Le Craint Family/Mariana le Craint/The Tournament In Rines
Mariana, Maura and Marcus
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus ran about, the pavilions had been set up earlier this morning and there were finally enough tables and chairs for at least 300 nobles and their parties if not more, the sword fighting area had been set up and watered so the rough dirt was a slick mud, whilst the jousting rows were located a little over to the right of the Sword fighting arena and the training area set up to the right.
"Steward!" the scribe once again walked over tapping their checklist "Almost everything seems to be in order, all we need is to sort out the entertainment." Marcus nodded and took the list of possible entertainers, Jugglers, Actors, a Circus?, Singers, Bands "Tell them all to meet me by the beach in 2 hours, I will then see what their performances are like." Marcus then walked over to the training yard it was there he spotted a familiar face amongst those training, he walked over and called out to his friend "Countess le Craint!" he noticed that something seemed different about her but only slightly different, Marcus too had changed since the party, he wore the black and silver of Steward and had opted to shave his beard and cut his hair shorter, he hoped that she would still recognise him. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| Finally, she had arrived. The long journey to the tournament grounds had been tiring. She approached the stables, offering the leads to a nearby stablehand and gave him a gold piece. She unsheathed her sword and unclipped her pack from the horses back. She dusted herself down and headed towards the entrance. A steward holding a piece of parchment, surrounded by armed guards, caught sight of Mariana and stood at attention. He inspected his list once more before turning and bowing before her.
"Greetings Countess Mariana le Craint. Welcome to the tournament grounds. A tent has been set up for you just within the courtyard. If there is anything else you need, do not hesitate to ask." Mariana gave the man a gentle smile and entered into the grounds. The man cleared his throat and announced her arrival. "Countess Mariana le Craint has arrived." Mariana reached her tent. She threw back the flaps of the tent and pushed her way in. The interior was rather luxurious for a simple tent. A large double bed with a screen placed before it. An extravagant vanity with a large crystal mirror, lined with makeup and powders. Mariana shrugged this off and placed her pack at the end of her bed. She checked behind her before taking out simple leathers and pieces of polished armour. She reached behind her and unlatched the clasp on her dress. Carefully piecing together each segment of armour. She had chosen a different set of armour to her usual type. This set was more appropriate for a parade rather than actual combat but it would serve itself within the bounds of the tournament. Before long she was ready. She took a hold of her dagger first. Inspecting the blade and the pommel, she placed it onto the holster on her boots. She then took a hold of her blade. Polished and never used, it shined unnaturally in the candle light. She smiled and stepped outside her tent towards the training grounds. As she was testing her sword arm, striking ferociously into the air before her. She has began to amass a small crowd of people around her. Mostly comprised of officials and others who were competing. However, mid swing, she heard a voice she recognised. She stopped and turned her head. She sheathed her sword, approached the man and held out her hand in greeting. "Steward Marcus Daubeny, it is good to see you again." She looked him over, he had changed since they last met. More experienced some would say, but it was still the same man that invited her to the ball. "How have you been, it must have been at least a season since we last met. A change in style? I must say it suits you greatly, quite dashing indeed." She laughed politely, leading Marcuc away from the public training grounds towards a private stand that had been set up for nobles. "Have you come to partake in the tournament or are you just here inspecting the grounds? I must say I am quite excited, this is my first tournament afterall, a test to see if my time in the army has yielded anything." | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus slightly blushed, "Thank you Countess Mariana, I thought it would do me well to change my look to be more "Official" looking."
He followed her over to the private stands of the nobility, "Have you come to partake in the tournament or are you just here inspecting the grounds? I must say I am quite excited, this is my first tournament afterall, a test to see if my time in the army has yielded anything." "I am participating but It is mostly my job to oversee the Oracle's party as I am technically the run running it though it was the Oracle who declared it, I too am quite excited from what I saw back there you have quite a good arm on you, you will most certainly be a terrifying opponent t face, I almost feel sorry for the poor nobles who will have to face you and I hope I am not one of them." | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura stumbled clumsily through the enclosed noble area of the tournament grounds, when suddenly she noticed a shape that she recognized after brief yet intense recollection.
"Lady Mariana!" - she rasped, grabbing at the air as if to set her course towards long missed acquaintance. She was not even halfway there when she noticed an agreeable young gentleman in Mariana's company. She stopped immediately and spoke in a tone much too loud for discreet matters: "Forgive me! I didn't mean to intrude upon your trysting! Carry on!" Then she turned on her heel and walked back hurriedly towards the training area. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| "You exaggerate. I am still mostly inexperienced in martial combat, this kind at least."
She chuckled slightly, tapping the pommel of her sword. "Well I shall be interested in seeing how you fight. This gives us a chance to assess the nobles ability and show off what we have learned. I am quite excited for it. You have done a wonderful job so far, I shall continue to look out for it." Mariana craned her neck slightly, she overheard a voice she recognised. One that she had not heard in such a long time, one that was unmistakable. Mariana laughed at this. She couldn't hold it in. Her joy over such a reunion was too much. She turned once again to Marcus. "Sir Marcus, would you mind allowing Lady Maura to join us? We shall have to continue this... trysting... another time." She smiled and winked towards Marcus before towards the direction that Maura. She hadn't got too far away. Mariana took a few steps forward and in a similar voice to Maura, mimicking her lack of discretion, she called out to her. "Lady Maura, a moment of you time if you may." She smirked, holding out her hand. There was a moment of awkwardness, unsure as to whether going in for a hug was too much. Settling on a handshake. "I... still cant quite believe it. Its is good to see you well. What happened? If you dont mind me asking. Your letter was.. surprising to say the least." | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus looked surprised when he heard a new voice call out to Mariana.
