was. Not all the elves are loyal to those northern cousins. Many stood with us in the civil war. They guided me in researching the old wars against the orcs and the dwarves. And helped me find the tales describing how they ensnared our northern brethren to serve them. And they chose to follow me when Oligarch fell. They have been my trusted companions ever since."

Benjamin paused to give them a nod. "And they have saved my life on more than one occasion. Though they typically try to kill me again right away by making me eat their salads."

Benjamin shuddered for effect before leaning in closer. "Truth is, I've actually grown to like their salads, but if you repeat that to them, I will deny ever saying it."

The two elves, within easy earshot of his words, rolled their eyes in an all too human gesture.

Renodin

4/28/2020

The balance of her body was shaky at best. She turned to deliver her words to the others in the group. Sluggish or was it just her being careless? He watched her carefully but didn't interrupt. When she intoned that a minute was all she'd need he didn't suppress a veiled smirk. A tiny shake of his head all the objection he'd offer. It made the impact of her hand against his all the more comical in his mind. Everything pointed at the fact that she hadn't received the full message. He wondered how he'd remedie that.

She preceded him and drew a multitude of eyes following. The flowing fabrics of her light viridian dress an unstoppable tide of green. The boldness on display cowed some in the crowd but more than anything it announced something was about to happen. Glancing at the trio they were about to leave behind Nemean shrugged perceptibly. His gaze lingered on Jacelyn last before turning to follow Delphine. One of the older ladies of court, a minor noble still but a matron fully in her own right, peeked out of the wall of people that had cleared a path. Eyeing Nemean expectantly. Did she just wring her hands? he wondered as he fell into a confident stride.

Catching up to Delphine was no punishment at all. She slowed as she approached the King's table. The flow of liquid onyx fell over her shoulders and parts of her face, as she knelt. He arrived just after. Making a formal bow and dipped onto a single knee before rising back up again. Words heavy with derision and finishing with mockery flowed from her. From under his lashes he merely watched her. The rise of his chest subdued. Figuring things out about Delphine she'd never shared before. Somewhere he wanted to help her correct some of the hair that had fallen into her vision. A trap he bore scars from.

She turned her head to Nemean, and in a mocking tone, mimicking the previous challenge set forth by him, she continued. "Sir Nemean, ask your questions, refresh your memory." ~Delphine de Montiny

He tilted his head up at that. A wry expression threatening to bloom across his face. It subsided as he deliberately waited to respond. He looked at the King, at Kay. Trying to establish permission or at least conveying something. There was that well hidden glint in that look of his. Nemean turned to Delphine and from her looked at the people gathered. Delphine de Montiny. A gentle wave of volume that he made carry. My Vice Marshal, second in command of the Blackmane Paladins. He didn't stop himself as the urge to smile grew. He knew it probably wasn't all that proper and that prompted him to hide it again. Some of you are gathered here tonight. At the pleasure of his Majesty and through the grace of his Grace, the Duke. A small nod he gave in the direction of the Duke and King. We are fortunate to be gathered. His hand rose as the gesture empowered the words beyond sound. None so much as I, even if I paid for it with pain. He motions for his cheek and gave a lopsided grin.

Those that we treasure we try to protect. Not just that, for many of them can well take care of themselves. They are Perdanese after all. I embody that point I suppose. He indicated Delphine. She is one of a sparing few. Learned faster than I could've imagined. If you thought I did a lot you're sorely mistaken. I must heap praise onto her shoulders. She's been an integral, I hate that word, part of the Blackmanes. He touched the edge of his cheek with his thumb. A beating heart. Strong, unflinching and fiercer than a growling bear disturbed during hibernation! And far more beautiful! I shall not forget to mention that. He pointed up as he said it. Waging his finger. The ivory of his teeth on full display.

Renodin

4/28/2020

His expression slowly morphed towards a more serious state before their very eyes. It's been some weeks now since I wrote to his Majesty and his most trusted advisors. I am not sure why he would count me among those. But I do know as I wrote then that Lady Delphine has earned all she has received. First I heard of her was when I looked for a Vice Marshal. She convinced me that she would not disappoint me. That she would do all that was required. I was impressed then and I still am. She's done all and more. He glanced at Delphine briefly before turning his gaze back to the people and the King. It is why I petitioned the King for his permission. To replace Delphine as Vice Marshal. To suggest Dame Lorelai for the position. To relinquish my own position as Marshal. To bestow that title upon her capable shoulders. He swallowed. Waited for as long as it took for him to breathe in and out once, and then again.

Nightly fingers of air tugged at his dark golden hair as he turned to face the King. Your Majesty, He knelt. Placing one arm over the other as he rested them on his knee. I'll ask my questions now. He raised his head. Recognizing the growth and ability in Lady Delphine of Mulhouse, I ask again, to be relieved of my mantle of Marshal of the Blackmane Paladins. For it be given to Lady Delphine who is more than deserving and capable in my eyes. He nodded once. Then, I follow up by asking that Dame Lorelai, whom has shown great potential. A sharp mind ready to continue to take a more prominent role in military matters, is granted, the position of Vice Marshal of the Blackmane Paladins. He nodded again.

If it pleases you, Your Majesty, I shall endeavor to continue to offer guidance where I am able. Both on your councils and to the Armies. Perdan is rich. Its people are a wealth beyond measure and I wish to honor them. It is my solemn hope you will permit me to do so in this way. With that he fell silent. Awaiting the judgement of his Sovereign Master, the King.

Pryde

4/28/2020

Benjamin turned upon hearing the request aimed at the king. The music went came to an end one instrument at a time, the murmur of conversations died out, and the deck fell silent around him.

He examined the king's odd gauntness and the way he took care of the black cat in his lap.

He aimed a questioning look at his everpresent companions and they met his gaze with a pair of silent nods and pursed lips.

The king had died. He had found peace. That was all he had ever said about his death, before the magical scroll of life revived him. His body. But if Benjamin knew anything about magic, it was that magic had a cost. And it looked to him like something had been left behind when Kay came back to life.

He was still as devoted to Perdan as he always had been, but...but there was something missing in there that Benjamin had never seen again after the day he died.

His companions saw it too. They recognized it. And their pursed lips suggested that they did not like it one bit.

Peregrine

4/28/2020

It was hard to say if the king was enjoying his evening. As he watched the lions and lionesses of Perdan mingle, dance, drink, flirt, argue, laugh, his own facial expression changed very little, mostly ranging from a vacant smile, to a faint frown of a man lost in his own thoughts. Even at the gala he could not avoid his duties as he kept reading missives his retainer brought to his table. As Delphine and Nemean approached the dais, they saw Kay holding a missive in his hands. The seal bore an image of Vix Tiramoran red fox and judging from Kay's face the message was not good.

As they both went down on one knee before him and started talking, Kay put the missive aside. He looked between them with a soft twinkle in his healthy eye, while the milky gem in the left eye socket stared at them judgmentally. He raised his hand, palm facing up, and gestured toward them, allowing them both to make their case.

They talked. He listened, but his mind also started to wander. Each voice bringing memories and thoughts. Delphine, she was a bright and lovely child when she first joined his court. Now she was a woman. There was strength in her arms, grace in her slender body, and scorching fire in her eyes. It burned too bright, dangerously so. He knew this fire as he once carried it himself. She can not contain it. Will it burn those around her, those who get too close to her fiery heart, just as it burns the enemies? Nemean, the scion of two lions, two worlds. A son of many parents, none of which was a good father. Perhaps the whole was greater than the sum of two parts. But so far those two parts seemed to clash and undermine each other. He was not quite whole, at least that was what Kay believed. Kay first saw him on the field of battle, riding beside his mentor Selenia. He immediately knew this young man possessed a great capacity for good and an equally great capacity for evil. Who was he, a leader or an outcast? A hero or a villain? A brilliant success or a gut-wrenching failure? Kay had no answers, but he was curious to find out. Perhaps this was a large part of what kept him going.

Kay knew why they approached him. He did not see the slap, nor did he hear the preceding exchange. But he knew. And certainly they did not need his guidance in this matter. He knew he was only a fixture that was there to help the two youths get through their personal drama. So frivolous to him but so real and burning to them. They needed a figure of authority they could lean on to feel strong and safe enough to work their misunderstanding out like grown ups. And so he listened. In Delphine's speech Kay heard a request directed not to him but to young Nemean. Nemean also heard it, it seemed, for he immediately did what he should have done weeks ago. He praised his pupil, announced his decision openly and asked Delphine's opinion directly, involving her in the decision-making process, which was no small thing.

As young voices quelled, Kay kept a long pause, gently stroking his cat. Finally he cast his gaze down upon Nemean and responded in his usual official voice, deep and carrying. "I grant your request, Ser. You are relieved from your duties as Marshal of Blackmane Paladins. You served me well. But I will not conceal my disappointment. I bestowed a great honour on you, elevated you among your peers. But you wish to give it back. So be it."

Kay extended his hand, meaning to receive the Marshal's badge back from Nemean.

"Are you satisfied with Ser Nemean's explanation, Margravine?" Kay then turned to Delphine. "I will now ask you publicaly, in front of your peers, do you accept the promotion? Do you, dame Lorelei?" Kay's eye searched the crowd for the lady of house Chamberlain, as while she did not seem to have such close personal relationship with Nemean, she was unfortunately involved in the entire kerfuffle too.

Poe

4/28/2020

Lucius flirted his way through various crowds before finally standing alone once more seeking who he needed to speak to.

The noise of the room was long gone, lost within the thud of drums as his ear drums came close to splitting and finding himself lost to the music one again. There was once a time this would only happen during battle but that time has long since passed and Lucius certainly knew why.

"It's nearly time" he stuttered wiping blood from his cheeks.

Lucius turned and finally found the person he was so desperate to find.

Poe

4/28/2020

There he was.

The man who could hear it too.

Lucius often thought the music was his gift alone not knowing it's touch can be felt in many different ways....that was until that ill fated day. Lucius tried to step forward but was quickly put to his knees by the sudden cacophony of sound that shattered his eardrums.

For it to end it must have begun the sound of death is yours to hum Taken too soon by fate itself Returned to us but half himself The price to pay was a golden ring that was the story of the ill fated...

"King" Lucius shouted struggling to his feet, trying to get the mighty King Kay's attention.

Noire

4/28/2020

Dustiria listened to Delphine and Nemean and understanding dawned. She nodded with approval. As the king spoke her eyes shine with pride in her liege. She hooked her arm through Kenneth's so when he was ready he could escort her around. She knew he had made plans for them tonight and as of yet had no clue what they were.

MacArbin

4/28/2020

And with the mystery resolved, Kenneth nodded, and whisked Dustiria away before she, somehow, got dragged into another duty. As they strolled away from whatever scene of embarrassment or glee was to come, Lea caught his eye and he leaned in as she whispered, one finger idly twining around one of the ribbons on Dustiria's shoulder.

"Lady Aila is in a quiet corner enjoying one of the minstrels, Dunstan I think, black dress with pretty blues, and her family's silver falcon. The Viscountess is wandering, purple-grey satin dress, silver trimmings, white and purple flowers in her hair."

Kenneth smiled, and slipped another silver over.

"Nicely done, and my thanks!"

He would wait for the signal from the Duke that the main performances should begin, but for the moment, he wanted to just enjoy a drink and bit with his lady. He snagged a couple of glasses from Lea's tray before she moved on, and passed one to Dustiria before lifting his own in a toast.

"To a wonderful night, and better company!"

Willowvale

4/28/2020

A hooded figure gazed from within the ornate carriage that had arrived to its final destination. The travel had been adventurous in sight seeing and idealization of the surroundings. Adel did enjoy a good little exploration now and again. Arriving upon the gala's settlement caused a bundle of nerves to clench within her belly, a nervousness she hadn't felt for a well and long time. Fingers danced along the carriage handle until the handle had been turned from the other side, and her door promptly opened by her Coachman. "M'lady." Lithe fingers slid into the large and worn palm of the Coachman and Adel slipped from the enclosed space and into the fresh air. "You are too good to me, Rogar." She had realized he pulled up to the pathway of the Gala so she could go right in, rather than exit the carriage from another point and would handle the carriage on his own. She often liked to assist, but tonight was different she supposed. Roles were persistent.

She watched Rogar return to the carriage bench, which bent beneath his hefty size. Rogar is not a large man by an unhealthy standard--the man was simply too solid and heightened for the average build of the carriage they took. She snickered at the sight and waved as he road off to handle the carriage and the stallion that pulled them, then turned towards the Gala entry. Adel immediately recognized her attire to be contrast to the unintended theme of the evening, but she supposed it wouldn't do too much harm. She came from chilly origins and because of this had requested fabrics that let her breathe. The ivory dress hugged around her shoulders with tight ornate and crystalline lacing, then loosened at the breastbone to give way to thin layered translucent fabric. There was no shape sutured to the dress, the translucent fabric simply flowed floor length from the breastbone freely in layers so that as a whole, the dress revealed nothing beneath it. Out of self consciousness Adel also dawned a floor length ivory lace cloak. The hood was heavy and tightly woven so the lace showed no features through it, masking her face for the time being, but allowing her to see where she went. The cloak was pulled close around herself as she head for the innards of the Gala and could relax a little. Once within the prestigious vessel, she let go of her cloak so that it hung loose around her shoulders, but kept her hood over her head, features hidden. She toiled with her invitation in her fingers, groomed lengthy nails running along its seam to play with the weathered flap of the envelope. Just from the sound alone, she could tell the Gala was alive and well, which gave her the confidence to slip in unannounced and find an unintrusive position to drink the scenery in.

Belmont

4/28/2020

Salem is having an easy time sobering up. Reno is death warmed over. The young knight holds quite a few nice conversations with mingling party-goers. His sister is barely holding down some chicken. Though while she maybe deep in her cups, her tiny hat is still on her head. All positive things have to start somewhere. She slurs her speech as her 1000lb head rolls over to Salem's directon.

"I'm never drinkin again."

"You keep saying that. Yet here you are, wearing a death trap that squeezes your liver."

"Uh-uh..I'm done. Forever and a day."

"Well, you're eighteen now, and even if you only live to be nineteen...That still a long time without consuming a liquid that lakes you angry at nothing. I'm telling you, I couldn't do it."

"Uuuugggggghhhhh...."

"You're a brave soul, little sis. We will remember ye well."

"Pissssss...Your legs."

"Close enough. Look, let's have you lay down somewhere and I'll see about actually socializing with people."

"If I walk, I'll die."

"Even better! Let's go!"

The Knight walks his poor sister around the ship, looking for a room he can set her in to lay her down for a bit. Upon his return to the party, he looks around, ready to socialize before shrugging and having a seat right back in his drinking corner.

Noire

4/28/2020

She snatches a drink from a passing tray raising an eyebrow at the Bloody Stump business cards. Dustiria shivers as Kenneth plays with the ribbon on her shoulder and listens as he is fed information. Eyes bright she raises her glass for his toast and she adds, "to you my love the best company there can be." She sneaks a quick kiss to his cheek and watches the crowd around them.

Belmont

4/28/2020

Albinism...The Knight of the Bridge had heard of it, but never had seen someone born with it. This was an almost exciting first for him, despite his expressionless poker face. 'What an incredible way to be beautiful' he thought to himself 'don't be rude. Don't stare'.

He put his focus on his mug, spinning the liquid within, but not taking a sip. It was in the moment of sobriety that he realized how often he drinks alone. Never. Well, it was time to put an end to that. He was careful on his approach to the new face. A miriad of greetings swam in his mind as the gap grew smaller until he eventually found himself within a respectful distance of the new Noble woman. With an outstretched hand, he speaks.

"You look elegant, miss. My name is Ser Salem Belmont. I remember reading of a new noble family here in Perdan. I take it that you are Dame Adel? Could I interest you in something to drink and perhaps someone to drink with?"

De Montigny

4/28/2020

She is one of a sparing few. Learned faster than I could've imagined. If you thought I did a lot you're sorely mistaken. I must heap praise onto her shoulders. She's been an integral, I hate that word, part of the Blackmanes. He touched the edge of his cheek with his thumb. A beating heart. Strong, unflinching and fiercer than a growling bear disturbed during hibernation! And far more beautiful! I shall not forget to mention that. - Nemean JeVondair Renodin

Delphine listened to Neman's praise, each sentence making her straighten her shoulders and raise her head a bit more, she couldn't help it. The appreciation was real, it always had been. He was a man of many words, but did not toss compliments freely, this was always an honour. It was then that he finally said the words outloud, the one she wished he had spoken weeks ago to her, the one she wished he didn't now.

"It is why I petitioned the King for his permission. To replace Delphine as Vice Marshal. To suggest Dame Lorelai for the position. To relinquish my own position as Marshal. To bestow that title upon her capable shoulders. … Recognizing the growth and ability in Lady Delphine of Mulhouse, I ask again, to be relieved of my mantle of Marshal of the Blackmane Paladins. For it be given to Lady Delphine who is more than deserving and capable in my eyes. - Nemean JeVondair Renodin

She squeezed the fabric of her dress from where here hands lay on her knees, would it not have been made of such quality silk, it would have certainly torn from the strain, her white knuckles were testament. She could feel her heart pounding, the beats echoing in her head from the drinks. She slowed her breathing down, calming herself, waiting for the king to respond. The crowd stood quietly around, all waiting as she, holding their breath. The deck that was full of noise and laughter backed by the sounds of many different instruments just moments ago now stood still.

"I grant your request, Ser. You are relieved from your duties as Marshal of Blackmane Paladins. You served me well. But I will not conceal my disappointment. I bestowed a great honour on you, elevated you among your peers. But you wish to give it back. So be it."

It was now official, her mentor, her friend, was no longer Marshal of the Blackmane Paladins. Once again the thoughts came back, how could he do this to her. Was it that she was sad to see him leave her side or afraid he would no longer be there to help catch her if she stumbled. It was a new void certainly for her, but also for the realm, one that would not be easy to fill. She would certainly try as she laways had when presented with new challenges.

"I will now ask you publicaly, in front of your peers, do you accept the promotion? Do you, dame Lorelei?" -King Kay Peregrine

The kings words pressed heavily, she already knew the answer, she had made the decision days ago when the raven came, but to speak the aloud, to the King, to everyone ... to Nemean, would seal the deal. There would be no going back after this. Delphine wiped the tear that was being held between her lashes, trying hard to conceal it, making it look as if she was scratching an itch or shoeing a bug. She took a deep breath and raised, slowly, standing tall taking presence despite her slightly inebriated state. It was easier raise then she had expected, the moment sobered her up quite a bit to her surprise. As her legs reached full extension, she snapped her head back to raise her chin high and toss the dark strands that had gotten out of place back with the others. She took one final breath holding it in for a long minute before letting it out again to bring things full circle.

"I, Delphine of house de Montigny, Margravine of Mulhouse, accept leadership over the Blackmane Paladins as their new Marshal. I also fully endorse the nomination of Lorelai Chamberlain, Dame of Aix, to second me in my duties as the army's vice-marshal."

Delphine couldn't help but raise a brow, she turned to where she last saw the young knight, looking for her new vice-marshal. It was at that moment that the alcohol finally cough up her again, causing a moment of dizziness. As she stepped forward to catch herself, her arms extended instinctively in hopes of bracing a fall. Her hands found the table and slid forward knocking plates and goblets all around, sparing the king but dousing the royal cat in spilt wine.

Everlight

4/29/2020

She wore on her face a look of concern and guilt. "Sir Nemean and I have a tumultuous history, in fact I believe I asked him not to speak to me again, to avoid situations like this one." She took Isana's hand, it was warm in hers, as her voice softened towards her companion, a far stretch from her previous tone. "I... Just don't want your evening to be spoiled by my issues with the man or wasted on errands for someone you owe nothing to, for I know you said you were looking forward to tonight." - Alyssa Kingsley

Blonde tendrils of hair swirled in front of Alyssa's serious countenance, which had gone from bright and flushed to somber, frustrated, and full of shadows. Isana smiled at her companion, wrinkled her nose and shrugged. She squeezed Alyssa’s hand reassuringly.

“It’s little bother, dearest. History cannot be changed, and an evening with you in it, cannot be spoilt.”

Her voice was low and earnest under the din of the night’s entertainment. She searched those tumultuous blue eyes and saw Alyssa start to relax again at her words, slips of frustration drifting away on the breeze. Isana nodded, holding her gaze, then arched one brow with a smirk of returned good humour and slowly, oh so slowly, looked over one shoulder to see where Sir Nemean had departed. He was long gone across the deck, already in animated conversation with one whom she could only assume was Delphine, and the two of them were making their way to King Kay. The King’s presence was formidable as ever on this evening, cat and all; he could handle an energetic Prince. Sir Kenneth was in the process of extricating Dustiria from the encounter, and the minstrels were beginning another song.

“Mm, seems our presence may not be needed after all,” the dark-haired knight murmured in feigned surprise. “I am grateful to have more insight into the character of that one. He has perplexed me once or twice.”

She turned lightly back to her 'charge', gave a wink, and a gentle tug on their clasped hands. 

“Let’s get all the way into the gala, shall we, my Lady? We can keep an eye on the dramatic sir from a distance, should he be ruffling any more feathers--or is that excessive? Anyway, let’s go see Dame Dustiria. Sir Kenneth looks in excellent spirits, and his Grace is much too close to the, er, goings-on; we can see him later. What do you think?”

Kingsley

4/29/2020

Alyssa gave a confident nod as she took Isana's arm. "Perhaps for the best. I admit my feathers are often ruffled by that man." Glancing back at the Duke who was watching the whatever scene was unfolding intently, Alyssa could see that he was indeed near the center of the crowded scene. She bit her lip in thought before turning once more to Isana.

"Though we must see him before the night is finished. And the King as well. It would not do to snub either of them, we are expected at some point." She noted diligently. "But for now yes Dustiria would be happy to see us I think."

They walked together easily towards her knight, the sworn Blade of her colours; and her beau the Lord of the neighboring Earldom. As they stepped to leave Alyssa secured a goblet of wine from the tray of a passing server and took a lady-like sip from it which earned a smirk from her companion. From behind the goblet Alyssa flashed a quick smile to her in return. She held close to Isana to keep from separating as they navigated the large throng of guests that covered the deck of the ship reaching at last the Lord and his Lady knight, her knight.

She released Isana's arm and stood stiffly at practiced ease, giving the couple polite smiles as she greeted them.

"Lord Kenneth. Dustiria."

Chamberlain

4/29/2020

The youthful mirth had drained from Lord Prydes face. His fingers gripped the arms of the chair, knuckles flushing white. His companions shared the briefest of concerned looks then all three stared past her to the central dais. Restoring the pearl drops to her ears she turned her head following their gaze. The Lord Marshal and Lady Mulhouse had seemingly taken their quarrel to the King. She shook her head in dismay that the King should need to be involved in such a dispute.

For his part the King had an eerie stillness, grey beyond his hair and sallow in a way that life would rarely condone. Briefly his prolonged stillness and the alarm of Lord Pryde caught the very breath in her throat and she thought he may have passed, but as he slowly brought his gaze to her mentors her alarm subsided. She turned back to Lord Pryde: "My Lord!" She chided,"you had such grim aspect I thought the King had died!"

Lord Pryde yet looked past her, his face showing a turmoil that disturbed his spirit. She crouched before him: "I came to you seeking a man who in stories had become a legend, I sought you as a mentor of sorts, but I am hopeful that I have perhaps found a friend..." she froze, the King had called her name, turning reluctantly she stood.

"My Lord, thankyou for your time and humour, as the days follow, if things become a challenge, please call on me if there is anyway I may help" she squeezed his hand sadly. Turning to his companions she declined to patronise them with the Elven salute, instead simply nodding her head to each: "Lothron i thilivern nimloth gar- cin in hen emel."

She turned, running her hands down the front of her gown and made her way to the central dais.

Goldwater

4/29/2020

Jacelyn waited a few meters away, and when the discussion ended, quietly approached prince Nemean.

"Your Highness? May I ask, after all this, is it still possible for me to become your student?"

All of a sudden, Jacelyn could hear a weird sound behind him, followed by a loud noise of falling plates. As he turned around, he saw lady Delphine barely standing on her feet, clearly about to fall down. The young knight quickly jumped towards her, picking up a chair in the process. "Ooh, careful, my lady. I suggest you would sit down for a bit." with these words he placed the chair behind her and carefully seated her in it.

Fontaine

4/29/2020

Delphine couldn't help but raise a brow, she turned to where she last saw the young knight, looking for her new vice-marshal. It was at that moment that the alcohol finally cough up her again, causing a moment of dizziness. As she stepped forward to catch herself, her arms extended instinctively in hopes of bracing a fall. Her hands found the table and slid forward knocking plates and goblets all around, sparing the king but dousing the royal cat in spilt wine.

Duke Smiddich was too far away from the table to do anything but stare at the scene. He had not expected such spectacle or ceremony, but he was pleased to see Delphine and Lorelai empower themselves in the military command. He funneled as many new knights as he could into the 'Paladins, but he had to admit, Sir Nemean had made that difficult. Part of him wondered what mischief the knight would get up to without the mantle of Marshall to keep him grounded. Still, the need for a second army was obvious and perhaps now, keeping it populating with knights would be easier.

The Black Bladed Duke gave some pointed glares at the footmen and women who even now were milling about the scene, picking up spilled goblets and replacing soiled placements with clean and dry. The cat had hissed and made a dash beneath the table, and two serving staff were apologising profoundly for inconveniencing the King by searching underneath.

The Margravine had been escorted gently to a nearby chair and was being dabbed with wet cloth about her face and dress, the serving lasses apologising profoundly for any indignity.

Smiddich caught a waiter by the arm, "Have the Lady Delphine escorted to the Master suite", he said, surely and without questions brooked, "She may use my own amenities". The footman nodded; it would be so.

Willowvale

4/29/2020

There were a couple of different notable occurrences catching her attention--she felt as though her head were a pendulum as she looked to gaze upon the two scenes before her. She had almost missed the approaching subject, almost, and turned just a hair shy of his voice being heard.

"You look elegant, miss. My name is Ser Salem Belmont. I remember reading of a new noble family here in Perdan. I take it that you are Dame Adel? Could I interest you in something to drink and perhaps someone to drink with?" -Salem Belmont

Her head had remained at a lowered angle as she looked to his hand. There was the briefest of swirling symphony of the noises of the evening, thoughts, and memories plaguing her while she stared--for the briefest of moments for him--but an agonizing minute for her. She blinked, then dared to glide her milky hand into his before her knee bent to allow a slight bow in respect. "Ser Salem." There is a thickness to her accent, something mild, as if she were losing a heritage-based birth to her voice. Her tone is instead more smooth, if given an analogy like a warm buttery honey. She did remove her hand once given the allowance, slipping it beneath the lace cloak. Again she felt as though she stood for what felt like an eternity despite the shy flit of a moment that passed. Introductions were always her weak suit (in her mind.)

She did not remove her hood, she felt uncertain what this may cause. Already she had witnessed a healthy case of shock value and didn't want to add to the cup for the moment. She was uncertain if indeed her albinism was a known feature, and just how much was known. She had been to places that were indifferent, and had traversed spaces that hunted her kind for heinous means. "I worry about the drink, right now." She admitted though. She didn't particularly note any of the happenings around them, she was just admitting her hesitation to get right to it. "Though, if water is present, I would delight in this. I have admittedly neglected this during my travels." She felt a little embarrassed at that, but he seemed kind thus far and perhaps he would guide the way better than her eyes could. In fact, she knew he would, but she wouldn't admit that.

Beneath the hood she smiled though, even if he wouldn't see it yet.

Chamberlain

4/29/2020

She insinuated herself through the throng, side stepping fallen goblets and fried produce, until she stood next to the Ex Marshal. Lady Mulhouse, perhaps a little overwhelmed by the mantle of her elevation was ushered into a chair by Sir Jacelyn. The King for his part seemed more interested in the whereabouts of his cat than her arrival.

"Your Majesty, I am grateful for the..." he barely gave her a glance: "Your Majesty?" Her cheeks flushed red, as he continued intent trying to coax the cat back to his perview. She huffed out her cheeks looking at Sir Nemean knelt beside her. "Your hand, if you would?" On pure polite instinct he brought his hand to hers. Stepping out of her shoes she hopped onto his knee and from the to the table.

"Nobles and betters!" She announced, "I am Lorelai of Aix, lioness of Perdan, some of you I know," she made a mental count of embarrassingly few, "some I will in the coming weeks be making it my business to know... I have been done the great honor of being offered the badges of the Vice Marshal of the Paladins, and I have been asked by our King for my oath. And I give it... not just to His Majesty, but to you all. We will work together and we will grow. The Paladins our my Pride of Lions, and we will be the pride of Perdan, this is my oath."

She stepped lightly from the table to the floor via Sir Nemeans knee. Stepping back into her shoes she turned again to the knight as he got to his feet. She smiled at him: "So how do I address an ex-Lord Marshal? I have heard a slap to the cheek is the latest convention, but why spoil a pleasing..." she stopped abruptly. "Hold that thought."

She ducked down and turned back to the King. Thrusting the moist melting creature into his lap: "Your Majesty, your cat."

Peregrine

4/29/2020

Everything went smoothly right until it became apparent that Margravine was too clumsy or more likely already too drunk to be admitted to polite society. One sharp movement and she lost her footing. Dulled reflexes prevented her from regaining it with grace. Plates and goblets went flying in the air, their contents being sprayed around. Midnight was startled by both the ruckus and the splash of wine that ended up on her black fur. She bolted under the table with a loud anguished yelp and instantly disappeared.

"Watch your feet!" The king boomed toward the crowd, fearful that someone might unwittingly step on the royal pet. "Find her!" A brisk order was given to his retainers and younger knights. "You two. Carry Margravine away." The last request was directed specifically at Nemean and Jacelyn, who stood close by.

Kay did not give Delphine the Marshal's badge before he dismissed her. Nor did he offer her a second glance.

Peregrine

4/29/2020

Yet before Kay's mood was ruined beyond repair, Lorelai made her appearance. She gave a passable impromptu speech but most importantly she has found his cat.

As the poor beast assumed her usual place in his lap, still shaking and meowing, the king finally took a small swig from his own cup. All this commotion apparently agitated him somewhat.

"Well said, Dame Lorelai." He finally responded. "I have no doubts concerning your appointment."

Pryde

4/29/2020

This time it wasn't only words coming to fast to understand on the fly. It was events.

Benjamin watched the chaos with eyes that saw everything and a mind that simply could not process everything fast enough to come to a conclusion on what he should do.

So he did what he normally did in such times. He stepped back to the nearest wall to open the way for faster thinkers to act.

His companions looked to him, ready to do precisely that.

He raised one hand to hold that companion in position near him. He touched one with the other before aiming a finger at Lady Lorelai.

That companion faded into the crowd to take up a position at the young lady's back should she need any aid.

The other helped him hold the wall up as he stayed out of the way to let his mind analyze the chaos around him. It would take time. It always did.

But he would see everything. He would know everything. And in time, he would understand how it all fitted together.

Then he would act.

Noire

4/29/2020

Dustiria smiles as Isana and Alyssa approach. She returns the greetings, "Dame Isana, Alyssa, " she says warmly, "you both look lovely tonight. Thank you Isana for escorting her. Kenneth is about to join others I believe to entertain us. Would you mind me joining the two of you and watching his performance with me?" She leans forward showing a mischievous side of Dustiria usually only Kenneth sees, "see what trouble we can get into since he won't tell me anything about what he is up to" she smiles back at Kenneth,"tsk tsk such secrets love." She takes another glass of mead from a passing server.

MacArbin

4/29/2020

Kenneth smiled as Isana and Alyssa approached. He had always enjoyed his meetings with Lady Isana, and always looked forward to hearing from her. And the Imperatrix, of course, was hardly a presence to be missed.

"Imperatrix, a pleasure to see you! And you of course, Lady Isana, a delight as always, and I must say I quite enjoy your colour scheme, having a weakness for emeralds. I see you coordinated your outfits well, the white with a splash of emerald on the one, and the emerald with the splash of white on the other, an excellent effect."

He lifted his glass.

"A toast, perhaps, to a bright splash of colour in our lives? It comes too rarely, but is perhaps all the more valued because of it."

MacArbin

4/29/2020

The drink had evidently gotten to him more than he realized, as he discovered he was talking over Dustiria in very poor form. He shook his head, smiling in contrition.

"Apologies, dearest, you first. And I have hopes that the surprise will make up for the secrets!"

Belmont

4/29/2020

"I worry about the drink, right now." She admitted, "Though, if water is present, I would delight in this."

She's shy Salem, and possibly on the defensive. Get her some water and figure out a way to make sure she's comfortable. The Knight of the Bridge half-smiled, lowering his head in a respectful bow. As far as he was aware, this young noble came here alone. She might believe that she has to keep up her appearance. Avoid drinking, or anything that would cause a scene. Stay in one place, back to a wall with an exit in sight. All the things Salem does, or at least tries to do, especially with his little sister here. After the nod of his head he speaks.

"Water is a great idea, actually. I should be slowing down on the mead and switching over to water."

He offers his arm, albeit subtly, and says, "I'll be happy to escort, if it pleases you. The drink master can be an awful flirt at times. Also, I simply must know where your accent is from."

Salem himself was a horrible nobleman. He spoke like he was still working the apiaries and wearing his barn clothes, though he was never one to fake who he is. The former farm hand didn't really have anything to hide, especially not from a peer.

Poe

4/29/2020

It had passed.

Lucius can't remember the last time the music manifested itself so fiercely, his faith in Leandra had kept it at bay for long and in his moment of decadence it had returned.

"I know what i must do" Lucius thought to himself as he watched the King deal with a situation he would much rather stay out of.

he grabbed another drink and began to recite the teachings of Leandra to himself hoping to regain control once more.

"I must protect the weak and defenceless and seek to vanquish evil wherever it is found" he muttered as he blended in with the crowds of people.

Goldwater

4/29/2020

"You two. Carry Margravine away." The last request was directed specifically at Nemean and Jacelyn, who stood close by. Jacelyn towered above lady Delphine for a moment, unsure about what to do next. "Can you walk, my lady?" he asked her "I hope so, yes..." The newly appointed marshal stood up, but far too quick and suddenly, bringing back the same dizziness as only a few minutes ago. "Oh no, not again." Jacelyn catched her in the last possible moment and made her stand straight. He looked down on his missing arm, and threw a quick glance towards prince Nemean. "Your Highness? Would you mind helping me with her? I am not as capable without my arm."

Nemean was just standing up, with a painful grimace across his face. "Did you see that? She stepped on me!" he muttered when he had approached them "I am used to a lot of things, but I have never been stepped upon." The two men supported lady Delphine, one from each side. Nemean pointed at the nearest servant and whistled to catch his attention "Hey, you! Show us to the Master suite. And be quick about it!" And so they travelled through the boat, the servant leading the way closely followed by the trio.

Finally, relief in the form of door to the suite emerged behind a corner. Not that they would have problems supporting her. She was light and both the men were trained fighters. But all of them already drank some wine, ale or whatever was being served on the ship. Jacelyn could even remember a cup of rum, being served on the lower decks. This, and the fact of Jacelyn's useless arm made the task much more complicated than it was supposed to be. "You can go, we won't be needing you anymore. Take this coin for your trouble." Jacelyn sent the servant on his way whilst the prince opened the decorated door. Inside, they seated lady Delphine in a chair and backed off towards the exit. The two knights exchanged a casual look, after which Jacelyn spoke up, looking Delphine straight in the eyes "We will go now, my lady. You can rest for a while, the duke allowed you to use this room. Shall we send you a maid or two?"

Willowvale

4/29/2020

"Water is a great idea, actually. I should be slowing down on the mead and switching over to water."

He offers his arm, albeit subtly, and says, "I'll be happy to escort, if it pleases you. The drink master can be an awful flirt at times. Also, I simply must know where your accent is from." -Salem Belmont

Admittedly there had been a slight hesitation, if only because she had been distracted by the tail end of the situation near the King. Yet his offering had been accepted and Adel soon slid her arm through his to be guided towards the refreshments. “I suppose it is a concoction of different things.” She offered in answer to his curiosity. “The small sect I hail from all have a tone.” She mused. Her fingers had taken to toiling with the fabric beneath his arm absentmindedly and once they had reached their destination she had not quickly parted, taking the time to gauge the space before she loosened from his hold to touch along tabletop.

“I presume after drinks we should probably say hello to our Mighty.” She supposed. She had smiled beneath the hood, she was by no means trying to avoid this Ser Belmont, nor did she assume he had or hadn’t said hello the the King and Queen, but she could admittedly lose track of time and formalities when enjoying such events. “It seems to have been an interesting eve, thus far.” She then let out, and it was clear in her tone she was teasing.

Hensley

4/29/2020

Elinor continued to exchange one glass for another, letting the warmth of the mead fill her. The throng of nobles around her sparkled and gleamed as they drank and chatted. Everyone looked so happy and Elinor smiled herself, enjoying the borrowed camaraderie, the sense of almost belonging.

A clattering contretemps near the King drew her attention and her free hand to her sleeve...but, it was just an accident, no need for concern. She could continue to admire the finery and jewels, the beautiful men and women, and the snippets of conversation that she was sure was witty and erudite if she had but heard the whole of it.

She felt good. More, she felt...slinky. Maybe tall. Was she tall? Had she grown longer and leaner? Her eye line on a man's chest suggested that no, she was still rather short. But she *felt* tall. And so slithery. Like a cat. Which was silly. Her people were horses. It was right there on the banner.

Elinor stood still and blinked. She looked about for a moment and then eased her way over to a side table and set down her half-full glass. She could be a tall, slinky cat and perform. She might even be *amazing* and probably glittery. She could not be any drunker, though, or she would be the contretemps.

Fontaine

4/29/2020

The captain’s suite aboard the ‘Gambit was generous in size and luxury. Occupying the space beneath the highest deck to stern, this private quarter was sumptuously appointed and had no doubt been preened carefully for the event.

Where the gallery and stateroom boasted bold artifacts, the items installed within the suite were more personal – tribal items from exotic lands, a worn cutlass on a leather belt, a dish full of seashells, a section of flag framed in glass. Boasting the same dark, stained timbers in a pleasing vault, the rear of the cabin looked out over the river through leaded windows and a short door leading to a small balcony; the bed was hidden from immediate view by a paper and bamboo screen, hand daubed in ocean colours and a striking swordfish. The suite was lit by a single glass lantern hanging by a chain, alighting the room with crystal shapes.

The staff were quick to install the Margravine into a comfortable chair or to sit on the bed as she desired. Another stuck her hand into the wardrobe to partition the hanging clothes; a generous selection of the garments were ladies dresses, robes and coats. “In-case milady wishes to change her outfit”, said the assistant helpfully.

The remainder of the clothes were fine coats, shirts and trousers of a style the Duke typically wore, along with boots, belts and other accessories. The assistant poured a measure of water into a dish before she excused herself to wait outside unless she was called.

Storme

4/29/2020

Lady Tempest was a little stung by Aila's most recent letter. It seemed the fair Lady Storme was developing some bite of her own even if it was more direct and less subtle. Still as result Luna wanted to make her next reply something special for the Lady from Perdan and she had just the idea.

High in the mountains of Evora Lady Tempest would capture a majestic white falcon as a gift for Aila and more importantly to deliver Luna's next letter. The Grey Exarch had some experience in falconry but only with eagles and not actual falcons. Still it would not take Lady Tempest long as she only had to train the beautiful bird to deliver a single letter to a sole dame.

The night of the Gala:

Aila leans against the railing of the Wayfares Gambit taking in the evening gala when a single falcon swoops down and lands right beside the lady. Startled, Lady Storme spills her wine on the gleaming deck before turning to face the bird in silent shock. Standing tall and proud the bird looked her right in the eye, as if on a mission. Glancing towards the falcons feet a letter was visible. A letter sealed with purple wax stamped with a displayed eagle. The Eagle of House Tempest.

The Letter:

Dearest Aila

I quite enjoyed your last letter, so much I just had to get you a gift. I hope you love the beautiful falcon that is now by your side. A proud majestic bird from the peaks of Evora. I have never trained a falcon before so I was quite surprised by how easy I found the task. Probably because I have falconry experience taming eagles so naturally if one can tame the kings and queens of the sky one can clearly tame the knights as well.

This most majestic bird is named Luna, as its pure white plumage is as pure and brilliant as a full moon. It seemed only fitting. I hope this bird will serve you well. Luna is a loyal, fierce and wise bird, I expect she will never abandon her master as I trained her for you and only you my lady Aila.

I hope you will think of me every time you see her.

Yours,

Lady Luna Tempest Grey Exarch of Shadowdale Dame of Evora Marshal of the Shadow Legion

Belmont

4/29/2020

From behind the paper that hides the suite's bed, tiny snoring can be heard. If anyone pulls the curtain, they will see a young woman, face-planted into the pillow with her butt sticking in the air. Her boots we almost off her feet, indicating that she tried her best. But the most impressive piece of this scene was her tiny tophat, still resting on her white wig.

Belmont

4/29/2020

Salem leads Adel to get refreshments, listening to her with great interest and a smile on his usually dull face. He's patient, relaxed, and seems to be in control of at least his own person. He flags Bruce for some water for each of them before answering her teasing.

"This is just the start. There isn't anything about Duke Smiddich that's not interesting. And if you haven't met him yet, you are going to love his Majesty. He is easily a man worthy of the trials we endure as his knights. But right now, it is you who has piqued my interest. Just by hearing your voice I can only imagine the stories you have to share. And only if it doesn't trouble you, I'd love to hear those stories, Dame Adel."

With a careful motion of his arm, he gestures for her to see the many available places to sit and enjoy the upcoming festivities. His other hand was offered to her, palm up and fingers slightly curled, asking to be taken.

Storme

4/29/2020

Silent shock turned to silent horror as Aila put the pieces together one by one... A beautiful white Falcon, the letter, the seal. Aila had no fear of falcons, House Storme were falconers in Dwilight and so were they on the East Continent but her fingers trembled all the same as she freed the letter from the Falcon as it stood still at attention as stout as any soldier.

Lady Storme dared not look around herself, unwilling to discover any shocked onlookers; with any luck no one had even noticed this giant bird land silently next to her on the rail like a ghost in the night. Without a letter opener she simply ripped around the seal and opened the letter to read- lips pulled into a serious expression as her eyes darted over the familiar handwriting.

When she finished her hand snapped to her side with the letter crushed in a white knuckled fist, thoughts of embarrassment were forgotten as she looked the falcon in the eye with the bitterness only a woman scorned could muster. Luna...The Grey Exarch was a Falconer, a better one then Aila- Head of House Storme- House of Falconers-.

And she named it Luna.And it was more beautiful then any bird she had ever seen a Storme master. And it was now here with her at a gala and seemed to have no intention of leaving her side, its keen eyes piercing her very soul. Yet it wasn't those eyes that sent a chill down her spine in the end, it was the realization that somehow Luna had knew exactly where she was tonight. Memories of foreboding scout reports just before their last battle came to mind, and suddenly Aila was wondering if this was something she should bring to a Marshal.

Willowvale

4/29/2020

Again, she found herself looking to this Ser Salem’s hand of offering. What he sought was a tale she wasn’t sure she was willing to share, yet she found herself slinking her fingers yet again into his grasp in acceptance of this venture. “Soon we will say good eve to The King?” She did let out. It was briefly stated, for she took a sip from her water as she went with him to a seating nearest them, and began to speak as if finally letting loose some of the deeply withheld troubles.

“Technically, I would not be here.” She admitted. She swirled the water in her cup, watching it briefly before continuing. “But our family needed to spread its wings, and I was given the opportunity to leave the home. My folk are..” she paused then, there was a clear hesitation as the swirl of her cup had ceased. “Well, I’m sure you’re aware.” She rubbed her hand along her own arm briefly, then took a sip of her water.

“For as many as there are of those who treat us well enough, in the shadows there are some who...seek our...attributes for their gain.” She wasn’t sure if it was an understood description, or if she had just said a confusing statement. “Our class holds no weight in our safety from such people.” She admitted.

Belmont

4/29/2020

As they sat across from each other, he listened to what she had to say, noticing her slight hesitation. Her words made sense to him, and while such knowledge can be worrysome, especially for a young woman such as herself, he understood why she didn't seem to mind sharing it. This was her life, and people can only hide from the darkness for so long. He felt it necessary to reassure her, though he knew she didn't need it from him. A Garçon came by with a bottle of wine. "Would either of you be interested in Pinot Noir?"

Salem answered with a show of his palm, quickly sweeping under itself with zero eye contact. It meant, "No". And the Garçon got the message, moving on from the two.

"Whatever Gems that lay hidden by the hood of your cloak need no explaination. As far as my intentions may go, the only thing I plan to leave this ship with, is a new friend."

His eyes turn to Kay Peregrine and a smile finds itself back on his face.

"I shouldn't keep you from meeting his Majesty any longer, Dame Adel. Would you like company in the queue to speak with him?"

Willowvale

4/29/2020

Honestly she was surprised. She shouldn’t be she figured, but she still felt it. He is quite the friendly one, and it was a fresh breath of air to experience. She visibly deflated as the last of her tension left with this new security, and she nodded in the end rather than back tracking to share more. Perhaps, in due time, she would show him the details of her woes, before the woes uninvitingly announce themselves in the possible future.

“Why, saying hello to His Majesty would be nice to do.” She agreed. She did quite enjoy meeting others, and to meet the King she has come to look up to gave her a sort of subtle giddiness. Playfully—which couldn’t be stressed enough—she was first to stand and offer her own hand to him, and because she stood at a higher angle, the smile on her lips could be seen.