He turned and saw a another noble approach she seemed a bit embarrassed when her gaze settled on him she turned and left, He was about to tell Mariana that of course she could join them when he heard the familiar rasp of, "Steward!" The scribe hobbled over, "The Entertainers are ready by the beach." Marcus nodded and looked back to the exchange between the newcomer and Mariana, "Just a moment." He told the scribe. He was just about to walk over when Mariana say, "I... still cant quite believe it. Its is good to see you well. What happened? If you dont mind me asking. Your letter was.. surprising to say the least." He stopped and decided to leave these two to their reunion, he quickly said to Mariana as he walked away "Lady Mariana I must take my leave if you and Lady Maura are in the mood, do come down to the beach later, I have a felling I will be there of a while" He walked off towards the beach with the scribe following writing furiously on his checklist. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura motioned to departing nobleman as soon as he was out of an earshot: "Good pick. Comely. Seems to have his wits about him. Favoured by the Oracle, since she allows him handle..." - she waved her finger in air pointing at all the features of the tournament - "... this."
Once the ladies were alone Maura took Mariana by the arm, prompting her former protege to guide them in a slow stroll to a more convenient spot, all the while talking vividly, yet keeping the tone of voice reasonably conspirational. Maura was much thinner and certainly shakier than the last time they saw each other, she was holding younger Inquisitor's arm tightly enough so that she could steady herself and evoke at least a mockery of the image she used to be - a formidable warrior, a motionless sentinel, a shield of the Faith; now merely a shadow of her former self, yet a shadow content with her ability to act her part. "The odd letter... yes..." - her face darkened - "let's just say I meddled with things I didn't quite understand, I thought I had control when I had none and learnt my mistake too late..." - she continued in a hurried whisper, barely audible: "...no that's not right not too late too late would be with me not here at all would it not yes it would..." - "... where was I? Just in time! Is when I've... learnt." They leisurely walked several more meters - "Certainly one ought to come equipped with something better than parlor tricks when attempting to enslave a beast from beyond the veil, and most certailny one ought not apply trivial intelect to otherworldly matters... Good Mariana! How things have changed! I recall sending Lord Divus and Sir Ferdinand off to rain misery upon Mordok heretics and now I hear they seat half the Grand Council. I defended southern border with little more than stones and pitchforks against endless hordes and now I see maps of the Holy Realm stretch from coast to coast. One might think that Obeah Herself walked the earth to bring us to the light." Another couple of steps they passed - "and you! Dear, you must tell me of your exploits, as promissed. I recall my time in those exact same boots most fondly. Tell me, what is the most curious one as of yet." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| Mariana smiled as they began to walk. The mistake about Mariana and Marcus made by Maura was most amusing to Mariana. She did not wish to dispel that rumor just yet. She thought to herself; Maybe this will cause ire in Ferdinand mind also.
As they walked, Mariana kept a good grip on Maura. Ensuring that she did not stumble and fall. The occasional slip on the ground was just about the only worry. The crowds were beginning to move around. Others were beginning to arrive at the tournament and the guests attention were spread thin. They could easily slip away from the crowds. Mariana listened as Maura rambled on, all the more concerned. What could have happened to cause such a change of character. However, she wished not to press the issue further. Instead, she enjoyed their stroll around the tournament grounds. Oh she had so much to say, so much she wanted to say. She thought for a moment of how she would phrase this. "Well, it is certainly true that a lot has changed. That much is for certain. While Mordok still lives, their unholy land has been desecrated. For a moment, we worried for the safety of the Grandmistress, who took a wound. We were lucky to see that she recovered." She glanced around, ensuring they were along before whispering in a hushed tone. "While I personally do not know what has happened to those who once lived in those vile lands, my hopes is that they not to far so that I may bring them their punishment." She smiled and winked at Maura before continuing to speak. "Our borders have grown a lot. From a time when we had little, we now have a lot. Lands stretching all across out little peninsula. Obeah has blessed our realm truly. Even giving me the opportunity to become a countess, something I was unsure if I would ever see. Now I look after Bolkenia, a land that had been left uncontrolled for so long. Only recently I had to purge some worshipers of daimonic entities. However, you ask specifically about my deeds, now that is an interesting story." Calmness came over Mariana as she though of the peace of the wilds. The ruins of the known world with little company. "My travels took me far beyond these hold lands. Up north as far as the ruined city of Dyomoque. As far west as Worvobaen. I have seen much in my travels. At times, I greatly miss those days. My hopes are they I shall spend another season or so with the army then return to the wilds." She leaned in closely to Maura and whsipered again in a hushed tone. "The gold that was found lying around in the wilds has provided much to our realm. Through donations to the army's and to the rebuilding of Bolkenia, it has been most useful." She laughed again. The two of them continued walking. The smell of roasting meet had filled the air as the spits had been prepared for the evening feast. Mariana raised her nose and took a deep sniff. "It seems they are preparing a feast of a kind. Would you care to join me? I could tell you more about my encounters in the wilds. Especially one surprising encounter with a knight." | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| "A feast..." - Maura felt moisture accumulating in her mouth - "... yes. Let's." - she jabbed Mariana with her elbow to imply urgency and sniffed the air for aroma of a roast. "And do tell me of those encounters. A knight in the wilds does sound like a wild tale." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| Mariana took a tight hold of Maura's arm and led them towards the origins of the smell. A large fire pit with a range of different meats were strung up on polls over the fire. A very proud looking chef was twirling a roasting hog on a spit while sous chefs rushed around with plate of other meats and foodstuffs. Mariana led them towards a table nearby the fire pit where other nobles had begun to gather. Promptly a well dressed server came over, a woollen cloth resting over his arm.