“Ser Salem~” She purred gently, though when they would be on their way to the queue she retook her place as the feminine facet, than the masculine. During their wait, she could finally see the aftermath of the earlier commotion.

“Oh dear.” She whispered to him, using just her pointer of the hand holding his arm to direct his site. “What have we missed?”

De Montigny

4/29/2020

The moment passed quickly, the last thing Delphine could remember was spotting Lorelai taking something from the elves that accompanied Lord Pryde. Although she could still feel the effects of the alcohol, it was certainly not that that caused her momentary blackout, but the stress of the events and their culmination allowing her to relax, the deep breath maybe held a little too long, and the sudden rush of blood that followed suit. Now she was sitting in a chair held by... who was it? As sound and image slowly came back, she could see it was Jacelyn tending to her, she also noticed the mess around. Embarrassment swept over her like a tidal wave when she saw her new vice-marshal hand over a soggy cat to the king. He did not seem amused, and did not hand her the Marshals pin. All she had to do was stand there for a few minutes and everything would have been fine, would the king change his mind? This was all Nemean's fault, the man she hated to love.

The comments around seemed to suggest that excess drinking was probably the cause of her tumble. Though less gallant, for some reason that seemed like an accepted excuse for the events that had just unfolded. She decided to play along, just to get out of there. She let herself be supported by the two knights, it felt nice to feel the warmth of the two men carrying her, each caring for her in their own way.

Jacelyn, though less impressive than many others men, was still a knight and battle trained, providing him with more then enough strength for the tsk at hand. Using his good arm around her waist and his shoulder to hold her up, he walked with her, careful not to be inappropriate. He was trying so hard to impress her, she had to admire the effort.

Nemean, could have easily taken Delphine on his own. He either came along to keep an eye on the boy, or wanted to spend a little more time with Delphine, in case it was his last. Or simply wanted to make sure she was treated proper by the staff and cared for in a way that was up to his standards. He always out of his way to make sure she was comfortable when they traveled together, this was no different.

As the stewards lead them away, she was glad to have a little break, this had already been such a night and the main events had not even started. The dim lit captains suit was quite the contrast to the bright festivities outside. The chair they sat her in was quite comfortable, delicate but sturdy. It looked old, with a lot of history. She nodded to the men as they left her, closing the door behind them. She would have like their company, it felt nice being care for. She hadn't been with a man since becoming a knight, not letting anyone close. When her men would be relived and tour the brothels, she would train either her sword or the war exercises left by her Marshal. She wanted to be a great knight. Then when being appointed Margravine of Mulhouse, she was caught up in learning the workings as a state official, planning the rebuilding of the region.

She got up from the chair, her legs wobbled a little, but she found her balance much quicker this time. Her dress was smeared with sauce and drink, covering parts of her arms and chest. She removed the fine dress, unlacing it and letting it fall to the floor. She dipped a cloth in a bowl of water that had been left out for her to clean up. She slowly washed off the muck while staring at herself in a large looking glass nearby. Her once perfect porcelain skin was now spotted with bruises and scars from battle, it wasn't easy for the women to be knights, but Perdan was blessed with many of them, as strong in battle as any man. She also noticed that her slender body that was once that of a child, was now much more defined. She was already a tall for a woman, but the toned curves now helped elevate her even more. She finished wiping off the last of the sticky sauce from her chest, the cool breeze that entered the room gave her goosebumps causing a sudden shiver.

It was time to pick out a new dress, the duke seemed to have outfits for every occasion, as she was going through the wardrobe she could her noise from behind the paper screen. She walked up the bed out of curiosity to find a young woman passed out. Was she one of the dukes or someone elses leftovers? Judging from her peculiar state, they never made it any further than where she lay. Delphine pulled off the boots, placing them on the side of the bed, then carefully removed the silly little hat and wig, hanging them on a bedpost. She rolled the girl over to free the blanket and cover her up so she would not be cold. Right then, the girls eyes opened to a naked woman above.

Kingsley

4/29/2020

As they spoke Alyssa's polished smile returned to her typical distant expression. She raised her glass alongside the others to Kenneth's toast, but said nothing, her mind instead occupied with toasts of the past, giving Isana a fond look as their goblets all clinked together. Alyssa raised her eyebrow at the two of them as they stumbled speaking over one another, Kenneth nobly acquiesced to his lady. Her comments though playful did seem concerning as Sir Jacelyn and the ex-Marshal just walked by with a weary and exhausted Lady Delphine in tow.

"You may join us, Dustiria," Alyssa began somewhat sternly as her eyes followed the knights helping the lady, "however I believe there has been quite a bit of trouble tonight already, I do not think it wise for us to add any more." With the King aboard now that was the last thing that was needed. By the look she saw on his face he seemed disinterested in the entire affair, the one remaining eye he had lost in some deep concerning thought. While he had been more aloof since the death she caused him, this seemed beyond that. A intense focus instead of darkened cloud. She could tell he was not vacant, wandering wherever he went before, as it seemed he sometimes did. The King was here tonight, and something was concerning him. We will definitely see him tonight. She decided. But she did not wish to neglect Isana. She had been so excited for the evening and she would not forsake her. Alyssa was determined to enjoy the gala and although Nemean had intruded upon them earlier, she would not allow it to spoil their night.

"I am not certain where we will go to watch the performances yet, though I suspect the upper deck might give us a good view while keeping away from most of the crowd." She nodded confidently. That would do. She was already feeling emboldened, though it was perhaps the wine she had just finished, she took Isana's hand and motioned for Dustiria to follow. "Lord Kenneth, I don't wish to make you late for any preparations you've made. I'm not sure when the Duke intends to begin things, but I would like to see if we can find a good spot ahead of time. Thank you for the toast." She turned to lead them up the stairs onto the ship's upper deck, but stopped after only a step.

"And Lord Kenneth." She said glancing at Dustiria. "We shall be good company for your lady, I swear it. I would also like to speak with you when you have the opportunity." She gave a curt nod and continued towards the stairs to the landing above.

Everlight

4/30/2020

Isana smiled broadly at the welcoming words of her friends as they tripped over each other in their enthusiastic greetings. She raised her (currently sadly empty) goblet in return salute, and blushed a bit at Kenneth’s comment on the noticed colour palette. She agreed with Sir Kenneth, and thought they looked a striking combination.

“Of course Dustiria, my pleasure entirely,” Isana said in response to the Dame’s thanks. “I hope you’re both enjoying the evening with its--sundry--entertainments?”

[Sir Kenneth] lifted his glass.

"A toast, perhaps, to a bright splash of colour in our lives? It comes too rarely, but is perhaps all the more valued because of it."

“Hear, hear!”

Isana followed Dustiria’s lead and nabbed a glass of mead from a passing tray in time for the toast. There was a delightful wisp of deja vu on the air. She looked sidelong at Alyssa and gave the slightest wink as the glasses clinked together. The mead was delicious, rich yet light in flavour with a hint of spice.

Ever the planner, even when we’re not on a battlefield! Isana thought fondly as Alyssa began to plot out their next course. The Imperatrix was focused, analyzing the gathering's patterns in detail and choosing her ground, apparently not at all impaired by the wine.

"I am not certain where we will go to watch the performances yet, though I suspect the upper deck might give us a good view while keeping away from most of the crowd." She nodded confidently. That would do. She was already feeling emboldened, though it was perhaps the wine she had just finished, she took Isana's hand and motioned for Dustiria to follow. "Lord Kenneth, I don't wish to make you late for any preparations you've made. I'm not sure when the Duke intends to begin things, but I would like to see if we can find a good spot ahead of time. Thank you for the toast." She turned to lead them up the stairs onto the ship's upper deck, but stopped after only a step.

"And Lord Kenneth." She said glancing at Dustiria. "We shall be good company for your lady, I swear it. I would also like to speak with you when you have the opportunity."

Isana grinned in good spirits and looked to Dustiria, giving a shrug of her shoulders as her gloved arm was drawn towards the stairs. “Seems a good idea, please do keep company with us! I’m interested to see what your beau has in store, Dustiria.”

Noire

4/30/2020

With a hasty kiss to Kenneth's cheek she follows the happy pair, "I do wonder what he has planned myself," she says to Isana, "and if my presence is too much of an intrusion just say the word and I will leave you and Isana alone Alyssa." She follows behind a discreet distance.

Renodin

4/30/2020

The big thing was over. Though it wasn't really, he pondered quietly on the way to the Captain's room. T'was a bit awkward finding their stride as the trio navigated the way. Jacelyn went into the rooms themselves. Himself he felt a certain apprehension at crossing the threshold. Delphine was there but it wasn't that. He saw the old items and they were like a warding charm. The Duke had known his father. Breath escaped his mouth. He wanted and he dreaded. His former vice marshal was seated on a chair from another age. The one armed, young knight tended to her. Fussed was the word that came to mind. He immediately shrugged at that, it wasn't bad that he did.

His hand had come to rest on the frame of the door. Deep mahogany and strong. Noticing it he withdrew it. Two of the Duke's servants joined Jacelyn's care of the Margravine. Nemean nodded at that, she was well cared for now. In a low timbre he ventured. Jacelyn, I'll be going. A statement that strangely held qualities of a suggestion. Wrapped in a single breath. The ocean offered a cool breeze inviting him to turn and he acquiesced. It refreshed him as he inhaled. Slowly walking off into the warm gloom of the ship.

His feet carried him until the sounds of the festivities grew more defined. Coming to a halt he sighed. He looked back over his shoulder. It was just darkness and golden light spilled from lanterns. Turning to face the ocean he rested his hands on the gunwale. Sliding them across the wooden surface as his mind worked. The corner of his eye crinkled as he glanced in the direction of the gala. Before casting them downward. A fisherman without a bobber in the water. The longer he stood there the more it grew on him. The quiet was nice. Making himself comfortable he leaned on his arms.

The gala can wait. He thought dismissively. The King hadn't been happy with his decision. Not when he first penned it and not this evening. The spot on his chest where the Marshal's badge had been didn't feel empty. The absence wasn't liberation either though. Not that he had expected that. The military still had need of him, maybe. He added the word as a safety precaution. The King had also known. Just like the Duke. When were they going to tell him about Asher?

He pushed the thoughts aside, it only led to anger. The fluttering image of Alyssa passed his mind's eye. Her's and Delphine's. Was he mentally filtering through the military commanders of Perdan? He consciously thought of Rogos and then of Ulric. Not sure what to make of it he waved his hand in an attempt to scatter the strands of his musings. He peered out into the blackness of the night. Straining to hear what moved beyond. Troyes, Eponllyn, Xavax. In a word, Family.

He felt like having a drink. Turning to rest on his right arm he looked in the direction of the gala. Why didn't a servant just magically appear just about now. Would you like a drink Prince Nemean? He mockingly said to himself. Why yes I would. Mimicking the motions of taking a glass. Excellent stuff! He pretended to take a mouthful and swallowed. Unbidden he sighed, deeper this time. From someplace high above a soft melody glided down. Just audible and it made him still. Gentle notes carefully coaxed from strings, by a heart more hurt than his own.

Fontaine

4/30/2020

As the altercation was being tidied up, Duke Smiddich gave a few curt words to his stewards; the gala part of the evening was about to commence. The minor lordlings, merchants and hangers-on were excused to the lesser parts of the ship or ejected completely, their opportunity with the highest echelons of this nation, spent.

Great sections of the deck above were removed by swarthy stevedores and stowed; these would usually have allowed goods and supplies to be craned into the hold, but instead they let in a cooling breeze and substantial moonlight. The ship bobbed a little in the wake of the tide as the Duke took to a small platform facing the main chamber, well opposite the furthest table where the King was seated.

The pirate knight had removed his jacket; he wore a sharp black shirt with a silken band wrapped around his waist, silver rings glittering on his fingers. Despite his age, the Duke was trim in the waist and broad in the shoulder, and when he commanded the attention of the assembled throng, he got it.

"Knights of Perdan, her King and Council! Thank you, and welcome to the Wayfarers Gambit. I am overjoyed to have you join me here for a celebration, long overdue. What was meant to be a simple gathering in appreciation of the arts has turned into a magnificent evening, the envy of any nation!"

Nearby, waiters are refilling and distributing measures of a sparkling drink; a toast. The Duke continues, "The return of this vessel to my charge - and to Perdan - signified a substantial turning point in the long war we have fought. Never again shall we let the North dictate our freedom or culture! For we are the Lions of Perdan!", he issues, and a murmur of agreement spreads through the crowd as he lifts his own goblet.

"To his Majesty, King Kay, I say, À Perdana!" "To his council - Alyssa, Benjamin and Lucius, I say, À Perdana!" "To our Marshalls - Ulric, Rogos, Delphine and Lorelai, I say, À Perdana!"

With each statement, the lions roared their agreement, each louder than the last,

"To you, my bold and magnificent knights!", he says, more quietly, solemn and with an earnest wetness to his eyes,

"À Perdana!"

Fontaine

4/30/2020

The Duke stepped down and peered up at the band members through the great opening in the deck. He gave them a "go ahead!" motion and the three piece band struck up a dance number that permeated and reverberated through the gallery.

Tables and chairs were being pushed to the side or folded and stowed to make space on the dark timbers; any knight of Perdan would recognise this as a spirited national partner dance, with the lads on one side and the ladies on the other.

They would approach each other, touch hands (or other places, if they were familiar), spin one way and then they other, hand themselves to a new partner and then retreat. It was a whirling tumult which often resulted in giggles, but nonetheless a stomping good time, especially for the partnerless couple ejected at the end of each verse; they had to rush back to the other end through an archway tunnel formed by the raised arms of the other dancers and their partner.

The Duke himself was offered a violin from a servant waiting nearby; he retook the stage and joined the band midverse, his boot tapping the tempo in time. The masterful Margrave of Perdan City was an accomplished fiddler, and this was his contribution to the Gala. Faster and faster, he played them through a dozen turns before playing the final reel - the partners turned, bowed to their partner, to the King, and then the Duke, before falling over themselves with laughter and exhaustion. The Duke handed back the instrument to be whisked away, and joined them.

Storme

4/30/2020

Aila spun around, he back to the conspicuous bird as the Duke made his toast, she raised her glass with his and declared with the others in an attempt to hide her new party guest " À Perdana!"

The moving of tables and chairs after the toast in preparation caused a loud clatter that startled her new bird, a loud screech turned Lady Storme back around where she had to apologize for the beast already as one of the Dukes men reeled back in fright at the threatening cry and huge flapping wings that reached well past a meter in their span. "Ssssstop! Shhh, bird"

Helpless to stop it without making more noise she in no discrete way whistled with two fingers, rendering the Falcon silent at last. She turned to the man simply trying to work "I am so sorry about this... Damn that Luna Tempest!"

Peregrine

4/30/2020

Kay watched the Duke of Blades fondly. His face always brought back the memories. When Kay was a boy, no older than Alyssa, or Nemean, or Delphine, the realm uderwent a great upheaval. King Asher, Nemean's father, passed on and Perdan entered a period of interregnum. Kay dared to run for the crown against Asher's wife, Queen Glory. Not out of sheer ambition but because he firmly believed her foreign policy decisions spelled doom for his realm, which was still embroiled in a coninent-wide war. And in the end he was correct. But in those uncertain times not many supported Kay initially. His love, Viscountess Rhiannon, was his first and staunchest supporter and accomplice. But Smiddich was the close second. Smiddich, who was Asher's household knight even before they both arrived in Perdan and who Kay considered to be a Queen's man. Well-connected and favoured at the court, Smiddich believed in the young future king and pledged his loyalty to him. Kay never forgot this and in the following years he offered the duke every favour imaginable.

Kay scooped up his pet and stood up to drink to Duke's toast. "À Perdana!" He bellowed along with the others, offering his own toasts as Smiddich finished his speech and the crowd started shouting out their own cheers. "To the Lions of Perdan! Long live the Rampant Lion!"

The cheers were soon quelled by the preparations to the first round of dance. And as the musicians struck the first chords, Kay sat down once more to get back to foreign correspondence. He went through many a scroll, bearing images of foxes, wolves and lions on their seals. And as he read, his brow steadily furrowed. Finally, he beckoned a retainer and told him to find the members of the realm council and tell them that the king needs them to attend to him at once. A cruel king he was, for his councilors did not have days-off.

Peregrine

4/30/2020

This letter Kay shows to his councilors as they arrive at his table.

Report from Daedalus Dogsbody

(Personal message to Kay Peregrine) - 4 hours, 47 minutes ago

King Kay,

Provided the pre-conditions are met, we have voted to join with Perleone. One hath asked King Gaheris for next steps.

Referendum Results

  4 hours, 38 minutes ago 

The referendum "Vix Tiramora Consolidation Act", initiated by Lord Vixir Daedalus Dogsbody, has ended. Here is the final tally:

8 votes for yes 1 votes for no 0 abstentions 3 votes were not cast.

The winning choice is therefore yes, with 8 votes.A simple majority was required (i.e., 1 votes).

As a reminder, the full text of the referendum was:

Vixens, please now vote on thy preference.

Both of these merger options shall respect Vixen autonomy by enforcing the following:

A) Vixen duchies of House Graethe and House Liberty will maintain autonomy through a Vixen to be elected amongst the nobles of said Duchy. B) The territories of the Vixen duchies shall include or lay claim to: Partora, Montauban, Woolton, Eldoret, Bursa, Castle Ubent, Ar Morsul, Moyale, Abadan. Region commands in the Vixen duchies will be voted upon by the nobles of the Duchy. The Duke will respect this vote unless the vote is overruled with good and demonstrated cause by the King. C) The signatories agree to hold and maintain the above regions and recognize Vix Tiramora as one of its legal successor states. D) Perleone/Yssrgard commits to fighting Sirion, Shadowdale & Eponllyn and work with Perdan to achieve a mutual peace which Perdan accepts. When hostilities have finished, a close beneficial relationship shall be attempted with Perdan & Yssrgard/Perleone.

Vote ‘Yes’ if thee wish to join Perleone with conditions A-D above, plus the following conditions: i. Isadril to be returned to Yssrgard and Peace be made as a pre-condition of our joining. ii. Capital to be either Castle Ubent or Ibladesh, subject to a Referendum in Vix to decide. iii. A Vixen to be appointed Prime Minister for a quarterly term, subject to a Referendum in Vix to decide.

Vote ‘No’ if thee want to join Yssrgard with conditions A-D above, plus the following conditions: i. Isadril to be returned to Yssrgard and is made capital of the realm. This would most likely mean joining in Yssrgard and Caligus' War against our Ally Perleone and taking the City by force. ii.) The alliance with Caligus shall be reconfirmed. iii) The signatories also recognize only the claims of Yssrgard to the duchies of Orgeon and Horde as well as the claims of its legal successor states.

Vote ‘Abstain’ to retain the Status Quo as an independent nation.

Daedalus Dogsbody Lord Vixir of Vix Tiramora Royal of Vix Tiramora Duke of House Grathe

Kingsley

4/30/2020

Alyssa walked across the ship with purpose, her white gown flowing behind her as she walked. She took a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself for the meeting with the King. I was not easy to speak to him, to look upon his scarred and tired face, his distant expression knowing that all of it was her fault. The white stone in place of his eye had no pupil, but she could feel it gazing into her soul, an incessant reminder of what she did, the failure she wrought and the price he paid on her behalf. She had expected to see him tonight, but she did not expect him to summon her.

Crossing the deck, she arrived before the King, nodding to her former liege Lord Benjamin and the ever curious Lord Lucius garbed in an garishly enormous hat. She was no expert on fashion but she felt confident enough that such a thing was not in vogue.

They each knelt before the King of Perdan as expected of them. She dared a glance up at him on her turn, she could not read his eye. She wondered what he was thinking, for he had been reclusive since his death in Brive. She did not feel much left of the fatherly warmth she once felt from her king, from time to time he would give her an approving look or nod, only after Bescanon did she truly feel his pride in her. But mostly it was the cold burden of guilt and responsibility she felt around the King. The memories of failure and despair, knowing he suffered daily at her hand.

If he intended to give any of them any more than duty tonight she could not see it as he handed the letter to them, giving it first to Lord Benjamin who passed it to her. She read the letter and handed it to Lord Lucius, her mind ticking with this new information.

This could change everything.

Kingsley

4/30/2020

Alyssa returned to the upper deck after meeting with the king, taking her place back at Isana's side. Her thoughts swirled as a mix of emotions overtook her. Uncertainty, excitement, concern. She offered a brief fond smile to Isana and a nod to Dustiria as she returned to her place. Leaning over the railing she watched the Duke give some speech she paid little attention to, her thoughts elsewhere.

"A Perdana!" The crowd all cried in response. A second late, Alyssa muttered the words softly without thinking.

Possibilities turned in her imagination. Visions of brotherhood and valor, visions of death, visions of a burning manor house, a crow pecking out the eye of a young boy, bright banners flapping proudly, the clash of steel, the thunder of hooves, and a dream of peaceful spring. Each thought passed as quickly as it arrived; the possibilities ran through her mind as pleasant music came up from the deck below, people laughing and dancing, spinning their partners in time as the wheel of fate spun in her head as well, peace and hell twining together into a knot of uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

Belmont

4/30/2020

Reno's eyes opened gradually. She didn't take being moved as a disturbance. She was used to her older brother finding her laying around in the strangest ways, and carrying her to bed. So when her eyes did open, she was calm. They found Delphine. Her fair skin, her icy-blue eyes, her raven hair. For once in her life, Reno thought she had finally done something right. That an angel has come from on high to love her and make all of her problems disappear. She had never felt a lover's touch from a man, she was gay after all. And while she was no stranger to another woman, she wasn't expecting someone who could have passed as a goddess.

"Please..." She started slowly "Please tell me this is no dream...That in mere seconds I will be encapsulated in the greatest moments I may ever feel...You are beautiful."

She reaches out a hand. Gentle. Careful. She wanted to feel this ray of holy light that shined on her. She wanted to cup her soft hand around such immaculate beauty's cheek and know for certain that this moment was truly happening.

Belmont

4/30/2020

“Oh dear.” She whispered to him, using just her pointer of the hand holding his arm to direct his site. “What have we missed?” -Adel Willowvale

He takes in the scene for a moment. There were scattered goblets that were being cleaned by crewmen, and his majesty was sitting with a...Oh. Poor kitty. Salem squints. In his mind, he's completely amused. Never a dull moment. He turns his head slightly to whisper back to the fair woman on his arm.

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, it appears that his majesty's feline friend is a connoisseur of..." He sniffs the air "...Cab Sauv."

His attention is taken by the gathering of Alyssa, Isana, Dustiria, and Kenneth. He only listens long enough to note that they'll be making their way to the upper deck. Turning back to see Kay, he wonders to himself. I don't think he's in a good mood...Maybe greeting one of his newest knights will at least get a smile out of him.

"À Perdana!" He bellowed along with the others, offering his own toasts as Smiddich finished his speech and the crowd started shouting out their own cheers. "To the Lions of Perdan! Long live the Rampant Lion!" -Kay Peregrine

Huh. Maybe he is doing well. Wait...Isn't that my battle cry?

Willowvale

4/30/2020

While Salem seemed deep in his thoughts, Adel had began to pay attention to the different circumstances around her. Noting faces, gauging the different—Sorry was—was that a bird she just heard.

Adel turned, catching a glimpse of a woman reigning in a messenger falcon. She seemed quite attuned to this moment and frozen in place until she chirped up while giving his arm a firm shake. “I—why, I think I know that one!” She let out. Not the falcon, but the woman. Adel then looked to her current companion, and amidst the chaotic surrounding, she found herself putting more trust in him than she would have in any normal circumstance. Her hands lift to her hood and she lowered it, but did not pull her hair from within the cape, considering the wild thing not too far away. She wanted to be recognized upon approach after all.

“Come with me, Salem?” She asked of him. Her brows knit, her heart raced enough to hear her beats in her ears, and her finger tips tingled. Could her old friend be at this Gala? Small world, it would truly be.

Goldwater

4/30/2020

Jacelyn stood on the lower deck and watched the scenery of the bay. Behind him, he could hear the music - the dance must have already started. He sighed. With lady Delphine resting and prince Nemean being nowhere in sight, there wasn't anything he would do. He could return to the city, a brothel maybe? No, definitely not. Duncan, the squire of his, is probably getting drunk at their inn. He could join him. They could both get drunk, wander through Perdan with clear sky above their heads. No, he should return to Meuse. His unit is freshly recruited, without him they would soon kill each other over a woman or raid a nearby village. But for now he must get off the ship. The rest can be solved later.

Jacelyn headed towards the music, with intentions to apologise to the host for leaving so early. But when he arrived, he could not find him. Oh, there he is. Swarmed with a number of nobles and their daughters. Dancing with many girls, clearly enjoying the moment. Jacelyn stepped back into the shadow and pulled out a piece of parchment, toring it in half. He hastily scribbled a few words on each half and summoned a nearby servant.

"Hey, you. Deliver these letters for me, please, The first one to the duke and the second to lady Delphine, who should be in the captains chamber right now. And don't mess it up. I will know and when I come again, you better not be anywhere near. Here is a little something for your trouble."

Jacelyn handed over the two letters and a gold coin, enough to motivate the servant. He threw a last quick glance towards the gala, before turning away and leaving the ship via the gangplank. He threw a small coin to the stableboy as well, took off his heavy pourpoint and slowly walked beside his horse towards the city gates.

MacArbin

4/30/2020

Kenneth was mildly nonplussed at being summarily relieved of his lady, but Alyssa's parting words caught his attention. Alyssa rarely bothered herself with trivialities, which likely meant this was important. That, to his mind, suggested either something regarding his relationship with Dustiria, or with one of the diplomatic matters, both important in different ways. He nodded somewhat gravely back to her, then smiled somewhat back at Dustiria as she moved along.

However, it seemed the Imperatrix's timing was prophetic, as it often was, as he saw the Duke's people shepherding away all below the rank of Knight. He joined in with three lusty "À Perdana!"'s along with the rest, and a fourth that was a little quieter but no less intense. And then...The dancing started. He laughed and clapped along with the tempo as the Duke took center stage with his fiddle, and then he saw Elinor in the crowd. She was looking fantastic, and as Dustiria was off for the moment, he indulged himself with a quite appreciative look before he made his way over to her and bowed, smiling.

"Viscountess, you look lovely this evening! Might I have the honour of a turn through the dance before we find our third and begin our own performance?"

Belmont

4/30/2020

Music filled the air. The dancing had begun. But Salem's attention was elsewhere. His new friend had exposed her face, trapping the Knight of the Bridge in a moment of awe. She asked him something, but he wasn't paying attention. He simply looked at Adel, mesmerized. With a nod of his head to her, he said, "Er, yes! Absolutely!" Not having any idea what he was agreeing to.

Hensley

4/30/2020

The warm happiness that surrounded Elinor had felt almost like a shield; Kenneth’s sudden vivacious appearance felt almost like an assault. She blinked at him a moment in consternation before returning his bow.

Eye contact, smile, use their name, compliment, ask a question, let them talk. She could hear her mother’s voice as if she were in the room. Obviously Kenneth had had the same training. Take a breath…

She raised her head and looked up directly into his interesting cinnamon eyes and smiled. Compliment. “You are looking very shiny tonight, Sir Kenneth.”

Ask a question… Ask a question…She opened her mouth to definitely ask something sensible about region maintenance or party planning, “Do you wish to dance with the second-best dancer in Dimwood?” Meraud would say third-best and by “Dimwood” she really meant the small number of petty nobles and wealthy yeomen that passed for society in the country but really, who is counting anyway and she was at a party, dammit, and she really needed to see how her dress shimmered to music.

Elinor held out her hand. It would have looked almost imperious but for the way her smile slid from social blandness to impish grin, “If you can keep up.”

MacArbin

4/30/2020

Kenneth's smile shifted to match Elinor's grin as he took her hand. She was clearly enjoying herself, and that was the best sort of partner, even leaving aside

"Well, I should be shiny, after all of the good Duke's gifts! As for keeping up..."

He moved into the far line, leading her into the near as the began stepping in time with the Duke's fiddle.

"I am the third-best dancer in Farrowfield, and I won't stand for that jack-a-pan Damian saying otherwise!"

He spun into the reel, his braid whipping behind him as he moved through the steps, laughing from the joy of it all. And why not? There was the dancing, the finery of the assembled crowd, and a lovely partner. As he finished his dancing around her and stamped in place while she danced around him, one hand on his, he waved cheerily at the party on the upper deck, spotting Dustiria and giving a broad wink before turning back into the next pattern.

Noire

5/1/2020

Dustiria watched the Duke fiddle and the people below dancing. She mentally pushed away the stab of jealousy she felt as she watched Kenneth clearly having a grand time dancing with another woman. after all she didn't know how to do that let him enjoy it with someone who did....just not too much. She caught his wink and waved at him and wondered what his suprise was later and why Alyssa wanted to talk to him.

She turned to Isana and Alyssa, "it looks like those below are having a good time. " She looked at the pensive Alyssa, "is something wrong Alyssa? " Dustiria asked concerned

Noire

5/1/2020

Bruce watched as the servers and their trays ciculated the crowd. He smiled at a noble woman that he caught checking out his muscles . He started to wave her over when Lea interrupted. "All done Bruce. " She said

He smiled wide "good!"

At the gangplank when guests left now stood two men one on each side per Bruce's instructions. Each would hand a departing guest a tiny bottle of this week's mead sample for the exclusive patrons of the Bloody Stump. Tied to the neck of each was a card with information about the bloody Stump. "Maybe his grace will give me a bonus for this idea or my lady. " He thought as he winked at the noble woman that had checked him out "now to make tonight a bit more interesting"

Everlight

5/1/2020

Isana spent several enjoyable minutes getting to know Dame Dustiria better. As much as she could, anyway, while distracted wondering why Alyssa and the council had been called for a surprise meeting with the King. The mead was delicious and entertainment aplenty, enough so that the time was passing pleasantly. Then the Duke was giving a rousing speech. His words were simple and powerful and Isana felt herself stirred along with the audience by his words.

A familiar presence caught on her sixth sense, and she turned to see Alyssa ascending the last stair. Relief washed over her: it had been a short meeting, hopefully nothing too serious. Isana felt her brows relax and her face curve into a welcoming grin. The Imperatrix gave a fleeting smile and joined her at the railing, all classic grace in her simple white gown, strong arms as perfect as a statue's in the soft glow of mingled moonlight and torchlight. The world slowed for Isana. Warmth glowed within. She was in her chosen homeland, surrounded by those she held most dear, enjoying an evening of festivity and creativity for all to share.

"À Perdana!"

She joined in the raucous cheers. They were like a forge’s bellows together, the peers of Perdan, and the whole ship trembled and roared with their voices. Yes!

A quiet muttered echo of the cheer found her ear, and she turned curiously to see her Lady leaning slightly over the railing, looking at nothing in particular, obviously deep in thought. Isana saw conflict in her face; mouth set in a line, blue eyes lidded and far away, eyebrows almost pleading.

She wanted to wrap her arms around the woman, bring her back to the present, chase away the spirits and responsibilities that haunted her even at a celebration such as this. The woman held whatever she was fighting with to herself, clamping down on it so as not to bother anyone else. It is incredible what she handles, Isana thought, even as her heart ached for her. She bit her lip and, instead of the hug, reached out one hand in its long, deep green opera glove to gently cover Alyssa’s on the railing, silently offering support for whatever it was that had so transported her.

She turned to Isana and Alyssa, "it looks like those below are having a good time. " She looked at the pensive Alyssa, "is something wrong Alyssa? " Dustiria asked concerned

Daubeny

5/1/2020

Apollyon was overwhelmed, the party had quickly picked up and all around him many things were happening. He had always held a disdain for crowds but he had hoped the Gala would be quieter. He sighed and shuffled off into a quiet corner, he pulled out his lute and idly played the same tune in his head.

De Montigny

5/1/2020

As the young girl woke, her words came out softly as if flowing down a meandering river.

"Please..." She started slowly "Please tell me this is no dream...That in mere seconds I will be encapsulated in the greatest moments I may ever feel...You are beautiful." -Reno by Salem Belmont

She slowly stretched out her arm in an attempt to caress Delphine's cheek. The thin fingers grasped at air, wanting... yearning.

Delphine did not react as the eyes grew wider and more awake, taking in the naked woman standing near, the dim glow of a lamp flickering behind her creating a soft aura. Delphine was not shy, neither for men or women, why would she be, it was all natural, she had nothing to hide. She stared a moment back at the child, how old was she? At least 18 or she would not be allowed onboard.

"Shhhh, it's alright, I'll take care of you." Delphine did not speak one more word.

She kissed the girls hand and again on her forehead, before helping her close her eyes with a soft motion of fingers across them. As she looked at this frail helpless girl, beautiful hazel eyes that called to her, the short brown hair that gave her a slightly boyish look, and soft ivory skin, similar to hers, that wanted to be touched. Delphine could not help but wonder what it would have been like to give into the young girls' request.

Delphine gently pulled the covers over to keep the girl warm, tucking her in as a mother would a child. She leaned to kiss her again, this time on the lips, staling a taste of what would not happen tonight, but may some other day.

Delphine returned to the closet and selected a dark red dress. It was less elegant that the one she had come with, but at least it was clean. It was also a little small, but under the circumstances it would have to do. The dress exposed her calf's, raising up to the base of her knees. It was plain yet elegant with a hint of playfulness, wide shoulder straps with a low neckline, showing off her necklace that paired nicely and a fair amout of cleavage for the boys. She looked over at the sleeping girl, and maybe for the women too she chucled to herself.

There was cheering from outside, a series of "À Perdana's!" could be heard, then music and the sounds of may feet on the wooden floors stomping in unison. It was most likely the traditional dance of Perdan that opened every event. It looked like the party was just getting started.

She was felling much better already, despite only being away less than of an hour, the fresh air, change of clothes and of course the water helped sooth her head. As she was finishing up, there was a knock at the door. Delphine opened up to a messenger that had a letter for her. She thanked the boy and shut the door.

Opening the letter she quickly noticed it was for the duke and not for her, how odd she though since the messenger specifically stated her name. It was from Jacelyn, saying he was leaving the party early. Delphine was disappointed at the news. Their evening had been less than perfect, but she was looking forward to dancing, and enjoying the evening with him. Not just because of her promise to Smiddich, but because she was genuinely curious as to what the boy had to offer, he was trying so hard after all.

It was time to head back to the party, she would have to find a new date now too, but first, deliver a letter.

Delphine exited the great master suite. Outside was and older woman just waiting there, how long had she been standing, waiting?

"Can you take care of my dress, have it cleaned and returned to my estate in Mulhouse. Thank you. Oh an can you make sure the young girl is not disturbed, she wasn't feeling well."

The old lady seemed puzzled at the comment, not expecting two women in the room, but just nodded and entered. The Pirate Captains parties were surely always full of mystery, and she had obviously been at his service a long time.

Delphine managed to catch hold of Smiddich as he was walking by, thankful she didn't yet have to go get near the head table where the king sat. Still a little embarrassed of what had happened she smiled politely and spoke up.

"Thank you for the dress and care, I'm feeling better. The wine and announcement was a bit much I suppose. Here, they gave me this letter for you by mistake."

Delphine handed her host the letter from Jacelyn.

Everlight

5/1/2020

Isana spent several enjoyable minutes getting to know Dame Dustiria better. As much as she could, anyway, while distracted wondering why Alyssa and the council had been called for a surprise meeting with the King. The mead was delicious and entertainment aplenty, enough so that the time was passing pleasantly. Then the Duke was giving a rousing speech. His words were simple and powerful and Isana felt herself stirred along with the audience by his words.

A familiar presence caught on her sixth sense, and she turned to see Alyssa ascending the last stair. Relief washed over her: it had been a short meeting, hopefully nothing too serious. Isana felt her brows relax and her face curve into a welcoming grin. The Imperatrix gave a fleeting smile and joined her at the railing, all classic grace in her simple white gown, strong arms as perfect as a statue's in the soft glow of mingled moonlight and torchlight. The world slowed for Isana. Warmth glowed within. She was in her chosen homeland, surrounded by those she held most dear, enjoying an evening of festivity and creativity for all to share.

"À Perdana!"

She joined in the raucous cheers. They were like a forge’s bellows together, the peers of Perdan, and the whole ship trembled and roared with their voices. Yes!

A quiet muttered echo of the cheer found her ear, and she turned curiously to see her Lady leaning slightly over the railing, looking at nothing in particular, obviously deep in thought. Isana saw conflict in her face; mouth set in a line, blue eyes lidded and far away, eyebrows almost pleading.

She wanted to wrap her arms around the woman, bring her back to the present, chase away the spirits and responsibilities that haunted her even at a celebration such as this. The woman held whatever she was fighting with to herself, clamping down on it so as not to bother anyone else. It is incredible what she handles, Isana thought, even as her heart ached for her. She bit her lip and, instead of the hug, reached out one hand in its long, deep green opera glove to gently cover Alyssa’s on the railing, silently offering support for whatever it was that had so transported her.

She turned to Isana and Alyssa, "it looks like those below are having a good time. " She looked at the pensive Alyssa, "is something wrong Alyssa? " Dustiria asked concerned

Kingsley

5/1/2020

Alyssa sighed as she watched the dancers without even seeing them. She felt the gentle touch of a gloved hand on hers, and spread her fingers apart unconsciously as they intertwined with Isana's. The wheel kept spinning until the silence was broken.

"Is there something wrong?". Dustiria had asked. Alyssa glanced first at Isana who wore a reassuring expression, then at Dustiria

"No, nothing." She lied with confident casualness, waving her unoccupied hand dismissively. She did not relish the lie, but it was necessary. They were women of duty they would understand. Still it made her think. Tonight was a special night. They may not have another. The war surrounded them, the north invaded her mind, but they could never take her heart from her. She considered Dustiria for a moment and her idle promise to Kenneth to keep her company. But her thoughts returned to Isana whose sweetness and concern brought her back from her thoughts as it often did. Tonight was a special night. They may not have another.

"Dance with me." She said looking into the blue-green sea of her eyes. It was a question, more than a command. A hope for freedom, a release from the burden of war and the strain of duty. It had followed her even here and it would swallow her if she let it. A few minutes away were all she needed. To be swept away from the grim future she faced ànd the weight of the past carried into it.

"Come dance with me, my morning star."

Hensley

5/1/2020

Third-best dancer in Farrowfield? Did he read her thoughts or did he mock her? Elinor eyed Kenneth warily for a moment but then he spun her into the dance and what was left of the watcher in her brain was silenced at last in the pure joy of the music and the movement. She stamped and turned; she swirled and twisted, deft feet in charcoal leather flicking in and out of her skirts. If the soft-soled boots were not quite the dainty slipper that ought to be worn with this dress, they were the very pair that had seen her aid in the ship’s recapture. Wearing them had seemed fitting. And also economical.

Kenneth had told no lies: he knew the patterns; he kept the time; he felt the music. She could not say she had often had a better partner, and she had assuredly had worse. Her foot gave a phantom twinge remember one clumsy country lordling who had failed to remember any of the steps, but had not failed to step upon her foot. Three times.

The first pattern wound down and then into a second. Kenneth waved up at his lovely lady friend who was watching from the balcony. Why does he not dance with his lady? Should she also wave? Elinor was not clear on the etiquette here. The devil with it: as she took a turn at centre, she waved up at Dustiria herself, beckoning her towards the dance floor.

Daubeny

5/1/2020

Apollyon looked up he noticed the dancing had began he sighed and left his corner, he walked over closer to the dancer and listened to the song being played he recognised it after a moment and joined in walking around the edges of dancers.

A small smile on his face.

Noire

5/1/2020

Realizing she was intruding on something special she makes a hasty departure with the weak excuse, "I forgot something" and dustiria loses herself in the crowd down by the dance floor where she can watch and not be in the way.

Pryde

5/1/2020

Benjamin passed the king's missive on to Alyssa after reading it and nodded very slowly.

His mind raced over the implications as he stepped back out into the party, eyes scanning the revelers as they drank and danced and sang and schemed and all the other things going on.

He catalogued their antics, filing them into different places to keep everything organized in his mind. There two lovers quarreled. Or made plans. Sometimes the two were indistinguishable. Here a con artists plied his trade. There a card shark manned a table. So many scenes flashed throughout the gay gala, so many lives burned in the lamp light as the ship creaked in the gentle waves of their coastal home.

He remembered a time when Perdan was dead. Now the nobility had come to life once more, and they led the nation in battle and in parties.

It was good.

Now if only he could get them to eat some more of that fried chicken. He really didn't want to take it home.

Willowvale

5/1/2020

Perhaps under normal circumstances, Adel would have become embarrassed by Salem's reaction. She was not one for seeking certain attention, not during such formal gatherings at least, but her excitement in seeing someone she had felt long lost in the world's vast travels, his reaction to her revealed features had gone a little back-logged in her mind. She saw he was enamored, but she was excited by the possible reunion--

"Focus~" She teased. She wasn't upset with him after all, amused really. She took his hand and gave him a tug to start leading them both into the direction of who she presumed to be Aila, and when she was close enough to be heard without intruding on the inner space of Lady Storme, Adel paused and lift her hand in an attention seeking wave.

"Aila?? Aila?" She let out, and did a giddy little bounce on her tip toes while doing so.

Renodin

5/1/2020

The pretend wine was no longer enough. Pushing himself off from the gunwale Nemean extended his arms and stretched. A satisfied 'Mhhmmff!' was drawn from his lips. Red, or white? The choice was hard. Quite hard as he spend far too much time thinking on it. Time wasted he could've spend getting either. Walking towards the music a hand absentmindedly ran along the gunwale. Fingers tapping along with the rhythm. Throwing a final glance out towards the darkness beyond the ship, a practical thought came to him. Glad he wore the overcoat. Thinking on what he -could- affect made him smile. It meant he was admitting he couldn't influence everything. He smirked. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone else of course.

The time spend in reflection had wrested free some sort of knot. Pulled at a tiny rock that had been sitting in a vital spot. He couldn't quite explain it to himself but he breathed more lightly. A playful fox was whispering in his ear. The sounds of the gala intensified with every step. The sable edged reflection from the ocean below mirrored a mysterious image of himself. Framed in golden bronze light. He didn't really look at it but he felt handsome. His shoulders squared while his legs fell into a stride more akin to a swagger. Licking his lips he could already taste the wine.

Thinking he's yet invisible to the crowd he makes a sly little dance move, half completed but well enough to have his arms escape the overcoat. Slinging it over his shoulder as he crests the corner. Lazily letting himself plop against the wall, leaning against his shoulder. Shadows danced as much as the Nobles did. It was like standing in front of a bonefire. It exuded warmth, bathing him in inviting scents and life. Sputtering at times and attempting to startle him with the occasional pang. One of the ladies yelped as her dance partner stepped on her exposed toes. Nemean did what he could to hide a huge smile. Looking at the floor was all he could do really until he mastered himself again. Shaking his head looked up.

One of the servants came by. A boy barely a man but well mannered. Nemean raised his chin and grinned. Halt! Unless you bring wine. If you do, give it here. The exchange came natural and so did the wine abandon its spot on the tray. For some reason the boyman waited a moment. The Duke is on the other side isn't he? Nemean said just before he sampled the wine. Swirling a small sip in his mouth. His question was answered with an earnest nod. Yes he is, sir. Not offering more than was asked. An excellent quality in a servant. Alright, this'll do. Nemeaned looked at him, a hint of confusion running across his face which culminated in a tiny squint. Are you trying to seduce me? or waiting for a wine review? He sipped the wine again. Allowing some time for the boyman to know panic. You're neither pretty enough nor I knowledgeable enough about wine. Scoot. That last he said with a genuinely friendly smile but made firm with a flick of his hand. Still holding the wineglass. Rewarded with a smile in return, Nemean was soon left alone.

He inhaled deeply of the wine. Only leaving the bridge of his nose visible for a second. He wasn't really paying that much attention to the wine. Rather he was looking. The people dancing. Who he could spot. He was surprised he could see a fair number of faces in the crowd he actually recognize. One in particular. In all fairness it was hard not to recognize The Poe. The man was probably the most flamboyant of all. A huge peacock feather sticking from his hat. The bright crimson garb and that confidence. That man could make a raging lady bear blush. Nemean felt happy seeing him. Only dimmed when he saw Lucius being called away. It was probably nothing.

Listening to the music and casually enjoying the sight of the dancing Nobles Nemean sipped his wine. Relaxing for a bit. Actually enjoying himself. Occasionally exchanging a smile or a look, depending on who did the smiling.

MacArbin

5/1/2020

As they twirled through the dance, Kenneth lost himself for a time in the rhythm. He had missed this, the revelry, the beat of the music, focusing on matching his companions in something that wasn't a battle-march...

When he reached the end of the dance line and spun off, he laughed from the sheer joy of it all while he motioned to one of the others to take his place. He just watched for a moment, clapping and stamping with the time, until Elinor whirled her own way off the dance line. He was prepared to help halt her momentum if necessary, but she came to a graceful halt with no assistance necessary. He bowed and tapped his chest with two fingers, signalling a touch and concession of a match.

"Well, it seems I must visit Dimwood! If that is what the second-best has to offer, then it has much to teach poor Farrowfield."

He started to look toward the upper deck where he last saw Dustiria and the others, when a name cut through the tumult and caught his attention.

"Aila?? Aila?" She let out, and did a giddy little bounce on her tip toes while doing so.