"Greetings Lady Maura, Countess Mariana, Can I get you something to drink? We have a fine selection of wines that have been imported just for this occasion as well as ales from all across the continent." Mariana pondered for a moment, looking towards Maura who was fideting slightly in her chair. "Bring a bottle of wine, the finest import from Dwilight. I have a craving for a taste of home." The man quickly departed and left Mariana and Maura to themselves. Mariana leaned back in her chair, listening to the crackling of the fire. "Now where was I... oh yes of course. The man in the wilderness. Now that is an interesting story. It was during my expedition to Dyomoque. I was preparing to set up camp when I found recent tracks of another, as if they had just been there. I decided to follow, for my personal safety and curiosity. Turns out, it was made by a noble named Alyn Fontaine.." She paused for a moment, seeing if that name came with a response from Maura. "I managed to leave a letter for him to find, to see what kind of response I would get. He agreed to meet with me that evening. The two of us talked for quite some time, I learnt much about Nothoi from him. Information I am certain will prove valuable one day." Finishing her sentence, the server came back with a bottle of red wine. He took two polished crystal glasses and placed them on the table. Uncorked the wine and poured the deep red liquid into the glasses. The wine fell still and settled like an untouched lake on a winters morning. He bowed and departed once again. Mariana took a hold of the glass, sniffed deeply into the wine. Memories of home flooded her mind. She took a sip and was transported to her home. The sounds, the smells, all if it felt real. Feelings she had not had since she was younger filled her mind. She smiled and looked towards Maura, she held up her glass. "How about a toast? To the good ol' times and the unpredictable future." | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura took in the smell of wine and put the fragile vessel back down. "You forgot I don't drink anymore. Spirits give elation but tax a hefty price on some." - she motioned for hesitating Mariana, conveying in her gesture that it is alright for her to drink.
"The other carnal sensations must suffice." - she pulled back the sleeves of a modest noble outfit, not denoting her as an Inquisitor or anyone other than a simple noble for that matter, and she pointed for a servant to cut her a slice of the roast. In between crude bites Maura continued - "speaking of carnal sensations - Nothoian knight in a forest, was the steward not jealous? During my time in the wilds trolls were the most interesting company I ever got to occupy my evenings..." - just as she was talking her eyes shot up in surprise, seeing a familiar shape approach the steward. "Blast it!" - she cursed wiping her hands in her overcoat as she turned around to hide her presence - "show me your quarters here. I mean - please..." - Maura courtesied, likely for the first time in her life, it looked as if she sprained an ankle - "dear Mariana, do you perhaps have, uhm... impractical attire?" | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura was just heading with Mariana to the camp by the tournament grounds when the horns gave sound - final preparations, melee combat was about to begin.
She shrugged - "ah, Mariana, no matter. I will go to the arena now." And she departed. Her old plate armour awaited her on an armour stand. It took her a while to put it on and when she did she noticed that it seems much heavier than before. She picked up a one-and-a-half-handed sword and it too was much heavier than when she wielded it a long time ago. She quickly made her way to the arena. As her visor fell her smile rose behind it, for opposite her she saw Alacrix. The last time the two fought was very enjoyable. She wondered if this time would be alike. "Sir Alacrix!" - she shouted - "may Obeah bless this fight." She changed at her opponent, sword raised high. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
Tournament Activity
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian rode into the tournament grounds and looked around the area. He was amazed at how quickly everything had come together. He found the grounds where his tent was pitched and entered. There were simple accommodations, a few chairs and tables, a rather large cot, and plenty of tobacco.
He noticed a large trunk by his cot, it housed his various sets of armor and weaponry. He nodded his approval before strapping on one of his favorite sword and sword belts and venturing through the grounds. He saw the former Grand Chancellor showing off, Vahanian judged the man's skill with a practiced eye and moved on. He found his way to the blademasters large tent and asked for the honor of a sparring session, they obliged him and he worked with them for an hour or two. Slowly at first, exercising the fatigue and tiredness from his muscles. Then he began to pick up the speed and intensity. The blademaster he sparred with was far superior but didn't press his advantage, just simply held Vahanian at bay until Vahanian adapted. It was a unique teaching method, and one that Vahanian responded to well. His mind soared at the challenge. He filed away the style for future study and use. After his training session Vahanian thanked the men, paid them their fee and left the tent to wander some more. He wondered at who else would arrive. He wished his pupil, Ferdinand, would be able to attend, but knew all too well that matters of state often prevented the luxury of attending such events. He would have enjoyed their sparring match. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian leaned against the support pole for a tent as he watched Jorvik show off again, smoke wafted from his lips and nostrils and surrounded him like a shroud as he puffed on his pipe. A shaky, yet vaguely familiar voice called out to the young knight from a half-hidden chair.