He saw Salem with someone he did not recognize, but who had to be one of the newer knights, and she was waving toward a woman in black with blue accents and a silver falcon...He blinked. Wait, that falcon wasn't just on her outfit, was that an actual falcon?

Storme

5/1/2020

Is this a bad dream? Aila felt as if she had just showed up to a battle without trousers as a ghost from her past bounded up to her with the grace of a fawn in a meadow, her ethereal appearance along with the white falcons with just moments between them truly made the Lady Storme wonder if she had entered some fugue state thanks to the Dukes liquors. She stumbled over the words "Willowvale?" As she embarrassingly tried to figure out which one she was. Unlike the only child Aila the Willowvale family had multiple, very similar odd looking children two of which were daughters, one of which was friendly and she struggled over a name for an impolitely long time "Adel- You look wonderful".

And that was no understatement, she remembered an odd looking child with white almost translucent skin that was always made a fuss of with veils and covers and canopies, and how she would always laugh at other nobles jokes but tell them to be kind, as they were so kind to her. She was glad now she wasn't one of the cruel children even if she might have laughed along- Because a strange beauty like hers could move men to all sorts- and that was a power Aila could not reckon with.

As casually as she could muster, she motioned to the Falcon that had arrives very unexpectedly "It is a strange bird, be cautious as I didn't train it" she warned, being reminded of her anger again as she looked at the Falcon named Luna. "I had no idea you were back, I hope the reasons for it are cheerful ones" Before her no longer stood the easy to laugh, spoiled singleton of a tiny house. She had grown into someone more guarded, someone who struggled to let the cracks show and at this moment tonight in particular she had a wall as thick as capital's up to try and hide the fact that the enemy general was still taunting her mercilessly and in no danger of punishment for it. Luna the Falcon a token of her failure to kill Luna the Grey Exarch and Adel of Willowvale to remind her that she was alone in it.

Stiffly she moved in to hug her long lost friend, who like so many other nobles followed her fathers travels here and there "It's so nice to see you again, is this one taking care of you?" She asked, in reference to the Belmont man.

Everlight

5/1/2020

"No, nothing." She lied with confident casualness, waving her unoccupied hand dismissively. -Alyssa Kingsley

Isana chewed the inside of her cheek at this. It was the same bravado she knew well. There was indeed something going on, but it was not something the Imperatrix would bring up tonight, nor wished to discuss at all. The dark-haired woman gave a slightly sarcastic lift of her brows, and a single nod, accepting the unvoiced request.

Alyssa looked away from her, blue eyes roving across the swaying sea of dancers below, then came back to gaze into Isana’s with a peculiar intensity.

"Dance with me." She said looking into the blue-green sea of her eyes. It was a question, more than a command.

Isana’s eyes widened and looked searchingly into Alyssa’s, not sure she'd heard correctly. A prickling feeling started along her dark lashes at the wave of mixed emotion those words caused. This could be a dream... She squeezed the warm fingers twined with her own.

"Come dance with me, my morning star."

A fleeting instant of fear was chased away by exultant joy as the request was repeated, and she felt her face break into a wide smile. She heard the slightest pleading tone in the voice, and a promise.

"Ohh, Aly."

The words sprang from her lips, unbidden. Isana drew herself up to full height and gallant posture, and raised her free hand palm up in the timeless invitation to dance, her gaze caught in the depths of those steel blue eyes. She quieted her grin to a more formal expression, with some success; at least she hid her teeth for a moment or two. The strong and graceful hand of Alyssa found hers, and she held it delicately, as though it were a fledgling bird learning to fly.

“As the Lady wishes,” Isana said, sweeping a deep curtsey. She had intended a light tease at their ‘roles’ for the evening, but the words emerged fervent and full of emotion. A radiant smile from Alyssa answered her declaration. As she turned to lead the way toward the music, Isana repeated the toast from many nights ago.

“While we live, let us live!”

She led her fair-haired partner confidently to the dance floor, shoulders squared, Alyssa's hand treasured in her own. They nodded brief greetings to the acquaintances they passed on the busy deck of the Wayfarer's Gambit. An uptempo waltz was beginning as they reached the dance floor. Isana grinned giddily with her lower lip between her teeth as she curtsied deeply again to her dance partner, who echoed the motion with a quieter smile and, Isana thought, a hint of mischief. They had eyes only for each other as they joined the swirling sea of dancers; a graceful moment of green, white, and black amidst the myriad jewel tones of the others.

Kingsley

5/2/2020

Let us live Alyssa repeated in her mind as Isana curtsied fancifully. She couldn't help but smile at the exaggerated gesture. It was the easy thing to do and felt good. A moment in time, where she didn't have to be the Imperatrix, she could just be Alyssa. She took Isana's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Dustiria, would i-" She turned to find the other nowhere near as Alyssa looked around quizzically. Knowing she could find her own way Alyssa thought little of it. Maybe she has gone to dance too. She considered, but the thought faded quickly as Alyssa held close to her knight, enjoying her warmth and poise as she led her gallantly to the main deck where couples danced and laughed and smiled. Let us be them, if only for tonight. There was no war here, no burning village, no butchery or violence. Only mirth and comfort, delight in comradery and purpose. She admired all the smiling couples realizing they were indeed one of them as the music swelled into the opening of a waltz. The pairs rushed to arrange themselves into a circle bowing and curtsying before their partners as the dance began in earnest.

They shared a brief giggle as they fumbled both attempting to take the lead, before Alyssa acquiesced to her partner, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, strong and broad from years of archery; Isana's hand on her back, they joined in the dance with the others, stepping in three-time as the circle twirled around around the dance-floor, each couple twirling as well. Alyssa felt free as her partner spun her, her white gown flowing around her like a wispy white cloud, holding close to her as they whirled around the dance floor. Alyssa wore a content smile. This is why we fight. She had fought countless battles, seen what appeared to be endless suffering. But for this moment, she decided she'd fight every one of them over again. She leaned into her partner as the song finished and the musicians took a bow before preparing one last song for the dance. "Let us live." she muttered, thinking back to the letter she had been shown.

She looked around at the other dancers, most of them lesser knights, but she saw Lord Kenneth smiling brightly alongside the reticent Viscountess of Dimwood. She gave a curious look at that, did Dustiria not go to dance with him? His eyes happened to meet hers and she quickly turned back to Isana, her hand finding its way as it usually did to hers. "Thank you, dearest." she said quietly. Have I ever told her that? It was not just for the dance, it was for everything over the many months they had come to know one another. For shining her light upon her when it seemed darkest.

"They seem to be striking up another dear, did you wish to go again? Or did you want to mingle some more?" She looked around to see if she could spot her liege, her eyes passing briefly over Lord Kenneth again.

She turned to the woman whose hand was wrapped gently around her own.

Peregrine

5/1/2020

The realm council apparently had a mini session on board of Wayfarer's Gambit. Lucius, Benjamin and Alyssa all attended to their king diligently and he was obviously quite pleased. Onlookers could only see them all reading a lengthy missive and engaging in a hushed conversation betwixt themselves. Very soon this discussion was concluded and the trio was dismissed to have the rest of the evening for themselves.

The king was once again left on his own. But not for long. Very soon a man of middling years approached him with a gift.

Christopher approached the King with head hung. As the King's servants presented him, Christopher bowed his head and presented King Peregrine with the collection of books he received days earlier. "King Peregrine, please accept this collection of parchment from a lowly knight." Kneeling before the King, he awaited any reply.

It was clear that Kay favoured this knight for he offered him a smile and addressed him softly.

"My friend, I can not accept your gift. Although I do appreciate it. But items imbued with sorcery have a very unpleasant peculiarity of interfering with each other to a potentially devastating effect. I already own a mystical tome and can not carry another one along with it. Why don't you keep this one or offer it to someone you really like?"

Noire

5/2/2020

Dustiria watched Kenneth on the dance floor and then Alyssa and Isana join in. They looked so happy she knew she made the right decision to leave them alone. She had a good view even with the crowd. Woe be it to anyone that interrupted her charge and friend from finally enjoying life. Her hand absently flops her long reddish orange braid back over her shoulder as her other grabs yet another glass of mead. Her eyes scan the area. She spies Salem with an unkown woman speaking to another with...was that a real falcon? Well it is the Duke's party so that is sure not to be the weirdest thing tonight. She continues her scan of the area thankful Kenneth's tasteful outfit he gave her was comfortable and fighting fit. She leans against the side of the boat one foot resting on the ships wall knee bent once again showing she really has had not lady etiquette training. She looks amazed at some of the women in their tight lacing. Her armor that looked like a black corset was much more practical as was her black tights, knee length boots and her fancy purple coat complete with tails. Her Kenneth knew her so well. She watched him enjoy himself thankful he hadn't spotted her yet. Dancing ...how does one even do that?

Pryde

5/2/2020

Benjamin hated boats.

It wasn't a new thing.

Boats had taken him to Sandalak all those years ago. He'd found them a source of hope back then. A way to take him places where he could pursue glory. Then they had taken him away. At least they had taken him back home that time.

He hadn't planned to use them to leave his beloved Foda. He'd planned to stay with his people. If he couldn't get them out before the lands ended, he wouldn't leave them. But they'd had other ideas. So they'd kidnapped him, bundled him up onto the last fleet of ships to leave Atamara, and he had forever been separated from the people he loved more than life.

He'd found something new to care about in Oligarch. He'd found new friends and new causes, but in the end boats had taken him from that too. Highmarch had been a good place to pursue those causes, to continue the long fight against the Elven Overlords of Sirion. But boats had taken him from there as well. Down this very river to Bescanon. To Perdan.

And despite his continued rhetoric, he doubted he would ever be able to liberate Oligarch once more from this far away.

Boats had taken him away from everything he loved in this world. And here he was, spending another wasted night on another wretched, swaying assemblage of rotten twigs and sticks, looking out over a sea that had never brought anything good into his life.

"It's beautiful," his companion whispered.

Benjamin turned a disbelieving gaze towards the elf to see honest-to-gods tears running down flushed cheeks.

"Use your younger eyes," the elf said and pointed away from the boat.

He followed the gesture to see a pale moon shining off the water. He couldn't deny the beauty of that, but the water could not be forgiven for one such act.

"Listen to the gulls," his companion continued.

He heard the sea birds calling and could not deny the enchanting nature of their melody.

"Look at the horizon."

His eyes followed the command. There the sun peaked above the water and a carpet of silver glass covered the world all the way to his feet. It was...an amazing sight. The elf stood tall and exhaled a long breath. He'd forgotten the last time he saw that tall and confident stance. Maybe it had been the last time he had shared it. When Oligarch was still Free.

"They are calling," the elf said in a soft voice.

"Who?" Benjamin asked.

"Those who passed this way before," came the whispered response. "To the west."

"Where?" Benjamin asked and his mind ran over the map of the world, looking over all the lands in that direction. His mental eyes stopped when they hit fallen Atamara and he could go no further.

"Beyond that," the elf whispered and covered the white knuckles that gripped the railing with a soft hand. Then the voice hardened with purpose. "We will follow them soon."

"I see," Benjamin said and tried to keep the dread from his voice. He turned to scan the people on the boat to find Lady Lorelai. He took in her graceful carriage for a moment, and then his gaze passed over to the companion who still shadowed her. The elf nodded towards him. And that was that. The boats would take it all away from him again. Everything he had grown to...care about.

"No," the firm voice next to him said, calling him back to the hand on his. The hand that made him relax his deathgrip on the rail. "You do not."

Benjamin looked at her in confusion and a calm smile met his silent question.

“This is not the end,” the elf said before turning her gaze back out over the sea.

MacArbin

5/3/2020

Kenneth, bewildered by the sight of the bird, leaned over to Elinor, gesturing and murmuring.

"I cannot possibly be that drunk yet, but...Just to be safe, you see an actual falcon on the railing, yes?"

Elinor looked over, and he could see her doing the same math he had just done on the amount of drink she had imbibed.

"Yes...? Is it...Normal for there to be a falcon at the Duke's parties? Because I do not think the Duke will be happy when he sees the claw marks on the railing."

She considered for a moment.

"Not to mention the guano."

Kenneth nodded in agreement, and his eyes passed around the party trying to see if anything else looked as out of place, when he saw a happy Alyssa. He caught her eyes in a moment, and as she turned away he saw that she was quite close with Isana. Very close, in fact. He blinked again, wondering if that was more or less surprising and surreal than the falcon. He eventually concluded that it was more surprising, though thankfully less surreal.

"Well...Shall we gather our third, if we can, and begin?"

Elinor nodded with what he guessed was a similar mixture of confusion and curiosity to his own, and they began heading over. He put his diplomatic smile back on, and once they were within easy earshot, called out.

"Lady Aila, I presume? And is your friend a...Gift for His Grace, perhaps? If so, perhaps we can present it to those entrusted with all such, and make our way to the performing deck?"

Everlight

5/3/2020

The dance was pure magic. The fumbles at the beginning were perfect, Isana thought; a poetic echo of their whole situation.

This time, she led her trusted commander into battle: a carefully orchestrated sortie into a busy dance floor. The planks were springy and well polished underfoot, which made for smooth steps and left one’s attention to be swept away in the movement and proximity of another.

Swept away Isana was. The swordswoman in her arms was ethereal and light as a spring breeze, yet warm, close, and expressively alive. Lantern light made Alyssa’s hair into a halo of shining gold. Isana hardly heard the music, so focused was she on her partner’s every move: catching those strong hands on a spin; meeting her gaze with a breathless smile as they pivoted between other couples; pulling her lithe form close with a firm hand cradling her lower back. They knew each other’s movements well from many bouts of swordplay, and it showed. She felt as though they had danced together for decades, not the first time tonight.

The music came to a close. Isana felt she was still under its spell, her senses full of the starlit sky that was Alyssa Kingsley.

"Thank you, dearest."

The quiet words somehow meant more than just for the dance. Isana heard depth and solemnity carried in them. Her face tilted to one side with a sweet smile. For fear of breaking the incredible moment with words--or perhaps because she could not summon them to her lips--she gave a slow nod instead, eyes falling closed at the bottom then opening again.

The immensity of their lives cascaded into her thoughts. They were fighters; knights; commanders. Nearly all the faces around them were part of the armies. Tomorrow would not be spent in day-after-a-party dandy’s dalliances (much as she desired it!). They would be training, marching, possibly out on orders if the council meeting bode what she expected. It all made this night more special. Partly for the incredible transformation: seeing her road-dusted, bloodied, and exhausted combat comrades done up in their finest was impressive for its contrast. Partly for the tenuous nature of this festivity: everyone poured their hearts into it, for you never knew when--or if--you’d be part of another.

Well that's a dark thought.

Now that they had this connection Isana felt there was so much more to lose. The dark-haired woman closed her eyes and focused on the warm hands held naturally in her own, and encouraged that thought to pass. Her ears listened to the bustle of the night, she felt the slight sway of the deck beneath her feet, and these brought her back into the present and the magical event they were still part of. Worry brings strife before it’s due.

"They seem to be striking up another dear, did you wish to go again? Or did you want to mingle some more?" She looked around to see if she could spot her liege, her eyes passing briefly over Lord Kenneth again.

“There can never be another dance like that one.”

Isana spoke, wonder apparent in the softness of her voice. Alyssa’s expression fell to quiet concern as she looked back to Isana, perhaps interpreting a different meaning, before she continued.

“I will dance every dance with you, Aly my love, every time we get a chance.”

She squeezed the hands held in hers, then lifted one strong arm in its long green glove to spin her partner. Alyssa appeared bemused but followed, spinning once with her white gown floating about her. Isana caught her firmly to stop the spin with their shoulders touching and noses close together. She winked. The musicians had begun one more song behind them.

“None can ever be as perfect as that waltz, however I think 'incredible' is just as worthwhile. If you don't mind... may I have this dance?”

MacArbin

5/4/2020

Kenneth tilted his head, frowning slightly. There was real vitriol in those words, and that seemed wildly out of character for the realm he had come to love.

"I am Kenneth, yes, Earl of Nascot and a son of House MacArbin. A pleasure to meet you, Lady Adel, and I look forward to learning more about you momentarily, but Lady Aila...What do you mean by a 'cruel jape'? I enjoy a good jest myself, but 'cruel' is one adjective I would not have thought described anyone in Perdan. You need not tell me, of course, but if I am mistaken I would like to know who has so deceived the rest of us."

He looked sidelong at Elinor, trying to sober up rapidly. Clearly this was not a rube unaware of the conventions of the party, as he had guessed, but something else entirely.

Noire

5/4/2020

Dustiria still leaning against the ship. Her attention split between watching the Imperatrix dance with Isana ( no way she will let anyone interrupt that. Not duty. Hah ),and the falcon , two noble women and Salem. She will admit she had been wanting a falcon to hunt with on those rare occasions it was just her and her beloved. Speaking of there goes Kenneth and his dance partner to talk to the noble women and Salem. (Doesn't he have a performance to do. If I had know he would be dancing and mingling....oh well he's busy and having fun and none must interrupt that dance. Hopefully he would have time for me later)

Storme

5/4/2020

Aila hesitated, squirming in discomfort as her manners wrestled with her anger toward Luna and knowing it was her own fault for lashing out like that she one again, cursed the Grey Exarch. "It wasn't from anyone from Perdan" She would admit while folding her arms defensively, then unfolding them... then finally uncrinkling a the letter she had mutilated by crushing it in her hands.

"I apologize for my outburst I know I owe you the explanation but- I don't want anyone to know" she admitted, though with 4 people standing all around her she knew that was an impossibility now. "I don't want anyone to know" she repeated, at a loss for words.

Daubeny

5/4/2020

Apollyon slowly walked over to the band, he stepped up next to them and joined in their performance, he cast a glance to the band and was met with smiles and nods of encouragement and so Apollyon joined the band in the song.

MacArbin

5/4/2020

As Kenneth accepted the letter from Aila and read it, his brow furrowed. He passed it on to Elinor before responding, but the words were odd.

Dearest Aila,

I quite enjoyed your last letter, so much I just had to get you a gift. I hope you love the beautiful falcon that is now by your side. A proud majestic bird from the peaks of Evora. I have never trained a falcon before so I was quite surprised by how easy I found the task. Probably because I have falconry experience taming eagles so naturally if one can tame the kings and queens of the sky one can clearly tame the knights as well.

This most majestic bird is named Luna, as its pure white plumage is as pure and brilliant as a full moon. It seemed only fitting. I hope this bird will serve you well. Luna is a loyal, fierce and wise bird, I expect she will never abandon her master as I trained her for you and only you my lady Aila.

I hope you will think of me every time you see her.

Yours,

Lady Luna Tempest Grey Exarch of Shadowdale Dame of Evora Marshal of the Shadow Legion

"Lady Aila, I am guessing that from your demeanour that you do not approve of the intentions of this Luna? If so, then the matter is simple enough, we can have the bird removed, or killed at that, and we can add this to the list of things to mock Shadowdale for when next we defeat them in battle, or they refuse to meet us in their fear."

Kenneth offered a comforting smile.

"This is a night for song and dance. Our enemies are vile enough the rest of our lives, let us forget them for a moment, set their taunts aside, and sing our defiance."

He gestured toward the deck where his preparations had been made.

"Shall we?"

Storme

5/4/2020

Turning several shades of red as the Earl read out the letter addressed to her to everyone nearby, surprisingly by the time he was done speaking Aila did feel better. He was right, afterall... This would be one more thing to laugh about later.

"You are kind my Lord, I also admit I let this Luna get under my skin too easily" As she said the word Luna, the bird seemed to leap off the rail and flutter near Aila who sighed, and put her arm out for it to grip tight onto the long sleeve of her dress. She let the fact that the Grey Exarch had someone trained a Falcon to come to it's name roll off her back in the name of revelry. After all, she was here to represent house Storme and a live white falcon drove home the point if nothing else.

"Even so I do believe what I said before still rings true. It's not the bird's fault" Luna stared down at Aila from her perch on the Lady's arm almost as if knowing what was being said about it. A short whistle and a firm toss sent the falcon away to perch on a part of the ships rigging, an easy testament to Lady Stormes experience and the birds training.

As Luna the falcon peered down from high above Aila waited for Kenneth to move off, giving Adel a sheepish smile before saying "Lead the way, I've been practicing this song for weeks I need it out of my mind."

Hensley

5/4/2020

Elinor stood very still and tried to become invisible—the way you might stalk game in the forest or play hide-and-fetch with your sis…friends. Unfortunately, there were no thickets or hollows to lie in, or—her eyes inadvertently flicked upwards—trees. Gods what she wouldn’t give to be up a tree right now. Instead, she listened in agony whilst Kenneth read Lady Aila’s private and personal missive aloud. It was concerning that the bird had come from an enemy and one who knew precisely where Aila would be on this particular evening; but, she agreed that it was hardly the fault of the very fine falcon that it had been used so. The gift and the contents of the letter suggested some deeper relationship, but whether Lady Aila had been this Luna’s lover or had murdered her beloved was impossible to tell.

Regardless, it was no affair of hers and she hated to be a part of it; and, she was quite certain that the Lady wasn’t pleased to have complete strangers hearing her business.

She was relieved when Aila sent the bird aloft and the three of them were free to move towards the stage and the performance…which…she had agreed to by all that breathes on a whim because she was so ruddy pleased to have been asked and now it was nearly time and she had to sing for everyone and then—even worse—she had to give her poem which was probably very bad even though she had followed the classical forms but maybe she just should have done a drinking song with a simple beat and an easy rhyme and oh bless she really must have another mead.

MacArbin

5/4/2020

Kenneth smiled again at Aila, and then Elinor.

"Then let us perform! I will have a quick word with the musicians to be ready after the next dance, and will meet you up on the deck there momentarily."

He gestured again towards where the ceremonial swords were placed, and the various other singers he had arranged were gathered, and slipped off. He murmured quietly to the master of musicians, who nodded agreeably. He also gave word to some of the Stump staff about their own arrangements. One of the benefits to looking over the place for the Duke was being able to make all the preparations he liked, so this had been set up well ahead of time.

He made his way back up, made sure Elinor and Aila were comfortable with their blades, lanterns (out of the view of the main deck), and places, the singers were assigned to each of the three nobles, the lanterns were ready...And as the music faded out and the last dancers finished their steps, the servers extinguished the various lanterns and other lighting across the deck, until there was little save moonlight and starlight...Until he took his lantern and slowly strode forth, singing in a soft tenor.

"Shadows fall And hope has fled"

He put all of his feelings of despair and loss from the dark time when he arrived in Perdan. The smoke and screams from those defenseless before the northern armies, the horror of the remnants after they left...And more personally, the gut-wrenching loss as he fled Dwilight, leaving Deirdre behind.

"Steel your heart The dawn will come"

He recalled the desperate marches, the taunts and jeers from their foes...And the smirk from the man he had paid to wait six more years.

As his portion of the singers joined in the chorus, he kept his light close to his chest, illuminating his face from below.

"The night is long And the path is dark Look to the sky For one day soon The dawn will come"

He stood, for a moment, eyes closed as the emotion echoed through him, waiting to hear the next voice.

Hensley

5/4/2020

Elinor took her position on the stage. As Kenneth had promised, it was not in the front; however, she held the lantern that she would be partially unshielding during her verse and she would be singing the verse alone. Not exactly lost in a crowd after all, but, but…she slid her hand across the silk of her gown...she had dressed for it.

She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, imagining herself in the cool peace of her forest. It grew quiet and dark and then Kenneth began to sing. His voice was steady and richer in song than it had been in speech, and, surprisingly, quite emotional. It was true that she did not know him well, but had rather thought him not too serious: shiny and diplomatic and the like, and not lacking in proper duty, but not, perhaps, terribly substantial. She really should make more effort to know people.

Kenneth’s chorus was drawing to an emotional close and Elinor opened her eyes. In the semi-darkness the audience were little more than darker shadows beyond the stage. Tall slinky cat in the forest.

Elinor unshuttered her lantern half-way and began to sing:

The shepherd’s lost And his home is far

Her alto was quiet and trembled a bit as she began. She had agreed to sing this song because it was one that she could feel: the loss and hopelessness with the eventual promise of light at the end was a tale of her family, a tale of Perdan, a tale of everyone who’d ever lost anything.

As she began the next lines, Elinor realized that someone had stepped next to her and joined in solidly with a warm, rich baritone. The lantern casting its half-light upon them showed a tall, blond man—a very attractive tall, blond man—at her side. Sir Apollyon, she thought; they’d been in the field together, but never properly introduced.

Keep to the stars The dawn will come

Apollyon’s voice supported her and she sang out more strongly, blending her voice with his. When her chorus and Kenneth’s joined them for the refrain, she could still feel their pair of voices above the rest, believing in the dawn.

The night is long And the path is dark Look to the sky For one day soon The dawn will come.

Noire

5/4/2020

Dustiria watches Kenneth and two others go to the front curious. He had been so secretive and now she finally could find out why. Part of her wondered if it would just be a performance or would it be something more...a question perhaps. As he started to sing she stopped leaning against the ship and stood. She stopped her scanning of the area and all thoughts of duty fled. His voice wrapped around her and for her the crowd she stood in disappeared. The words touched her deeply and the sound of his voice deeper still. How she loved that man. Too short his voice was replaced by another. Then two. She still enjoyed it and returned to watching the crowd once more.

Storme

5/4/2020

Following behind, she displayed a competence to performance, listening to swift instructions and taking her place exactly as told.Like most nobles Aila had been tutored in sing and dancing, performing in some respects was all part of the game they played or so she had been told. As a result, after having so long to prepare she felt comfortable performing her part of the act Kenneth had so carefully choreographed.

When her cue came up she started on time, singing clear enough and loud enough but as she told the Earl when he asked her to join in- her singing voice was painfully average. She could carry a tune but any one of the real minstrels would have told her to stick to archery. Aila was the last part of the ensemble but it remained Kenneths show, a performance by a man who had seen much more then she.

Belmont

5/4/2020

Salem was quiet for the whole encounter. It was a characteristic of his to allow others to take spotlight. He preferred life in the shadows. Though he didn't just stand still and lifeless. His hands would give gentle squeezes to Adel's hand or arm to show support and encouragement. A smile was always present on his face, though it existed for those around them to see that the man with Adel seemed happy. She must be great company. As far as Salem was concerned, his new friend was becoming more, and more comfortable. Whether he was a direct cause or not meant little to him, he simply wanted that comfort to last for her. She is a good person. It would be a shame if someone like her felt left out, or alone during the Gala. For a moment, he thought about Reno, and how she must be feeling. Not at the moment, but in general. It wasn't recent that he discovered that one of Reno's former lovers took their life, but events like that stick forever. Sure, Reno avenged the suicide, but it coincided with a plan to pin murder on her own brother. She tried to be a prostitute to pay for her last living family member allowing her in his home, and is now drunk on a ship that truth be told, she was never invited to. Salem pleaded her not to go, but she insisted to take Nat's place while the Captain continued training the Azaghal. But the worst part of all of these new revelations was the fact that despite how horrible life has been for Reno...At least she's done literally anything. Salem himself feels like a shell. Sure, he's enjoying the time he's spending with Adel, but he knows that his only goal is to help her smile. His life consists of wanting nothing out of the things he does. The Gala wouldn't even be happening if he didn't help sack the ship back when Bescanon was rightfully taken back from the North. He deliberately allows to remain unseen, yet it bothers him that this is apparently just his life. He doesn't do things that make him happy. Is he even happy at all?

With Earl Kenneth, Lady Elinor, and Dame Aila having parted from Salem and Adel, the knight turns to his new friend and playfully nudges her. "Will you watch the performances with me?" He asks, "I would prefer no other company."

Renodin

5/4/2020

The stage filled with nobles. From his vantage point Nemean could claim a decent view of the performance. Sipping his wine while listening to the song that wove the voices of Kenneth, Elinor and Aila together. He shifted his weight against the wall, trying to relief his shoulder. A futile action really. The words that made up the song made some direct sense to him. He looked at the sky and it was black. That made him feel dumb and he made a downward smirk. With the performance concluding he worked himself upright. The wall had been comfortable in its own way but he had to clap. Joining in on the applause.

Slinging his coat over his now liberated arm it was high time to mingle. A frown came to his face though, he hadn't seen Smiddich yet. Where was he? The thought congealed as he peered across the deck. Following the crowd wasn't enough but it did give a hint or two. The dancing had resumed. As did the trays with delights. The physique and sheer presence of Smiddich did reveal itself eventually though. A wellspring from which cheer flowered as much as the crowd that had gathered around the man. One of the flowers was a red rose.

Having set his sights Nemean pushed off. Making his way through the throng. This time with much more care and a smile rather than using his strength. While effective it to offered its own challenges. Especially with the advancing evening and all that entailed. His goblet of wine a poor weapon to parry with and his other arm inviting rather than a deterrent. The result, however delayed, remained the same. Complimenting his way through and out of a group of dapper knights. ..and don't let me stop you either, I'm sure she'll fall harder for you than your last victim in the lists!

Turning 'round to face the Duke he was faced with more than he had expected. He couldn't help himself. Looking at the Duke he squared his shoulders. Rising to his full height and offered something between a smile and a grin. Measuring himself unconsciously while feeling a brimming sense of kinship. Still, his eyes couldn't help but steal away to the side. The rose wasn't without thorns as he had experienced previously but it certainly blossomed. There she was, Delphine.

Your Grace. Nemean turned his full attention to the Duke and bowed. Goblet to the right and coat to the left. I didn't know you played the fiddle. His smile dissuaded the assumption of his mocking tone. He swept the coat bearing arm towards the crowd. You've outdone yourself, Smiddich. Inclining his head in deference meeting the older man's eyes. A passing servant offered the opportunity to rid himself of the goblet which he gladly took. If you will permit me, I would present you with a gift. I know, it probably won't compared to some of the other gifts you've received this fine evening. Still, allow me to try. He didn't intend this to be a competition but now that he stood before the man, he wanted Smiddich to like it. He produced the small parcel from his belt where it had hung all this time. No bigger than half a loaf of bread. Smaller even.

Opening it in front of the Duke, Nemean took great care not to damage what he was about to reveal. The parcel unraveled in folds of cloth. Leaving to the eyes two objects. The first was a band of precious metal. Polished for the occasion but obviously old. Worked by the hands of a master jeweler. The insignia of the region of Oc Lu Pesh blatend and obvious. The second object looked unusable in the extreme. On one side it showed a rendition of a goose. The other side was blank while at both edges there were padded holes through which an elastic cord was strung. The Goose's eyes were pierced and open, as if meant to be looked through. Though certainly not by human eyes. The snout far too long and the other dimensions reminiscently canine if exceptionally small for any ordinary dog.

Holding the items out for Duke Smiddich to behold he waited a moment before speaking. The circlet was hers. The mask, I think you know who wore the mask at the gala. She was quite clever to use it and if accounts are accurate, Selenia wasn't at all happy about it. It was then that Nemean smiled warmly at Smiddich and put both items in the man's hands. One of his own hands reaching to squeeze the aging man's shoulder without offering further words.

Breaking the spell Nemean turned to Delphine. Feigning ignorance he halfheartedly scanned about. You seem to be without a dance partner. He offered her his hand. And I haven't danced yet. The bravado subdued with raised eyebrows. Turning the words and gesture into something resembling a question.

Daubeny

5/4/2020

Apollyon noticed the trio of nobles preparing to sing, they all took places, Apollyon pulled a servant aside and asked what song they were performing, once he knew Apollyon tried to remember the lyrics to this one, slowly and quietly he walked to stand just before a shorter noble, her hair done up in a fancy fashion Apollyon likely would not understand. He waited for the Noblewoman to begin, in the half light of the lantern he could see that she was Viscountess Elinor, he had seen her at war meetings and on the battlefield. He flawlessly joined in with her voice, finding they melded surprisingly well together, he joined the trio in song, soon the third, Lady Aila joined the song too, Apollyon smiled, he hadn’t sung with others for quite a time.

MacArbin

5/4/2020

As Aila stepped forward and began her portion, all three of them drew the (decorative) swords positioned nearby, keeping hold of their lights in their off hand. Apollyon's voice mingled with the full chorus, and Kenneth smiled at the unexpected but welcome addition.

"Bare your blade And raise it high Stand your ground The dawn will come"

They each held their swords at the ready, though in a defensive grip.

"The night is long And the path is dark Look to the sky For one day soon"

They turned, blades now pointed North across the river.

"The dawn will come"

He held the note for a moment, hoping the tableau worked as intended, showing a Perdan restored, strong, and determined to stand tall.

They turned and bowed to the Duke, signalling the end of the performance, and accepting whatever response the crowd had. After he sheathed his sword and gave an uncharacteristically tentative smile to Elinor and Aila.

"My ladies...Thank you. It has been some time since I sung, and...His Grace has done so much for me. I wanted this to be special for him. Thank you, again."

Daubeny

5/4/2020

Apollyon smiled at the three nobles, he nodded to himself and began to leave the stage for the three to accept their applause.

Hensley

5/5/2020

Elinor was moved by the both by the song and by Kenneth’s naked sincerity. Her own eyes were full and her throat too tight to respond with more than a smile and a deep, respectful bow. She, too, felt the desire to make things special for the Duke. Like Kenneth she owed…everything…to His Grace. All the everything that still wasn’t enough for her family.

What do you get the man that can have have it all?

A song.

A poem.

It was time.

The lights were brighter now and for a moment she felt very alone and very…naked…before the assembled nobles, particularly after the poignant ending to the singing. She reached to Sir Apollyon who was just stepping away and placed a hand on his arm.

“Sir, if I could ask you to just…stand here…uh…next to me for a few moments. I would appreciate borrowing your strength once more.”

Elinor searched the audience until she spied her liege and fixed her eyes upon him.

“Noble friends, “ her voice shook. Breathe Breathe, “Noble friends, like so many here, I am in eternal debt to the man of the hour, His Grace, Duke Smiddich. As in the old tales, ‘When I was a stranger, you took me in’ and then proceeded to feed and clothe me and give me my heart’s desire. There are no words for what that has meant to me.

“But, I’m going to give you a few words just the same because that’s all I have.”

An Ode To Duke Smiddich and the Wayfarer’s Gambit

The Pirate Duke of whom legends are told, Had his ship stolen by an evil hand But while he is kind, he is also bold

So Smiddich made a plan to form a band Of stalwart knights his craft to reclaim (for Our Pirate’s a captain even on dry land).

They slid through shadow on softened shoes or Played pranks to allay the guards’ concern while Another launched his assault from the shore.

Sets forth our Duke with his cunning and guile To swim up to the ship, there to persuade With a blade his ship’s return with such style

Wayfarer’s Gambit: all debts repaid; Stealth and steel make a one-sided trade.

Fontaine

5/5/2020

Smiddich took the packages from Nemean and opened them; he hadn’t anticipated gifts of such quantity or calibre for throwing a simple gala! But it was a small recompense for having the ship restored and the generous quality (and quantity!) of food and gifts…. and such celebrations were few and far between.

And yet, Nemean had managed to surprise him utterly, with not one, but two mementos reminiscent of a pivotal and substantial time in his life; one where he was a simple knight with a simple goal – a Queens man, for life. But that Queen was not his anymore. Nor, the fiancé for whom these tokens represented.

Duke Smiddich stood there, dumbfounded, holding one each of the gifts in either hand. His quiet, “Thankyou, Nemean”, was perhaps the most sincerity he had ever shown the ex-Marshall. He would treasure these, always some of the last remaining artifacts of that time.

Soon the sounds and delights of the gala returned to him; Nemean had already moved away for a dance, not lingering in this moment any longer than necessary, and Smiddich was grateful for that. He was just stepping to his quarters when he heard Lady Elinor begin her poem on stage. She gave her poem on shaky breath, clasping Apollyon’s arm as if defying him to move away lest she tumble over. But she gave the Ode in tribute to the Duke and the planks of this fine vessel, and he couldn’t help but feel a tear come to his eye. The Black Blade of Perdan could hardly wipe them away, what with the treasures he clasped. The pirate lord stamped his feet instead upon the polished boards in lieu of clapping, joining in a raucous approval for the gift of song.

Now, it was time to flee! In between performance, up some narrow stairs and through a corridor, past some servants rolling another barrel of something sweet and potent down the halls. His own private quarters, where he could gather himself for but a moment. Everything inside, to his eye, a little askew; a splash of water on the basin, the wardrobe rummaged through, a body on the bed; snoring softly with hat, wig and boots off to one side. Someone had tended to her, at least; he would have Salem come to evict her by the time the gala was done.

In the meantime, he placed the circlet and mask in his nightstand drawer, locked it with a heavy key; there would be time to admire them later. Divested of those particular memories, he headed back to the party.

Daubeny

5/5/2020

Apollyon was halted by the Viscountess Elinor, Apollyon smiles at her and nodded, as she recited her poem to the crowd and Duke Fontaine, Apollyon stood by her side, silent, listening to her poem, one he found satisfyingly spoken and written, though he preferred song to poem he appreciated both, clearly Elinor Hensley knew her stuff when it came to musical matters, perhaps they could perform together. Apollyon waited for the Viscountess to finish and the began to clap in applause, a action near mimicked by the small crowd on the ship’s deck.

De Montigny

5/5/2020

Delphine read over the letter handed to her by Smiddich. "How odd" she thought to herself, it was almost the exact letter she had just given the duke but in her name. The young Jacelyn had decided to leave the party early. It was a shame, she was looking forward to that first dance. He was not really her type, but just the joy of dancing would have been a nice change, especially after the event that had unfolded.

At this point the festivities were well underway, having misses the opening dance and a few other performances, but there was still time to enjoy the night. As the new Marshal, or soon to be if the king ever forgave her and officially presented her with the actual Marshals badge, it was time to find a suitable partner to replace the now absent Jacelyn.

For a moment she wondered if it was something she had done to scare the poor boy away, or maybe he was just fleeing like the coward he was, afraid of what might actually come of this evening. His loss..

Delphine looked around at the unpaired nobles, high and low, at this point any cute man, or woman would do. She thought back to the young girl she left in the dukes bed, maybe she should have stayed a little longer. Before she could spot a singleton to pair with a familiar form came into view. Nemean!

She watched as she gracefully approached the duke, presenting him with gift, ignoring her completely, or at least he was trying. She could see him glancing over every so often, purposely avoiding eye contact or any sign of recognition. She of course knew this was all an act, she had spent many hours with him scouting for enemies, fighting in the field, or just prepping knights. He had a keen eye for details, and not much could get passed him unnoticed.

As he finished her finally turned to her, the markings on his cheek becoming less apparent, as if his skin was finally beginning to forgive her. Or was it she that was forgiving him?

You seem to be without a dance partner. He offered her his hand. And I haven't danced yet. The bravado subdued with raised eyebrows. Turning the words and gesture into something resembling a question. -Nemean JeVondair Renodin

The nerve of that man! But she did want the company, and dancing would certainly help lighten the mood. Delphine looked left and then right, taking the time to pause between each and letting her hair follow the movement like waves teasing the shoreline.

"Well it does appear you are right Sir Nemean JeVondair Renodin. Allow me to step in while you wait for your partner to find you."

She took his hand acceptingly and lead him to the dance area, hinting that she was in charge not him. The began to dance to the music, swigging and swaying to the melodies, cheering with the familiar choruses and just having fun. As the music slowed, she could feel herself dancing closer and closer. No longer two people toying with one another, but gliding gently across the deck as one. She could feel the heat off his body contrasting with the cool night air. Time was slowing down, sounds becoming distant, it was now just them moving with he rock of the ship.

She would miss him... A single tear finally made its way down her cheek, no longer being held in by pride. She pulled him closer, probably too close, subconsciously not wanting to let him go, grasping at these final moments together as a perfect pair. She would very much miss him...

Noire

5/5/2020

As Kenneth leaves the stage area Dustiria moves through the crowd to get to him. She tries her best not to bump people but with so many people it's unavoidable. So after a few apologies she reaches him, "Kenneth that was very well done! I really enjoyed the suprise. What's next my love?"

Storme

5/5/2020

Aila took Kenneth's thanks heartily, giving him a genuine smile as she left him to soak up all the praise for his heartfelt performance. A poem then, honoring the Duke she took in from the deck with everyone else on her way to get through the crowd amassed near the performers and with them all she would clap cheerfully for the woman she had never met and secretly for Apollyon who supported her so gallantly through it.

There was a pause then between performers and Aila too the chance to reach the outside of the crown in time to see the Duke alone and slipping away into a part of the ship she hadn't found while exploring earlier. Interest piqued by the lone Duke Aila moved toward where he had disappeared and pretended not to be waiting for anyone, giving her best -fancy seeing you here- look as Smiddich re-emerged. Lady Storme studied the Duke before Copying Nemean's manners she greeted him with "Your grace" replacing his bow with a very proper curtsy, the kind little ladies are forced to practice since 2 years old. Her initial appraisal had been that he was 'old' but the word was far from her mind now, no up close he was much more then that. Of all the noble men her Father had ganged around with her whole life she had never seen one built quite like this- Tall, dark, broad- he was formidable. Is this why people refer to him as a pirate? It was all a bit disarming up close but in Aila's current state that was a very good thing.

"Everyones been showering you with gifts, all I have is this the Grey Exarchs Poems" she handed him a paper covered in beautiful, feminine handwriting. It was a handwritten collection of the poems she had received from Shadowdale, taunts, insults and all. In case that wasn't enough to tip him off she added "I'm Aila Storme, Dame of Aix" she did her best to help out the Duke who she imagined was wondering just who this teenager standing before him was. "I mean not to bother you, you've been surrounded all evening. I just wanted to give you that bit of entertainment to read." And then Aila did something that Aila pre-wine never would have "I came without a date in hopes you would too" A wry smile hid slight doubts currently being violently stamped down by rich alchohol. "Do you want to dance?"

Renodin

5/5/2020

"Well it does appear you are right Sir Nemean JeVondair Renodin. Allow me to step in while you wait for your partner to find you." ~Delphine de Montigny

She took his hand in hers. The clasp gentle and not that of friends. His fingers closed around hers. The Duke's words coasted by. All that was truly exchanged was appreciation though and Nemean gave the man a look full of fondness before turning his eyes back to Delphine. He had to, because she was leading him away and into the crowd. The cheering and frolicking people were a happy jungle. He let himself be lost in it. Breathing easy as he went. It wasn't often that he wasn't expected to lead, to do something. She allowed him to do that. Just follow.

The way she moved. Their shared joy camouflaged by the other revelers. Early on he had thrown his overcoat away. Casting it off with a flourish not caring where it'd land. Showing off his shoulders. Dancing with her and teasing her. Hands free and then seeking but respectful but not. Pushing her away and reeling her in again. Savoring the closeness she offered. Laughing at her outrageous teases. Diving right back in when she stopped. Eyes bright with joy until they slanted with mischief. All to the tune of the music. A tune that slowed, song by song. And then it crept. He breathed heavily, feeling the beating of his heart. His teeth on display. It was like a forced march but there was nothing forced about this.

Distance slunk as the notes grew further apart. The melody was heartwarming or was that her head upon his chest? He took her in his embrace. Gathering Delphine into his arms. Swaying as the music suggested. From side to side, they needn't look. Their feet carried them across the deck. His hand moved from her shoulder to her lower back while the other held her close. Allowing space to whisper as he leaned down slightly. The strength she had employed during their slow dance wasn't lost on him. The brocade was mean in the sense that it hardly brooked grasping. That hadn't stopped her from trying though. His lips moved as they were neighbor to her ear.

On a deck full of life they moved oblivious. Lost to time and even more lost to people. Their eyes didn't need to see, hands weren't required to feel. Nemean pressed his chin and cheek against the side of her head. Eyes distant, present, all at the same time. The swell of his chest a steady rise as he breathed in the all of her.

Kingsley

5/5/2020

Isana caught her firmly to stop the spin with their shoulders touching and noses close together. She winked. The musicians had begun one more song behind them.

“None can ever be as perfect as that waltz, however I think 'incredible' is just as worthwhile. If you don't mind... may I have this dance?”

Alyssa took in the closeness of her partner, gently touching their foreheads together, the warmth of her body against hers. Alyssa tilted her chin up slightly, placing her lips against her partner's own in an easy kiss. Somehow, despite its lightness, it felt more powerful than the previous ones. She knew why of course. It was an announcement. To all of the realm of what the two meant to each other. No one had seemed to pay their affections any mind, a reassuring fact. The worry parted along with her lips. She gave Isana a little nuzzle before reluctantly pulling away.

"I told you that would not be the last time today." She said quietly with a little smile. Suddenly however the band stopped playing. Still holding close to her partner she glanced up at the stage that had been set up on the deck. Lord Kenneth strode across with Lady Elinor following behind, lantern and sword in hand. Curious.

The song began, Lord Kenneth's voice echoing hauntingly across the calm waters of the bay, sending a bit of a shiver down her back as both of them and the rest of the audience listened intently to the young lord as he sang out. Soon he was joined by the others Elinor, Aila and Sir Apollyon, who came up from his place in the band to join them. Together their voices joined in harmony.

"The night is long And the path is dark Look to the sky For one day soon The dawn will come"

Mine already has. She thought to herself as she leaned into Isana. Perdan's will come soon. I will make certain of it.

Upon the last chorus they pulled their blades from the scabbards pointing them across the bay to the North. "The dawn will come."

She nodded solemnly to herself at the thought, still they were right. No matter how dark it seemed, there was always hope. Internally she thanked Lord Kenneth for the reminder, she had such trouble reading his intentions, perhaps his heart was true. And with Isana by her side the light would always be there.