"It can't be.." Vahanian muttered to himself. Her form was familiar, and yet foreign. Where confidence and sturdiness once stood, was now occupied by a shakiness and an almost fragility. The familiar individual looked his way, and Vahanian knew in an instant it was true. A face can change, hair can change, gestures, mannerisms can all be changed, but eyes remain the same. He saw it in her eyes, it was Maura. Vahanian's oldest friend and councilor emerged from the tent and muttered something to Vahanian and he shook his head, not lifting his gaze from Maura. "No, leave her be, she knows where to find us." Baldwin seemed put off by that statement and Vahanian reassured him "Trust me, there are maybe two places we could hide in the city that she wouldn't find us. She knows the tunnels that run under the city like the back of her hand." Baldwin muttered back to his lord "What tunnels?" Vahanian smiled a wolfish smile and said "Exactly." | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| The horse was settled and the day was waning into the early evening as Ruairí made his final check. It had been but a few hours before when he had received the reply from the Grand Templar to give him leave to join the tournament, and Ruairí wasn't one to waste time. His Captain Morena was the first person he informed, as she would be the defacto leader of his Kestrels while he was away. Next came the meeting with Morena, Colm, and Maebh, the full leadership of his unit, to go over the training plan for the soldiers while he was gone. The rest of his morning had been making the final preparations to Rines.
"Alright lads, I'm off to make a damned fool of myself. So that means you will have to make up for me until I get back. I expect the best of you in the guarding of our holy land, follow the Captain's orders, and show the honor of our band." The youthful Lord would say astride his horse and framed in the golden rays of the sun. His hazel hues eyes cast a final glance over the assembled lot and with a grin he gave his final parting shot, "Who knows next time you see me you might be addressing the tournament's champion." His exuberance carried on the playful manner to which he spoke as Ruairí was well aware of his abilities. His goal was simply to make a good showing and build connections. The politics being of equal, if not greater import to the lad. With a final cheer from his Kestrels sounding at his back Ruairí set off. Off to Rines, and off to the adventure that awaited. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Agamemnon Polemistis | |
| Agamemnon enters Rhines nervously. This is his first time entering a tournament. And he knows many accomplished and skilled swordsmen and women will be here. He does not want to look foolish. He focuses a moment and realizes that even being young, he has already accomplished much.
"This is what you have been working towards," Agamemnon said to himself. "All the times you missed getting into trouble with your friends, you were swinging a sword or learning how to lead in battle. Stand tall, and carry your name proudly. She is always watching and is the reason you are on this path." He continues walking down the familiar streets and past his previous estate. The hustle and bustle of the city brings a smile across his face. He takes in a deep breath, and upon exhaling realizes that today truly begins the tale of Agamemnon Polemistis. | |
| Agamemnon Polemistis | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| As soon as Marcus arrived to the Tournament Grounds a scribe ran straight for him "Steward!" he called.
"I am so glad you are here there are many things that must be overseen, food, entertainment and many other things." He nodded and took the check list from the scribe. "Let us begin by setting up the Pavilions and acquiring tables and seats." He started walking around the new tournament grounds, it had a very beautiful view of the sea and he had heard there was a beach nearby. As he walked past the Grand stand he noticed that it was very, well, Grand. It was made of mahogany and polished to a shine, he noticed the booth that was shaded and decorated with a thin cloth of deep purple, clearly this is where the Grand Mistress and the Oracle will be seated. "Steward? Are you listening?" Marcus turned back to the scrub "Sorry my mind was elsewhere." The scribe nodded and repeated himself "We have many chefs coming far and wide to try and serve food here at the Oracles party, it is up to you to choose whose cuisine will be served to our Esteemed guests." Marcus smiled at the prospect of taste testing all this food "How many dishes must I pick?' The scribe looked at the list "40 or so Steward." Marcus now looked mildly concerned, how many dishes must he try? | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| It was a long journey to Rines but he finally made it. He looked around the grounds at the people he would be up against. He was taken aback to see The Oracle herself fighting as well as priestess Eva. Well this will be interesting, he thought. To Alacrix there was only one person that he was on the lookout for. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| The day of the tournament was fast approaching and already many of those seeking to participate had filled the streets of Rines. That most holy of cities was a buzz with life, music, the call of the merchants selling their wares, and Ruairí found himself there in the midst of it all. It filled the dark haired youth with a greater vibrancy as he was able to truly take in his adopted homeland and her people in a way he had not yet had the privilege to do since arriving on Beluaterra. Surely it must have been a blessing of Obeah that his arrival had coincided so well with the timing of the tournament.
In the days that had passed Ruairí's time was often split between the training grounds, his own minor pavilion, and the taverns at night. It was early on that the young knight decided to forgo training with the sword. Even in his youth it had never been the weapon he had proven well with, and why he took up the bow when he did. So it was the joust that Ruairí dedicated himself to bettering in. The lad knew he wasn't likely to win the grand prize of the tournament, but he did seek to give the best showing he could and the joust offered him the best opportunity. So day and night the knight could be found working with his horse, steadying his arm and his aim, and the progress gained actually was beginning to bare fruit. It left certain ideas for the future, but that was for a different time. When not training Ruairí was keeping up with the politics of the realm. The back and forths, and sending his own private missives out here and there to make some of the moves to see his goals furthered. When the path was revealed and his suspicion confirmed he had set pen to paper to reaffirm his convictions. "This will change so much." Ruairí mused in the privacy of his pavilion, "I suppose it will be interesting to see what they all have to say." The young knight added with a chuckle as he left the comfort of the pavilion and made his way to one of the taverns to celebrate the coming birth of a new realm in the land. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| The Oracle had summoned Lord Herald Eva to attend her at High Noon, right in the very midst of the ongoing Tournament and attendant celebrations. Eva was not late, but it was a minor pilgrimage up the wound halls and stairways of the immense palace that was The Basilica of Rines. The journey was enough to exhaust the physically-able, much more so those who lead more sedentary lifestyles. Eva could understand how the Oracle, widely known as a reclusive woman, would value the...natural discouragement to ward off all but the most determined of callers. To say nothing of the security! It felt to Eva as though she were stopped and challenged without end by the Oracle's Paladins, blue-armored sentinels that patrolled the Basilica in pairs and stood guard at various points all the way to the Oracle herself. What's more, Eva noted, they all seemed to know exactly who she was and what business she was on, yet still each pair queried her as if they knew nothing of the sort. To call the unnatural barriers the Oracle erected around herself substantial would be something of an understatement. Small wonder why half the court thought the Oracle a mystery.