The singers took their bows and Alyssa turned back to her morning star. "I did not realize they were beginning so soon, I'm sorry." She stepped back into position for another dance with her lady when a throat clear came from the stage as Lady Dimwood began her recitation of an original poem. She gave Isana another apologetic look, before turning back to listen respectfully to appreciate Lady Elinor's poem. As the applause settled and she stepped off the stage, the music began playing again softer, a light melody. While one or two couples remained dancing near the back of the dance floor, most left to mingle. Alyssa giving an exasperated smile to her lady as she took the lead in a light impromptu dance. One for them alone. The musicians seemed to take note of them, changing the tempo slightly to match in time with the dancing ladies, Alyssa giving a little smile as her partner giggled when she spun her around. She caught from the corner of her eye one of the other pairs dancing alone, Lady Delphine and the Sir, Nemean. Curious. She thought, her attention turning back to her knight as she gave her another twirl.

MacArbin

5/5/2020

As Dustiria approached, he smiled back and wrapped an arm around her.

"I am glad you liked it. I wanted my first song to be memorable..."

He smiled and nodded back gratefully to Aila, glad things had worked out reasonably well. He opened his mouth, only to close it again as Elinor began her poetry. He grinned and gave a lazy salute at the reference to his role in the heist, and joined in the applause at the end, then turned to see where Aila had gone off to. He really needed to...Ah, there she was. And...He laughed when he saw who she had approached.

"I believe, my lady-love, that my work tonight is done! Now, I have a powerful thirst, and also we must dance together at least once tonight, it would not do at all to miss that. And, later, when everyone's attention is a bit more occupied with mead and their eyes are weary, I have a rather wicked plan, but one I think you will enjoy. So, shall we start with the dancing, the better to enjoy it with our wits intact? Or with the drinking, the better to fortify ourselves for the dancing?"

He grinned as he looked at her. He couldn't remember when they had last danced together. Perhaps at the Stump...? No, that had been a general revel, might have been Lea come to think of it...His eyes widened.

"Wait, is this our first dance?"

Noire

5/5/2020

Dustiria leaned against Kenneth enjoying his arm around her as they listened to the poem and smiled at him when he said his next thing was done already then she stiffened. "Ummm i " she tries again clearly embarrassed, " this would be....but I don't know how to dance." Chang of subject time,"what mischievous thing is later". She looks over at Kenneth to see if distraction worked.

MacArbin

5/5/2020

Kenneth's eyes widened further for a moment in surprise before he frowned in consideration, frown deepening as he continues.

"You don't...Well then. You realize, what this means, of course?

He held her eyes gravely, for a moment, as she looked uncertainly at him.

"It means that I get to claim your first dance ever."

He smiled, and his arm squeezed reassuringly around her.

"Quite a prize, I must admit. But, perhaps, we should begin with the drinking, and move to the dancing with more liquid courage and with a tad more privacy. My plan for later can accommodate some dancing practice, first."

Noire

5/5/2020

She looks relieved at Kenneth, "liquid courage sounds wonderful. I was watching you then Alyssa dance. You both were so elegant with your partners. I don't want to embarrass you. " She waves over a server and instead of her usual mead she grabs a bourbon, "you do have me curious love. Any hints for later?"

Fontaine

5/5/2020

Duke Smiddich turned away from having closed the doors to his private suites, and found Aila waiting for him. He hesitated for only a second before self-assured confidence returned. The ship gently rocked despite the hundred feet aboard her dancing and revelling, and he took her hand in greeting.

“Lady Aila”, said the swarthy Duke of Perdan, “It is my pleasure! I had hoped to make your acquaintance tonight, in fact, to hear a poem from your lips!”, he grinned. “It was your spirited prose that prompted tonights celebration of the arts, after all!”

Up close, and in the bright lantern light, Aila could see that Smiddich was finely dressed and everything tailored to size. The Duke was tall and broad, not so much in any particular direction to be awkward. His black shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbow; she could spy dark tattoos peeking out from swarthy skin at his collar, forearms and the back of one hand. A few loose buttons at the top hinted at more pictographs underneath; no doubt waves and anchors and other spirits of the sea. They were well into the night; the pirate knight of Perdan smelled of port and cigar smoke, fingers decked in heavy silver rings, a silken sash around his slim waist.

“I shall read these with interest!”, says Smiddich, taking the papers from her, “If they are as amusing as the first. Shall I return them to you when I am done? I admit, I have found the Shadowdhavians to be boorish and insular folk, I have not attracted their attention as you seem to have!”

He takes her arm and leads confidently back to the dance floor where one tune is ending and another beginning. The Duke bows low to his partner, and leads her through the steps of a gentle waltz. Aila can feel his warmth prickling through his back and shoulder where he leads her, deftly giving her no choice but to step confidently here and there among the crowd. More than once, he snatches her away from a stray elbow or from being trodden on by a clumsy knight, turning her finally into a slow dip as the music concludes.

He clears his throat as his face lingers near to hers, “Two in a row is customary…”, says the Duke, “Would you care for another?”

Hensley

5/6/2020

Elinor had kept her eyes on Duke Smiddich the entire recital and was gratified by his stomping with the applause at the end. And then…then he just turned and left.

She felt the blood rushing from her face and suddenly realized that she was standing stock still on the stage with eyes on her. Suddenly the room felt close and oppressive. Whatever courage and warmth the mead had given her had fled and she felt foolish and sick. She gathered up her so lovely skirts, not caring if they exposed her practical grey leather boots beneath and bolted for the open deck and some blessed air.

Once she reached the railing, Elinor clung to it, breathing deeply, willing herself not to waste good mead over the side. Just breathe. How many times had she thought that tonight, much good it’d done her. She felt rather small and not remotely slinky, no matter how much her gown shimmered. She knew that she was still just El within it.

She wanted quite badly to leave the party, but that would be rude and insulting to her host. Even if he didn’t particularly notice her, she would know and that was what mattered in the end. Still, the blasted breathing was helping. Curse Meraud for being a know-all. She might as well go back inside, maybe find some more beverages.

As Elinor made her way back towards the dance floor, she ws just in time to see Lady Aila and the Duke enter together and begin sliding gracefully around the dance floor.

“Oh.”

MacArbin

5/6/2020

Kenneth enjoys a leisurely sip of his mead before responding. He saw Elinor make her way to the railing, alone, and wondered if she needed the air after two performances in a row, or just enjoyed the starlight on the water. Her dancing had been superior, he would have to keep an eye out to see if she could use a partner again later...

"You still owe me riding lessons, you know, and I think I can give you dancing lessons in exchange. You are far better astride a horse than I, after all, I have to have some skills to match that."

He saw the Duke dancing with Aila, and that part of the evening seemed to be going rather well. He hoped the Duke would continue enjoying his evening, and grinned.

"As for hints...I suppose that might be in order."

He handed her his mead, before beginning to work on the silk bow on her right hip, carefully pulling it loose as he rested his head on her shoulder and nipped her ear before murmuring into it.

"Imagine that, but on a rather larger scale..."

Noire

5/7/2020

No food plus bourbon makes a happy Dustiria. She watches the Duke and Aila as she listens to Kenneth. As he pulls a ribbon and nibbles and ear she gasps and blushes almost as bright as her hair. Is it the strong drink or something else that makes her happy eyes shine bright. "You are right. I have shown you how well I ride. Show me how to dance my love," she says her voice a bit husky.

Daubeny

5/7/2020

Apollyon blinked in momentary confusion as Lady Hensley left the stage hastily, he quickly understood as Duke Fontaine has all but seemingly infinite’s the poem, Apollyon sighed and ran after the Viscountess, he quickly lost her in the crowd, he sighed and went back to his bag in the corner, fetching from it a bottle, he stopped a servant and took two empty glasses. He searched for the Viscountess rejoin the party as the Duke and Dame Storme were beginning to dance, Apollyon walked over and offered a smile, he waved the bottle of wine slightly.

Timidly and as reassuringly as he could Apollyon spoke “Come Lady Hensley, you look like you could use a drink and I just so happen to have some of the finest wine this side of Beluaterra”

Apollyon then paused and feared he sounded to forward, he cleared his throat “I-I mean if you want to of course”

Hensley

5/7/2020

Elinor drew her attention from the dance floor to the noble addressing her; her self-absorption giving way to the realization of just how shockingly rude she had been.

“Lord Apollyon,” she began, chagrined but remembering to smile appropriately and look him in the eyes, “Please accept my apologies for leaving you so precipitously after your kindness in providing moral support. It was sorely needed and greatly appreciated.” She gave him a formal bow of the precise depth to show sincere respect.

“I would be delighted to share a glass with you, though I confess to not being much of a wine connoisseur; grapes do not thrive in Dimwood. Perhaps you could tell me something of this vintage?”

Question asked, Elinor settled into the “let them talk” portion of the conversation, remembering her interested smile.

Storme

5/7/2020

The Sincerity with which Fontaine greeted her was a welcome surprise, he made it easy for her to look him up and down with a look of half awe and half amusement. His charming grin, the glimmering rings, the hint of tattoos all made the fine clothes seem like an afterthought. As he took her meager gift she couldn't help but match his smile as he commented.

“I shall read these with interest!”, says Smiddich, taking the papers from her, “If they are as amusing as the first. Shall I return them to you when I am done? I admit, I have found the Shadowdhavians to be boorish and insular folk, I have not attracted their attention as you seem to have!” -Smiddich Fontaine

"They are yours to keep, I went through the letters and copied them all myself. You're quite right about their manner."

To her delight he did not linger on the subject long and instead lead her away with a confidence she herself would've loved to have. In the matter of dancing, much like her singing Aila was also painfully average and so when the Duke unexpectedly did take her up on her offer the fact that he made it easy for her to follow his lead was no small relief considering the social leap of faith she had just taken. -He can dance- she marveled, smiling through the number.

It felt like victory, she hadn't stepped on him once, nor tripped, nor said anything ridiculous. Reveling in her achievement didn't last long however. He clears his throat as his face lingers near to hers, “Two in a row is customary…”, says the Duke, “Would you care for another?”

The easy to vex Aila had been totally disarmed of course she wouldn't refuse another dance. "Well we wouldn't want to breach etiquette" she would reply a bit too quickly, her dry sense of humor rearing it's ugly head. Despite the slip fate went easy on her as the next song began, a court song with a dance she knew well enough to hold her own.

Daubeny

5/7/2020

Apollyon was glad to see Lady Hensley smile, though he he sighed as she bowed “Please, Viscountess, do not worry, I am more then happy to provide assistance to my fellow nobles, in truth I would much rather know what had you run off so hastily, but such talk is not for the ballroom I think.”

Apollyon tried to be as reassuring as he could be. He thought for a moment when Lady Hensley asked about the wine. “This is the Daubeny Reserve as my cousins call it, they have fine vineyards in Beluaterra and Dwilight, I was lucky to receive three bottles on my birthday two years back.”

He then began to talk of the wine itself “It is made of Winter Berries that are native only to my homeland, which is and Island off the north of Ygg Razhuul, in Dwilight, the berries are squashed not unlike grapes in normal wine, though the juices of the Winter Berries is a bright blue, when mixed with a little bit of a secret ingredient, even I don’t know, the wine almost glows, that plus the smooth texture and taste of strawberries make it a fine wine indeed” Apollyon finished his explanation and realised how much of tirade he just went off on, he cleared his throat “Apologies Lady Hensley, I am prone to talking a bit too much at times, but this wine is why my family first rose to wealth, so I have always held the subject of it close to myself.”

He nodded toward the door leading back out into the moonlit sky and fresh air of the deck “Shall we?”

Hensley

5/7/2020

Sir Apollyon’s words washed over her as Elinor watched him speaking. Objectively, he looked good doing it, so it wasn’t painful to stand there smiling at him, nodding occasionally. The information about the wine was genuinely interesting and she was, to her own surprise, actually looking forward to tasting it.

When he indicated returning to the deck, she nodded her assent, “Fresh air is always appreciated; that’s why I stepped out earlier. It was far too close in here,” and Elinor led the way without looking back.

Daubeny

5/7/2020

Apollyon smiled at Elinor and followed the Viscountess out onto the deck, he breathed in the fresh sea air and basked in the moonlight.

He leaned up against the railing “So, Viscountess, tell me about what is causing you distress” Apollyon causally said as he poured two glasses of Daubeny reserve, he offered one to the Viscountess “You seemed quite upset after your performance”

Fontaine

5/7/2020

The Duke of Blades caught a passing porter, and bade them clear the dining service, and set out dessert. In short order, the staff would roll aboard freshly baked pies and pastries from the cities bakeries which were employed for this evening task. The ship boasted a substantial kitchen, but nothing that could tolerate the needs of so many at such short notice. Fine crockery and tea sets were set up on tables and laden with cream, custard and compote, fresh fruit and other confections to be eaten with finest china and silverware.

The band struck up the next number; one had taken up a fiddle in Smiddich' stead. The number, while traditional, was slightly faster than the last, and several couples quit the dancefloor in submission. The pirate knight raised an eyebrow, giving Alia an easy out, and then grinned and clasped her hand and waist. This was a more rollicking number, a circular skipping dance of whirls and steps. Gratefully, this song was shorter, and before long the breathless couple bowed to one another as the music ended.

Dessert was shortly served as the band packed themselves away and settings were placed at the main table and on several other trestles. "Sit with me, won't you?", asked the Duke to Lady Alia, as fresh baked pies and strudels, crumbles and turnovers were delivered, "Sit with me and have something sweet!"

Storme

5/7/2020

A strange soldier it would be to be too exhausted to continue after one dance, she had all the youth and energy one could expect from a teenager and danced this dance that she had before with far more comfort then the walts she had spent staring up at the man called pirate with eyes like saucers. She ended this dance with a genuine laugh this time, holding onto his arm moments after the music stopped to catch her breath.

Only two dances? she looked and realized that Fontaine had somewhere along the way had everything switch over again. The sound of tables hitting the deck reminded her of Luna- the bird of course. Aila looked up at the rigging, eyes darting around till she saw the shadow of a falcon still waiting above. It's level of training was getting irritating almost but as the Earl had advised her Aila tamped down her ire for the Grey Exarch and went along with the Duke as she was expect.

She sat when bid, arranging her long skirt out of the way trying not to think about all the eyes boring into her as she one of the lowest on the noble totem pole took a seat with a Duke. Easy to forget as a dainty dish of honey wafers was placed in arms reach as if meant just for her, her absolute favorite. Still she didn't touch it instead turning to the Duke- she had a thousand questions for him but found herself too nervous to ask any of them. Trying to reassure herself that it was /him/ who reached out to her first she just went for it. "In all my time serving I've not seen a get-together like this one, A deserved break to be sure. I must ask... what is the history of the Gambit for you to put so much care into her?" she asked, behind an only slightly clueless smile.

De Montigny

5/7/2020

Delphine could feel Nemean's hand travel down her shoulder, the tips of his fingers teasing the skin as they softly stroked her on their way to her back. His grip tightened, his fingers almost curling at the tips. As she would move closer, she could feel him holding her, strong but delicate, wanting but letting go. The heat radiating off him was comforting and the beat of his heart soothing, timing itself with hers.

As his lips approached her ear, she felt his breath soft and steady.

You look amazing tonight. Time stretched. Even if I did like the green one better. Even now he couldn't help to tease. His hand toyed with something at her lower back. Breath was coming calm and steady to him. Don't worry about a thing. You are beautiful and you won't miss a thing. -Nemean JeVondair Renodin

It was if he read her mind, those few words were enough to reassure her, to mend the broken bridge and tear down the wall that had just recently been erected. Not sure if it was the remnants of alcohol or a true bond between them, but she yurned for Nemean, more so than she had since knowing him. Was it that there were no longer titles keeping them apart and in line, or was it that it was just meant to be, did he feel this way too? As his voice ceased to give, a soft prickle of a sensation touched her ear. Unmistakable a kiss. Delicate, hidden, stolen. -Nemean JeVondair Renodin

Instinctively she pushed her dance partner away and slapped him for the second time that evening, the new mark fitting almost perfectly where the old one had stood. She did knot know what she felt, anger, betrayal, love? Delphine gasped and immediately took his head in her hands. She pulled him close and embraced him passionately. Their tongues danced together as gracefully as they had been moments earlier. She pulled away sharply. "Sorry!" And kissed his cheek twice before returning to his lips. When they finally separated, she drew close to his ear, whispering soft words back to him.

"Next time ask, for permission!"

Daubeny

5/7/2020

Apollyon began to sip his own glass of wine, he wondered if he was coming off to strong, was he being to blunt, Apollyon looked up at the moon, he hadn’t noticed how big it was.

His thoughts were banished when Viscountess Hensley spoke again, Apollyon giving her his full attention. “I am glad you like it.” Apollyon then thought on her questions “Yes, it comes from Stone Island, a small island off the northern coast of Dwilight, my family once hailed from the island, for a few decades only my uncle’s family lives there, they are the Daubenys, despite the scribes insisting otherwise, I am not a Daubeny, I am Blackstone Daubeny.”

Apollyon paused to make sure Viscountess Hensley was not getting lost “I was raised there for a few years, then my family was forced from the island and my father took us here to East Continent, we were raised in Shadowdale.” Even thinking back to then made Apollyon sad, he took a long sip from the wine glass. “But I hear from my father’s messages that the island is in Blackstone hands again, for better or worse, all those deaths” the last was mumbled and was nearly audible, Apollyon didn’t mean to but when he spoke next there was a Alamos agitated edge to his words “I do hope I answers were satisfactory, I would say more but...” Apollyon trailed off, he blinked away dark thoughts and smiled again, well as much of a smile as he could manage “The wine is good isn’t it”

MacArbin

5/7/2020

Kenneth smiled, and after one last drink of mead, guided Dustiria out onto the dance floor. While the music quickened as they entered he picked a simple pattern to guide her through, and after a few false starts and stumbles, which he dismissed with a laugh as he pulled her along to start again, she caught the rhythm. He was not surprised, as no warrior could be without the ability to sense timing in her bones, and while they would win no awards they successfully made it through the steps. As the Duke called for the final dainties to be served, he spun her around one last time before bowing over her hand.

"And thus, the first lesson complete! Better than the first time I was put up on a horse, I will say."

Noire

5/7/2020

Dustiria clearly learns to relax quickly in Kenneth's arms. "That was actually fun love. I look forward to more lessons in the future" she kisses his cheek. Then realizes dessert has been served. She tugs him along to where the Duke sits with Alia. "Oh this looks wonderful! I am famished" she takes a seat across the table and digs into some triple chocolate confection"

Hensley

5/8/2020

Elinor’s sympathetic smile was sincere, “Famiies can be…complicated. I’m sorry that your childhood was so disrupted. But, Shadowdale? How came you to Perdan from one of our enemies; well, one of our current enemies certainly.” She drank more deeply of her wine finding that the flavour continued to grow on her. It really was quite a nice wine.

Before her companion could respond, Elinor noticed some commotion about the deck as large trays were being carried onto the ship and into the main party area. Tray after tray…dozens of them…and each one laden with pastries and sweets of all kinds.

“Oh, oh, Sir Apollyon, bring the wine! We must return; they are serving dessert!” Elinor was almost bouncing as she led the way back inside. “Perhaps there will be berry pie with cream, or almond cakes, or crispels, or everything…”

Daubeny

5/8/2020

Apollyon appreciated the sincerity of Elinor’s smile, though he was unable to keep his smile from falling as he thought of his time in Shadowdale, he looked away and was glad when the Viscountess began to focus on dessert “Yes, it seems they are serving dessert” Apollyon sighed “Let is return, perhaps you could help me pick something, I fear I am unfamiliar with sweet foods.”

MacArbin

5/8/2020

As they sat and he reached for a glass of rather rare ice-wine, making a mental note to find the Duke's supplier, a sharp crack caught his attention. The mead had pleasantly fuzzed his senses and reactions, so by the time he turned, all he caught was a quarter of the war council enjoying each other's taste. He shook his head, grinning.

"I am reminded why I appreciate our lack of drama, love."

He enjoyed a rather luxurious sip, and saw Elinor making her way with alacrity towards the table and the delicacies upon it, with Apollyon trailing behind. He gregariously (though carefully, with his precious beverage in hand) waved toward the Viscountess, gesturing toward the empty place on his other side.

"My lady Elinor, please, join us! And you as well Sir Apollyon, if you wish. Plenty of pie and ice-wine to go around, and given the potency of the latter I rather expect that in the near future I may be singing impromptu, in the fine tradition of drunken lords of my homeland!"

His right arm was comfortably around Dustiria, he had good drink, good food, good company, and for once no one was trying to kill him or his. All was right in his world.

Fontaine

5/8/2020

Duke Smiddich withdraws a chair for Alia and bades her sit, before he seats himself beside her. The King himself sits at this table surveying his knights at revelry but eating nothing for himself.

The servants are busy clearing the dinner dishes and putting out the desserts, served with sticky wines sourced from all around the nation; ports, tokays, muscats and other fortified sips. Hot drinks of tea and other stimulants are also distributed in that same bone china from a far away civilisation.

"The tale of this vessel is an old one!", grins the Duke, withdrawing a thin cigar from a packet from the coat hung from this chair. He offers one to the lady before lighting his own, taking a few tentative puffs of fragrant dark smoke and a sup of sweet wine.

"You see, before... all of this", says the Blade Bladed Duke, indicating the fine party, "My men and I plied the sea with a letter of marque. We preyed upon enemy ships, warships mostly, but some armed traders. They'd typically flee or give up as soon as we raised the flag hoping we'd go easy on them, and we did, most times. It was long and treacherous days and nights at sea. This vessel belonged to a King, if you can believe it, of a nation no longer remembered. It was his pride and now mine. For two nights we toyed with one another at range before picking off each others support; we were very nearly outmaneuvered at the last!" He gives his date a keen glance, to make sure he's still keeping her interest.

"The enemy monarch was aboard, you see, and we had permission to do him harm as we were able! As you can imagine, neither the king or his men were content to let us have the ship nor her contents, and it came to blades. If you can imagine the rush of a battlefield, the thrill of a charge and the roar and cry of men nearing their last, then imagine the same at sea! The boats pitch and roll, the deck is treacherous and the fighting is fierce, for there is no retreat. The King's commander and I crossed blades there on the deck!", says the Duke, indicating upwards with his cigar.

"I'll admit, he was nearly the end of me!", says the Duke, with reminiscing in his eyes, "He was fast, but I was young and full of vigor; not half the swordsman I was today, of course, but daring and with my men behind me. I took a blade to the belly, in the end, and he took mine to the throat. The King surrendered the ship to my men, and that Commander left me with quite a scar."

The Duke of Perdan makes to dig into the tails of his shirt, as if to lift and reveal his abdomen, ".... maybe another time. But, before I must read it for myself, how did you ever happen to raise the ire of the Shadowdale council? I've badly wanted to bloody their nose, myself!"

Smiddich remembers a time not so long ago when he plied the Shadowdale Ambassador with gifts and got only snubs in return.