Then, as the bells of noon began to ring across the Moonlight City, Eva was at last admitted to the Oracle's foremost sanctum. The Solarium was the architectural marvel of the Basilica of Rines. Placed at the pinnacle of the large central tower, the Solarium was the highest room in southern Beluaterra. The room was only accessible by a long, wide, winding flight of steps that eventually reached a trap door, now open. Upon emerging, most visitors first notice the Solarium's ceiling and learn how this room got its name. It's ceiling and walls were a latticework of bronze-plated supports and pains of clear glass forming a dome over a room about the size of a dining hall and ringed by a circular balcony that afforded a better view of Rines to those that were brave enough to walk it. A low, comfortable couch sat atop a thick blue carpet set along the western edge sat facing the wooded hills of Athol Margos, poised to welcome the moonrise. Vases and hangings filled with exotic plants were spaced regularly throughout. Arcane symbols had been painted in intricate golden patterns across the stone floor. A circular table of hasty but solid construct had been arranged in the center. Outside, the night was alight with stars and the rising crescent moon, if not for the lanterns that had been lit for the summit, visitors to the Solarium might get the impression that they were walking among those celestial bodies. Whereas in the daytime, curtains of sheer white linen hung from the supports like banners, billowing with the slightest breeze, protecting occupants from the blazing sunlight. It was a bright day outside and sunlight sliced through the spaces left between the linen shades, leaving shifting pools of a radiance across the stonework floor. It was in one of these pools of gold that Eva laid eyes upon the Oracle for the first time. Rania Eastersand JeVondair sat cross-legged on one of the two thick, comfortable cushions near the Solarium's center with a thick tome in her hands. The Oracle of Obeah was a striking figure. Tall for a woman, even seated, and slender of frame but strong of build. At age 60, she wouldn't be fighting anymore duels, and her once-chocolate hair was now liberally threaded with bands of silver, but to look at her was to gain the impression that she certainly still could if the need arose. Rania wore the stately, comfortable white robes of her vocation. Across her face she wore a symbolic, ceremonial veil of religious office denoting her allegiance to the Veiled Goddess. And, Eva noticed, marking this meeting as official Heraldic business. In short, she looked like the woman she was rumored to be: A priestess, a queen, and an eminently capable sorceress. Rania looked up with an unsurprised expression and smiled, gesturing to the cushion seated opposite her in open invitation. "Welcome, Little Sister," she said, eyes glinting in the sunlight. "We have such sights to show you..." | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Agamemnon Polemistis | |
| Agamemnon walked into the sword fighting ring for his first match. Lord Gigax Pilesar, a friend.
"Gigax my friend. Fitting we would face each other first. Let her guide our hand." The fight was true. Gigax attacked vigorously, but in the end Agamemnon stood tall. "Good fight my friend." After getting a drink to ready for the next round, Agamemnon heard his name. He walked proudly to the ring and immediately his heart sank. "Duke Vahanian", I exclaimed to myself. "I just saw him take down Marshal Antonia and she once ripped a man's head clean off. He is one of the greatest swords in our realm if not all of the land. And he is next..." Agamemnon moved into position and the fight began. Parry, strike, parry, strike. Vahanian bellowed as he came in to attack again. Once again he missed. Growing confident Agamemnon went on the attack. Using his quickness to his advantage, Agamemnon was able to thwart any attack and strike convincingly. The final strike was thrown. The crowd was momentarily silent as Agamemnon stood over Duke Vahanian. "Lord Agamemnon!", shouted the crowd. Agamemnon lowered his hand and helped Duke Vahanian to his feet. "It was an honor Duke Vahanian." Agamemnon strolled out of the ring. He stopped when he was alone and fell to his knees. "Obia I thank you for this gift you have given me. I thank you for giving me the opportunity to show the others. I am young but I am strong." Agamemnon heard his name once again. Upon entering the ring he eyed Countess Mariana, a very formidable opponent. The match begins. The fight takes time as the two test each other out. One false move the it is over. A beautiful series of strikes and parries before the Countess sees her opening. Agamemnon reaches too far. Over. The Countess helps Agamemnon to his feet. "I'll be honest, I have no idea what happened." Countess Mariana just smiles and takes her bow. Agamemnon retreats to his tent with his head held high, proud of what he had accomplished. | |
| Agamemnon Polemistis | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian was matched against Antonia in the first round. He swore internally, she was a steady hand with her weaponry and a good friend. He'd watched her fight many times.
She launched her attack at him with her usual ferocity, and Vahanian danced back parrying and countering. These two friends were signing the song of battle, and dancing the dance of swords. It was a song and dance that Vahanian knew well and loved more. Antonia was strong, and she hammered away at his own defenses with her might. He misjudged one of her strikes and her training blade struck his shoulder with her nearly her full strength. He heard more than felt his shoulder pop. He winced in pain and it took all his willpower to keep a hand on his blade. A few moments later he saw his opportunity, a hole in Antionia's defense. He struck and scored. The Arbiter called the match in his favor and he grinned at his friend. "Well fought, my lady." Vahanian said as he bowed to her, hiding his pain and wounded shoulder. He would fight through it, if he won it would only add to his legend. If he lost, well defeat was the best tutor. Vahanian's gaze swept through the assembled crowd and he caught glimpse of Stheno and Rania sitting in their personal, private, viewing box. He stepped into the ring nursing his shoulder a bit, and faced off against Agamemnon. He nodded to the young margrave and the match stared. The young lord was fast, and skilled. Vahanian had misjudged the man during the nights leading up to the tournament. Agamemnon darted in and out of Vahanian's reach. His shoulder screamed in protest to his movement. He stepped in, aggressively, frustrated with pain, and as soon as he lunged he knew he'd lost. Agamemnon parried and countered, the perfect move. Blade met shoulder once more, Vahanian's hand disobeyed his commands and dropped the blade, he himself dropped to a knee and the Arbiter called the match. Agamemnon stood over Vahanian and offered him a hand. Vahanian was irate. He breathed, took the hand that had been offered and said "Obeah favored you this day, well fought." He inclined his head and took his leave. Vahanian stepped off the sands and into the staging area and with a deep breath and great difficulty, threw his shoulder into the corner of a wall. With another audible pop he felt his shoulder return to it's socket. He beat his leg to prevent the scream, and sat on a bench to rest. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Mariana le Craint | |
| The tournament was over. Mariana was bruised and beaten but she was proud. Having made it the semi-final at her first tournament was something to be proud of. Maura had departed as soon as the tournament had started. During her downtime, Mariana watched the different matches. Her final match with Alacrix was exhilarating.
Now she was preparing for her departure. She wished she could stay for the party however she had little time. Her tent had been packed up, her horse readied for the long journey and supplies prepped. She checked her pack a final time. Her ceremonial armor had been cleaned and repaired and sent back to her estate in Bolkenia. Her pack now was lighter. Her crossbow hung on her back and her dagger at her side. She had received word that her unit was well however they were in need of payment. She would not trust that responsibility to a messenger. The evening came soon. People were still enjoying the festivities of the tournament grounds. Taverns were still serving alcohol, nobles remained to socialize. Others were gathering for the party. Mariana did not have that luxury. With the moon high in the sky, she saw this as the perfect time to set off. She took her thick woolen cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. Her breath forming vapor as it left her mouth. She rubbed her hands before mounting her horse. There were a few others setting off along with her that night. An assortment of nobles and knight alike. She set off down the road, out of the gates of Rines, towards Avengmil. Moonlight hung over the road like a guardian angle, lighting up the path ahead. The crisp air and gentle breeze caused Mariana to shiver. She wrapped her arms around her, holding the reigns tightly, rubbing the points of her elbows for warmth. She let out a sigh and looked towards the horizon. The ocean on her right and left, a crossing of winds. | |
| Mariana le Craint | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| It was the day of the Tournament. Alacrix hadn't felt this nervous since his first battle. It was his first tournament and of course he would be fighting in front of the Oracle. He could not look like a fool in front of her.
He was in his tent putting on his well familiar armor. He had see many battles while wearing it. He prayed to Obeah that she may grace him with her favor that day. As he made his way into the arena he was overcome by the roar of the crowd. I could get use to this, he thought. He bowed to the Oracle and turned to face his opponent. To his great surprise it was Maura! He was caught a little off guard by her sudden charge but he couldn't help but smile. He remembered their training duel they had a while ago. He remembered her feriousity and decided that he had to go all out. She fought well matching him blow for blow. Alacrix was thrilled by the match, but then he began to see Maura slowing down. Alacrix knew that if he held back Maura would have been furious at him. So he swung high and at the last second turned the blow into a leg sweep and knocked the sword from her grasp. As soon as they declared him the winner he extended his hand to help her up. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| "Alacrix!" - she said a bit too loud as he was helping her up.
"Long time no see. You really did beat me there. I guess you earned yourself a reward - you will be my company at Oracle's party." - she said not minding the fact that he didn't ask, nor had she gave him a chance to refuse. It was exhilarating, fighting after all this time. She couldn't help but smile, looking down at the inconspicuous knight, he was lean and shorter than average, she sure enjoyed surprises. "Don't let me hold you any longer. You've got more opponents to fight." - she said punching his chest armour playfully. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
| Tournament after party Antonia was on the balcony of her apartments, overlooking the square below. Behind her, her people were hurriedly hiding the artwork and the ‘good’ furniture, and locking it in her storeroom. The servants had learnt from previous parties, and weren’t going to make the same mistake twice. She downed the contents of the tankard she was holding and moved inside to wait for the others to arrive | |
| Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix started to stammer something. He was taken to off guard by what Maura had said.