Renodin

5/8/2020

With his arms holding her close, he treasured her. The smell of her hair was forbidden nectar. Proven doubly so as she shoved him. She wasn't much shorter than him. Formidable, powerful and her arms. Even as they powered him away he felt admiration. Having scented the fruit, his eyes roved. Closing them was a task as he wanted to see her. He warred inside. Not wanting to disrespect her. His head cracked to the side. The sting of her flat hand like a hammer-blow. In shock he opened his eyes wide. Her hands weren't done yet, they pulled his face close. Alchemy and Sorcery. The metal forges were often seen. Out of rock they make bronze and steel. Their bodies bonded like those arcane formulas. She pressed herself against him, her fingers sliding past his face as her lips demanded center stage. A welcome vice he never wished released. The brush of her lips never came. She devoured him and he sank into her with raw delight.

When he opened his eyes again she offered him her first words. Just one really, and it made him grin like he just leapt the fiery pit of death itself.

"Sorry!" ~Delphine de Montiny

The real apology her duel kisses before he turned his face and returned her sincerity. Wordlessly he looked at her and spoke volumes. She leaned in and whispered to him. "Next time ask, for permission!". The grin returned to his lips, moist as they remained. Never. He replied. They exchanged a look. It made him hungry but even more than that, it made him happy.

Licking his lips, the initial rush subsided. His mind ventured a suggestion, something had changed. Across the deck tables had reappeared. He craned his neck, allowing his eyes to take in the scene. A long and joined setup had materialized. Grand and filled with spectacular delights. Nemean glanced over at Delphine, catching her eye and he knew which was better without even tasting the other offerings. Duke Smiddich had taken a central position, a giant tiered cake near him on the table. Decorated with goldleaf figurines and expertly crafted marzipan waves of blue. Seated next to Smiddich Nemean could see Dame Aila. Attentively listening to something the Duke was telling her with great ease. Oozing with confidence and charm. Aila's hair was like a radiant halo in the candlelight. Framing her slender face perfectly. Almond eyes never leaving the Duke for long.

Nemean let his hand turn Delphine. Running along her waist until it found a comfortable place at the low of her back. Light as a dancer's touch. As they began to move towards the table he noted Lord Kenneth. The man just turned away and towards Lady Dustiria. Again he presumed. Drawing closer it was obvious King Kay would most likely only observe the deserts. His equivalent of watching paint dry. But exchange paint with ice. He certainly wasn't going to vocalize that thought. Instead he smirked at Delphine. He felt larger than life and exuded more than a little cocksurity.

A chair dared not move at his gaze. He picked it up with far more strength than was needed and nearly flung it. Grasping firmly the back of it. It felt like nothing and it felt great. He matter of factly put it down allowing Delphine to be seated. Pushing it neatly as to seat her properly when she sat down. Before sitting down himself he waited perhaps far too long, looking well to either side of the table. Making sure everyone had time to spot him. He leaned to grasped a glass and filled it from a decanter. A deep amber liquid. The first glass he gave to Delphine. The second he kept for himself, putting the decanter down. Hard enough to make a noise.

Slowly he raised his glass, glancing over to Delphine before he sought eye contact with every other Noble at the table. To never saying sorry! To all the enemies that weep at their defeat! To the Roar of Perdan! To the Duke! To the King! To the last three toasts he slammed his fist into the table with some measured force. Increasingly so each time he toasted. At the last he finished off the glass, which fortunately wasn't the biggest. Putting it down and taking his seat next to Delphine.

His eyes like that of a fox so stolen could they have been. Reaching for a profiterole he made to offer her but didn't, this one was so his. And he ate it. Unabashed.

Chamberlain

5/8/2020

She picked at the dainties as they passed, the corsetry despite giving her a womanly shape left her with little appetite and the evening turned more sour by the second.

She allowed herself the briefest smile as she thought of her meeting with Lord Pryde, but even that meeting was tinged with sadness at his mysterious illness.

Excusing herself she stepped out onto the deck looking into the dark waters, she barely recognised the reflection, a child dressed as a woman she thought angrily having to resist the temptation to unpin her hair and simply leave.

He had asked her to come, and then ignored her the entire night... but she was what her reflection showed, a girl dressed as a woman, but she could not help feeling like the back up. From the activities of many of the ladies that evening she wondered strongly if many of them were maids, despite being unmarried. She had defended her maidenhead from the rape squads in Aix when she was thirteen and would not use it now to engage in the social affairs of this State.

Storme

5/8/2020

The offer of a cigar was politely waved off, secretly she did like the smell of tobacco but never dared to try it for herself. Immediately she knew she had asked the right question as he told his story easily- One he had told before she could tell probably a hundred times; He was good at it, enthralling in fact. A talented storyteller, she decided.

She listened to him leaning in slightly with both eyes glued on himself and the cigar he waved and waggled around as he spoke of naval battle. She had never seen a naval battle herself, but she was familiar with ships enough to appreciate the level of difficulty he was implying. A motion of his hand had and an implied fight with a commander on deck had Aila unwittingly sitting at attention waiting to hear what happened next.

He spoke of defeating an enemy commander, winning the day on his own merit, his prize... Aila felt truly jealous, secretly wishing that her daring attack on a commander had gone half as well. Luckily, that was quickly put aside as he threatened to reveal his scar; she held her breath not sure what to expect.

Thankfully he stopped before she felt her cheeks grow too hot- unthankfully it was replaced with talk of Luna...she would far rather the scar. Aila wavered, reaching for the nearest glass to by herself a few more seconds to cool herself off- remembering MacArbins advice. "The Grey Exarch wrote me out of the blue one day after a battle. She claimed to know /someone/" She paused again, wondering whether she should lie for her dignity or not...Surely not, for there was not much left to worry over after her last encounter with Shadowdale.

"A delinquent named Svari" She said with fake confidence but true ire. "An embarrassment to us, to House Storme" To her, she was essentially alone after all.

"Tempest said she knew her, said she liked her, praised the- her and when I told her that only a do-nothing from Shadowdale would give that the time of day well- Seems she likes to pester. Many times I've thought not to reply yet" She cut herself off from that one "Yet it is so very fun to insult her" A wry smile crept onto her face finally.

Hensley

5/8/2020

Elinor was moving swiftly towards the bountiful sideboard, catching a glimpse of Lord Kenneth’s friendly wave, when Sir Apollyon’s words reached her consciousness. Still moving forward, she gave him a quick glance over her shoulder.

“Unfamiliar with fancy desserts or sweet foods generally, because that last one is quite difficult and…rather suggestive.” Elinor tried to envision how even a peasant child could avoid having some sweets in his diet. Though she supposed a city child might have difficulties finding wild honey, still there were feast days and festivals and it was rare that the lords and masters didn’t distribute some sort of sweetmeats to their people. How more difficult for a noble to miss out on such treats?

Her thoughts did not prevent her from reaching the board and filling her eyes with the overwhelming number of choices. Elinor decided. Lifted a pair of plates from the stack, she handed one to Apollyon, and began to select items for the other.

“Have a plate, good sir, and we shall endeavour to take one of everything. You can taste and decide which treats are delightful and which are a waste of good sugar. There is a place at table near Lord Kenneth and his Lady.”

Daubeny

5/8/2020

Apollyon entered the hall, following the Viscountess, he nodded towards Lord MacArbin, he took the plate from Elinor, blushing slightly, clearly embarrassed by his unfamiliarity with sweet foods, surely he must be the only noble here to have never tried dessert, for him dessert was a slice of bread and cheese with wine.

“So....” Apollyon trailed off looking at all the strange and enticing foods that lay around him “One of Everything? I fear I would become sick if I ate that much” Apollyon then shrugged “But I suppose it is a party, very well, lead the way Viscountess Hensley”

Fontaine

5/8/2020

"Yet it is so very fun to insult her" A wry smile crept onto her face finally. - Lady Aila Storm

Smiddich takes a long draft of his drink, a puff of his cigar, and blows out the dark smoke sideways away from his date. The Duke ate sparingly of dessert, though everything looked delicious; he saved room for cake, carving it himself and serving generous slices to those partaking. A nod of thanks to Sir Nemean for his speech and cheer; a queer glance at the Marshall and ex-Marshall sitting next to once another, seeming to be getting along better despite the redness to Nemeans cheeks.

"For all that I am, and have been the Ambassador for Perdan", says the Pirate Knight, "There is very little possible within the realms of diplomacy. I too, find myself frustrated with the boneheadedness of our enemies - and a few of our allies - and can't help but feel if either us or them were able to make a concerted effort, it would be an end to the entire fracas!", he takes his pie and custard and finishes it in hungry bites, rattling the spoon around in the fine china bowl. "It all comes down to jibes and insults in the end. Did you know, when Perdan were beset by five enemies, I begged them to finish us! We were buttoned up in the capital while their armies laid utter waste to the regions we have since reclaimed, and I bade them, for Titan's sake, just end it!". He drains the last of his plum brandy and licks his lips.

"But they didn't - and now they can't!", he grins at the last, "Because we held out, and now stronger than ever. There are cracks in the rock of the Northern alliance that we shatter with our boldness!". A cheer goes up nearby from some who overheard him.

He turns to Aila, then, and takes her hand in his, "Come on; let me show you the rest of the ship. The gala is nearly done and I shall not deprive this city of its knights for much longer!"

Storme

5/8/2020

Wanting to seem more worldly then she was Aila avoided any mention of how she was far too young to remember those days he spoke of, having only joined the Golden lions less then two years ago. She listened close to his story however, soaking up any information she could about this Duke and what he had done for the realm she grew up in. Insulting Shadowdale was turning our to be the quickest way to her heart, as the eavesdropper cheered Aila raised her glass to them, the two of them sharing a drink in the name of the Duke.

As his large hand enclosed hers and offered a tour she resisted bragging that she already had and instead went very happily along with Smidditch to see anything he wanted to show her. Their time together was running short now as the evening stretched on, and after those inspiring tales Aila was determined to make a lasting impression now on who she thoughts must've been the most interesting man on earth.

In a smooth motion her hand slid from his up to his elbow so they could walk arm in arm as he lead her through the ship that had been polished to gleaming end to end before the Gala. Out of sight of the others Lady Storme not so Subtly tugged at his sleeve, peeking at the markings underneath- she was more interested in Smidditch right now then the ship he so loved yet Aila complimented the Wayfarer, because it was a fine ship but also because she could feel the love he had for it and the care he put into it as a result. He lead her through the fine rooms she hadn't had access to before, decked in a fashion most befitting the king who commissioned the Gambit. As a woman she had to appreciate the tidiness, apart from items left by guests it was tidier then she would expect a lone mans chamber to be. Aila made comments on the ship the whole way; How she must've been a terror to see on the horizon, what it must be like to have the freedom of a ship like her under his command.

The Duke soon lead her into a master suite which only momentarily raised the alert system all noble women seemed to have built in, another woman passed out on his bed dashed those thoughts immediately. He seemed not to notice the other girl at all as he leader her straight past and onto a balcony that stood at the back of the Gambit, facing the City of Perdan.

Outside the evening air tussled the loose blonde curls that hung over her shoulder, away from the braziers and activity the night air held a chill that made her skin prickle. Yet, like most nobles of Perdan she was a soldier and so hardly noticed such a small thing, instead focusing on Fontaine alone. "You've built such an amazing life for yourself with these hands" she said with sincere admiration, fingers brushing over fingers piled with large rings. "I'm willing to bet every one of these has a story to go with it, just as exciting as the last."

Fontaine

5/9/2020

Smiddich gave a generous but abbreviated tour of the ship; it used to be crewed by a substantial host, and many of the interior rooms had since been merged and refitted to boast greater rooms. In fact, the gala would not have been possible in the original configuration. A great dining hall, luxurious gallery and a slew of private suites and dens were part of the Dukes great plan to turn the 'Gambit into a floating museum.

Her hand in his was not unwelcome; hers was smaller but not shaking with nerves as she inspected his forearms. They were strong, bristling with dark hair and darker tattoos of the sea and the creatures that dwelled within. Sigils of omen and proficiency; crossed cannons in the crook of one elbow signified military naval service, a knot of rope around the wrist, a nautical star by which he could always find his way home. The Duke seemed not to mind the attention at all.

The staff were rushing past the couple now; they were busy boxing up leftover treats and cake in waxed paper, gathering mugs and tankards, gingerly retrieving all the fine china. No-one was so deep in their cups that moving them on would prove too difficult, save for Reno who had not moved a muscle since she had been deposited on the bed. Duke Smiddich paid her little attention as he snatched up his fine jacket from the chair of his desk, and draped it over Aila's shoulders. The coat was darkly embroidered, and long on her to the knees, warmly lined with something soft. It smelled like him; smoke and metal.

The Duke of black blades allowed their fingers to wend together at the railing. The river was rushing fast towards the bay and the galleon tugged on her moorings. Though soft lights shone from his suite through a hardened wall of window bricks, the city was brighter from here despite the hour, illuminating their faces. "Rain tomorrow", he said, inspecting the clouds and breaking the silence.

"If you'd only known what these hands had done", said Smiddich, looking down at her, lit by moonlight, "You might not be so charitable. But what I do for Perdan is the greatest privilege. It is my honor to serve her.", he nodded. "Perhaps I'll tell you a tale or two when...."

There was a cough ahem from the cabin; a steward of the ship and one of the Dukes trusted men. "The King, your Grace....", he started, diverting his eyes from the scene with practiced decorum, and Smiddich dismissed with a gesture. The guests would be leaving soon, and so must the Duke of Perdan bid everyone fair well. The steward departed with a snap of his heels.. there would be only moments of privacy left.

Just like that, Aila felt his warm hand slide across her back; she gripped the railing to steady herself, at first. He was impossibly close, but not unwelcomely so. The once-pirate bent his neck to her as his other hand brushed fingers into her hair. Her hands took in the details of his strong back and shoulders as their lips met in a breathless, heady kiss. It seemed to linger for an eternity, their feet shifting slightly as the pressed against one another.

Finally parting, they took each a gasping breath, and Aila watched his eyes inspecting hers for doubts.

Storme

5/9/2020

For a short moment she thought the moment had gone, the troubles of fighting men were not something new to her nor any woman of Perdan after so long at war. A stewards arrival interrupted the Duke, and she tore her eyes away from him to observe this new man, actively avoiding her gaze. As he revealed that she was taking the time of a man who the king wanted personally, Aila tugged the borrowed jacket shut tight to block the breeze in a silent protest against this Steward.

Expecting that they would leave at once, Aila was caught off guard by the sensation of a hand across her back, reaching thoughtlessly for the polished rail behind her. Strong hands steadied her and as their lips met fleetingly she thought; He kisses like he dances. Without time for nervousness Aila's hands acted on a whim after wrapping her arms around broad shoulders taking the chance to explore a sailors physique up close.

Once they parted she could tell he was studying her face- something inside her wondered if he felt as nervous about her intentions as she was about his. For once the heat in her cheeks wasn't for embarrassment and her expression was one of daring...Yet she knew what had to be done in the end, as their time together grew so short.

Saying nothing yet Aila brushed her hair to the side, reaching into her hair and deftly pulling a comb free from it. A silver Falcon similar the one on her necklace yet this one was mid-flight rather then sitting at attention pressed into his palm, the metal cold in his palm as she moved close to him again purring "If you tell anyone I let you kiss me tonight..." She left another kiss on his jaw, daringly close to the neck before continuing "I'll strike you down myself".

He would only get a glance of her smile as she masked her glee with a swift retreat, intending to disappear in the crowd with her prize, a wonderful smelling jacket that clearly marked her favor with a dashing Duke.

Pryde

5/9/2020

Benjamin saw the young Lady Lorelai walk out to the boat's rail and decided to join her.

It had grown hot and stuffy inside, and despite his general dislike of boats and the sea, it certainly smelled better by the rail.

He pulled in a deep breath of the salt-tinged air, forced himself not to grimace at it, and just enjoyed the fresh breeze on his face.

"What do you think of the party, Lady Lorelai?" he asked after a moment.

MacArbin

5/9/2020

Kenneth's view of everything was somewhat fuzzy by this point, but he cheered and stomped with both Nemean and Smiddich's words, though he wasn't quite certain he heard everything correctly. "To the Lore of Perdan" sounded an odd toast, but after all why not? Excellent history in this place.

His smile broadened as Elinor and Apollyon joined them, gesturing grandly to the spread.

"No shortages tonight my lady, good sir! And I see milady has a proper sweet tooth, excellent! I highly recommend the cream here with the berries, something has been done to it. Honey, certainly, but a few spices as well I think. Ooh, and how is that? It looked rather fascinating, I have to admit, but I am not at all certain how one eats it without a sticky mess everywhere."

He slid over the delicate decanter of the ice wine he had been enjoying.

"And this is marrr-ve-lllous, do have a taste."

He was cheerfully swaying a bit with the gentle movements of the boat, as he kept half an eye on Dustiria. She had not quite the same experience with parties as he, and he still had plans for her later. Couldn't have her too drunk to enjoy them.

Fontaine

5/10/2020

"If you tell anyone I let you kiss me tonight...I'll strike you down myself" Lady Aila Storme

"I daresay I'd never see it coming", said the Duke with a slow smile, as Aila turned and left, his jacket about her shoulders. He heard tell that Lady Storme was adept at placing sharp missiles in sensitive places at extreme distances; something he was not yet keen to experience.

The Gala was winding down. Some of the diehards were still eating and drinking, but the rest were waiting for King Kay to leave first so that they too could head home. Smiddich made special considerations with the stewards to _disembark_ Lady Reno before it was time for him to retire.

At the first lantern extinguished - a sign that it was time to clear out - the pirate knight stationed himself on the deck by the gangplank, so that he could wish each reveler a good night. Wax paper parcels of carved cake and bakery treats were offered on departure; a silversmith had minted a silver medallion to commemorate the event. On the one side, a remarkable likeness of the 'Gambit at sea, and the other the Perdan coat of arms. Though small, they gleamed fresh from the forge and high with polish. The Duke shook or took the hands of each guest as they left; genuine hugs and back slaps were given and received by his closest compatriots.

Smiddich sighed with satisfaction; despite the proximity to the 'Stump (where he maintained a generous suite), he'd stay here tonight. There was something about the way the river shone in the morning sun, and glittered in through the aft window that was comforting. Besides, he'd always felt more comfortable sleeping on the water than the land.

A successful Gala, then. Spirits were raised and a good time had by all. Skills were showcased and not a little drama. His thoughts went wistfully back to a certain Lady Knight, who revealed not a smirk of their tryst on departure. His fingers sought the silver falcon pinned inside his collar; he'd have to follow that intrigue, in time....

Not least of all, to get his jacket back.

Peregrine

5/10/2020

After much drinking, dancing and rejoicing the Gala was finally running its course. Some guests have already left, on their own feet or being carried away. Many were still conversing, reflecting upon the wonderful evening. Their eyes flashed in the dim light of numerous lamps: excited, tired, tipsy, mirthful. Here and there couples snuggled in darker nooks and crannies of the vessel. The human noise subsided and those still on the ship enjoyed the ceaseless whisper of the flood tide.

Kay was very tired. His energy was not very high and his troubles too numerous. He tried his best to be polite and speak with every knight or dame that would approach him during the Gala. But after the dancing and performances started, public's attention seemed to have veered off him altogether. Those passing the host's table now could notice that the king's chin rested firmly on his chest, which rose and fell in the measured rhythm of deep sleep. The crown on his head was seemingly light, but it weighed heavily on his flaccid neck it seemed. Even in his sleep he was not rid of his great burden. Kay's healthy eye was fast shut, while his fake eye remained open, casting a sinister murky glare across the table. Midnight was curled in his lap, also asleep.

In the small hours of the night Detlef, the new captain of the king's guard, arrived with a small procession of manservants carrying a palanquin. And thus the dozing king disembarked the vessel.

Chamberlain

5/10/2020

"Lord Pryde!" She forced a brittle smile, quickly softening with genuine warmth: "you have truly been the hilight of the evening for me" she sighed a little. "The air is bracing, is it not?"

She breathed deeply, glad of the gentle breeze: "I have rarely been on boats, I do not even know what type of boat this might be... but i remember well my father bringing me from Dwilight as a child. That boat seemed so big to a childs eyes, yet seeing the vast grandeur of His Grace's vessel I wonder if it were truly so or just the tricks a childs eyes puts on the world... sometimes I feel barely older than that day I arrived."

"The Gala has not been what I expected, Lord Pryde, I had hoped to find a sense of belonging and yet I have found even more this night that I am yet an alien in this culture and I am not sure that I can adapt to be less so." She brushed down her skirts. "I'm sorry, I was bade come here by one... I dont know, one I admired I suppose and I have been left feeling a bit of a fool I suppose." She was struck once again by the lack of grace she was showing talking at such length only about herself to a man with always so much to do, and so sadly little time to do it. Biting back the final shreds of decorous behaviour she took his hand again.

"I am sorry to be so forward Lord Pryde and please feel free to tell me it is naught of my business... but I must ask: what is it ails you? You seemed so vital as we danced I find it hard to imagine what could cut such vitality short?"

Pryde

5/11/2020

Benjamin listened to the girl rattle on, too fast for him to fully follow as normal. She was an odd one, that was for sure. But he would be able to study her words more closely once he retired to make more sense of her. In the meantime, he let his eyes follow her most obvious subject. The boat around them and the glimmering silver sea below them.

He grimaced at her final question sighed before answering.

"I just don't like boats. Or the sea. Or boats ON the sea." Benjamin grumped in irritation. "Nothing good comes of either of them."

Then something she said dinged like a bell into his memory. Something about her taking a boat from Dwilight.

"Present company excepted of course," Benjamin inserted smoothly before she could take offense. Hopefully.

Chamberlain

5/11/2020

She was a little in awe of Lord Pryde, he faced death with a quiet nobility and even now brushed aside her concern with valorous grace and the quickest of excuses.

"I find it odd that one would moor a ship and keep it as a floating palace when it would be so much more prudent to use it as a troop barge and take apartments in the city." She gave a cursory glance around the deck. "A torch and a barrel of pitch and this vessel would e as so much driftwood on the beach. " She shuddered a little remembering the smoke and flames as the older wooden structures burnt in Aix.

"Lord Pryde, you are a veteran of diplomacy. Must I tarry here waiting to be dismissed or can we... I... leave?"

Pryde

5/11/2020

Benjamin looked out on the water again and suppressed a frown before answering Lady Lorelai's question.

"I remain here as long as the King does. When he leaves, I will be free to leave as well."

Then he turned to scan the party that was getting rather long in the tooth as things went. He chuckled and leaned back against the rail to give them all a good look. Even the musicians were beginning to look, and sound, a bit on the haggered side.

"You may leave whenever you wish to. A party quickly becomes a chore when you wish to do something more fun. Like...getting out of this ridiculous court dress and relaxing," Benjamin finished with a wry smile.