"Y-Yes!" He managed to stammer out before Maura turned to go. "I would love to go to the party with you!" There was a part of Alacrix's mind that knew he sounded like an idiot but he couldn't think of what else to say or do. "Um... I will...Well I guess I should go and get ready for my other matches." With a shaky bow Alacrix ran off to either pass out or throw up from the idiotic blabbing that his mouth enjoyed producing when he was around Maura. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Report from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Tournament Report:
Welcome to the tournament in Rines. 19 nobles from 4 realms paid their 30 gold entrance fee and visit the tournament grounds today to claim the winner's honours and 800 (gold) for swordfighting (400 for second place swordfighting) and 800 (gold) for jousting (400 for second place jousting). This is a tournament of both, jousting and swordfight. Let's begin with the swords: Round 1, 19 participants: Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Maura from Obia'Syela Monkey from Shattered Vales -beats- Calista from Obia'Syela Agamemnon from Obia'Syela -beats- Gigax from Obia'Syela Marcus from Obia'Syela -beats- Boltgan from Obia'Syela Vahanian from Obia'Syela -beats- Antonia from Obia'Syela Mariana from Obia'Syela -beats- Ruairí from Obia'Syela Madeleine from Thalmarkin -beats- Maedhros from Obia'Syela Felmoure from Obia'Syela -beats- Jorvik from Obia'Syela Achelous from Obia'Syela -beats- Rhaelar from Obia'Syela Alyn - wildcard Round 2, 10 participants: Mariana from Obia'Syela -beats- Monkey from Shattered Vales Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Madeleine from Thalmarkin Felmoure from Obia'Syela -beats- Achelous from Obia'Syela Agamemnon from Obia'Syela -beats- Vahanian from Obia'Syela Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Marcus from Obia'Syela Round 3, 5 participants: Mariana from Obia'Syela -beats- Agamemnon from Obia'Syela Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Alyn from Nothoi Felmoure - wildcard Semifinal round: Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Mariana from Obia'Syela Felmoure - wildcard Final Round: Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Felmoure from Obia'Syela Winner: Alacrix
Round 1, 19 participants: Vahanian from Obia'Syela -beats- Boltgan from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Maedhros from Obia'Syela -beats- Antonia from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Calista from Obia'Syela -beats- Mariana from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Marcus from Obia'Syela -beats- Felmoure from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Maura from Obia'Syela -beats- Madeleine from Thalmarkin 3 to 0 Jorvik from Obia'Syela -beats- Achelous from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Rhaelar from Obia'Syela -beats- Agamemnon from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Gigax from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Ruairí from Obia'Syela -beats- Monkey from Shattered Vales 3 to 0 Alacrix - wildcard Round 2, 10 participants: Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Calista from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Rhaelar from Obia'Syela -beats- Ruairí from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Jorvik from Obia'Syela -beats- Maura from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Vahanian from Obia'Syela -beats- Marcus from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Maedhros from Obia'Syela 2 to 1 Round 3, 5 participants: Alacrix from Obia'Syela -beats- Rhaelar from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Jorvik from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Vahanian - wildcard Semifinal round: Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Vahanian from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Alacrix - wildcard Final Round: Alyn from Nothoi -beats- Alacrix from Obia'Syela 3 to 0 Winner: Alyn That was the tournament in Rines. Congratulations to the winners and to all participants. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
Oracle's Party
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus saw a man in a green suit rush with a servant towards him, it took him a minute but he quickly reconisged the voice of Alacrix Galar.
“Vice Marshal Galar, Welcome.” He held out his hand “It is a pleasure to see you again, I hope you enjoy your evening here in Rines whilst we celebrate the 60th Birthday of our beloved Oracle.” He nodded to a servant to bring over some wine, “How have you been?” | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| It had been a while, but Jheda felt wonderful. After talking to Priestess Eva, he realised he had been wrong, and rejoined the Heralds. He knew the Veiled Goddess never doubted his faith, but now everyone else would see he was a devoted servant of Obeah. The Oracle had granted him back his old estate, things could not look any better.
He walked the streets of Rines feeling drunk, even though he did not touch one drop. That would soon change though. Every citizen of Rines, from the young teens to the grumpy old men, was talking about the event organised by his friend, Steward Marcus, to honour the Oracle. You would have to be living under a rock to be unaware of what was about to happen. Jheda looked forward to meet Marcus again, and tell him about his good news. He knew the Steward could throw a party like no one else. Jheda remembered the last party as if it was yesterday, and this promised to be even better. He would maybe even meet the Oracle herself once more, and surely hoped he could have a few words with her, to tell her about his gratitude. Maybe even steal a dance. As Jheda approached the tournament grounds, he checked if his gift for the Steward was still secure. Once he was confident it was, he ordered a servant to announce his arrival to the already present nobility. | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix took the wine that was offered to him by the server. "Ah Steward Daubeny, I am doing well. And how have you been? I was honored to have received your invitation to celebrate The Oracle's birthday. I must say that it is a lovely party." | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus smiled “I am doing well Vice Marshal, busy with the party and the tournament, but well none the less and thank you I hope this party is the best Rines has ever seen.”
He then took out a letter and handed it to Alacrix. “The Oracle has agreed to see you after the Tournament present this letter to any Paladin in the Basilica and they will let you pass.” He then put out his hand. “I wish we could talk more but I must greet the other guests, I hope to see you later.” He then noticed a name called “Sir Jheda Orobar of Rines.” He looked around and saw his friend walking towards him “Jheda, my friend.” He walked to meet his friend. “Welcome to the Party!” | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| "Marcus! Finally we meet again! You seem to be doing very well," Jheda spoke, while admiring the Steward's outfit. "Damn it, you look so fashionable tonight, I doubt the single Ladies here will look at anyone but you. Give us poor men a chance, will you!"
Jheda looked around at all the activity taking place at the festivities. There was music, dancers, all kinds of artists to suit everyone's taste, and the night was still young. One could only imagine what would come next. "You've outdone yourself again, I see. It's an honour to be here. Please, allow me to give you this small token of my gratitude for being our host tonight. And of course for having my back in the past. I will never forget." Jheda handed over a perfectly balance dagger, crafted by a master smith. The hilt was engraved with the crest of House Daubeny. "Now, tell me, and idea who will attend the party tonight? And when do you think the Oracle will arrive?" | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| It had been an age since I had last been to a feast, The young knight Ruairí thought to himself as he made his way to the big celebration for the Oracle's birthday. The last time he could recall a feast was the night before he had left for Beluaterra from the East Continent, and that had been a family event. What degree of celebration would come for the very Oracle of Obeah, well that was something he could only imagine. So after spending another morning working on his jousting the dark haired youth washed away the sweat and grime of the day. The unruly curls of his hair marked an aspect of his young charm as they added a degree of definition to the lad's features. For the evening's festivities he donned his best clothing as the occasion certainly called for it and he was not one to put a bad foot forward in making impressions. So with the standard black cloth breeches and fine white shirt to form the base of the outfit; Ruairí would add a waistcoat of azure blue satin embroidered with silver leaves, as well as a midnight blue frock trimmed with silver lace. The final touch added to the waistcoat being a small golden broach of a kestrel in flight, much like what was seen on the heraldic seal of his family.
The last little bit for Ruairí to establish before he left was the collecting of his gifts, one was for the Steward to who the dark haired knight had yet to meet. But for putting on such a festivity a degree of reciprocity was certainly owed as per his own family's traditions. Were he not to reciprocate the generosity afforded him he would lose enech, or face and honor, and for that a Mac Róláin could not abide. So upon hearing of the feast the day prior Ruairí went out to purchase a container inline with black velvet to which he could bring one of the measures of wealth he had brought with him to his new home. The chalice was silver and ornamented with four garnets around the stem; all of which gleamed brilliantly after Ruairí gave it a good polishing. For the oracle the matter of a gift was trickier as what does one get the Oracle of your deity? Unknowing, and unaware of any potential proclivities the Oracle might have had Ruairí opted for a necklace of rose gold with a singular oval cut sapphire set in a rose gold floral halo design. The gift itself set him back a good deal of gold himself, but once again his honor, his enech was on the line beyond the diplomatic potential as well. So paying a hefty sum was the least the knight could do for the one this party was all about. So at last, with attire set and gifts in hand the young knight left his pavilion and made his way to the party. Allowing himself to be announced as it seemed was the fashion before going to meet the host. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix was stunned that the Oracle had granted his request to see her. He gingerly took the letter from Marcus and stared at it. He remembered Marcus sticking out his hand and Alacrix shook it. Still mystified at the letter he tucked it into his coat. Unsure now that he had his answer from her, he wondered over to the buffet to grab something to eat and drink. He needed to think... or eat. He was still dazed and either would be good. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus chuckled at Jheada comment “Don’t sell yourself short my sirens if I remember from my last party you almost got a “private audience” with that young noble girl.”
He then looked around at the party as more nobles were arriving it began to slowly heat up soon it would be in full swing he turned back to Jheda “Thank you, it’s a honour to host you again, I hope you enjoy tonight’s festivities” He then looked curiously as Jheda reached behind him and pulled a dagger he presented it to Marcus, It was beautiful dagger more like a piece of then a weapon, it gleamed I the light of the setting sun. “It is beautiful” he took it from Jheda’s hands and took out his old dagger he handed it to Jheda, “It might not be as pretty as your present but it has served me well.” He then sheathed his new dagger and responded to Jheda’s question “No idea who is coming but I hope almost everyone shows up after all it is the Oracles party as for her arrival well, it’s hard to say, she will likely show up soon.” “Sir Ruairí Mac Róláin” He heard the announcer call. “Forgive me Jheda but I must see to the other guests I will talk to you later.” With that he hurried to greet the new arrival. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Upon his arrival Ruairí had really set his attention to the party itself, observing the people, the mood, and to a lesser degree the food as training had left him a little hungry to be sure. But all that could wait until introductions were made and the gift he had was given. As a matter of course he was introduced, and seeing as he wasn't too far from the Steward and the other knight it wasn't hard for him to hear Marcus' parting comment to their fellow countryman. The young knight's hazel hued eyes quickly flicked over to the hurried approach of the man he assumed was the Steward from the overheard quip, and applying his charming little grin Ruairí stepped forward and dipped into a bow. "Lord Stewart, it is an honor and a pleasure to finally meet you in person." The dark haired youth offered warmly in greeting, "Already the festivities are proving delightful, and the night is still so very young." Ruairí continued, and as he spoke he withdrew the wooden container with the polished silver chalice of his own collection to offer to Marcus. "A gift, to show my gratitude for the invitation to this most splendid event. I hope it is to your liking M'Lord." Ruairí offered with all sincerity and charm. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus smiles at the new noble,
“I am glad to meet you as well Sir Mac Róláin and thank you I hope you will enjoy tonight’s festivities.” As the Sir presented the chalice, Marcus looked shocked just as he did when Jheda presented his dagger to him “Thank you Sir Mac Róláin you honour me with such a gift, please come in and enjoy the feast.” He offered his hand to the Young Nobleman. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Ruairí couldn't help but feel the smile curl a little wider along the edges as the gift was accepted so graciously by the Lord Steward. Those hazel eyes of the young knight continued to glint in their good humor as he bowed his head in hearing the reply. "Please Lord Steward, the honor is mine for being able to meet you finally." As he spoke Ruairí's head would rise to meet the other man's eyes once more. "I am sure that I, much like the other nobles present shall enjoy all the festivities that you have assembled." He added happily as he took the offered hand to shake. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus's Storm Grey eyes looked into the Hazel eyes of Sir Mac Rolain and he smiled "Then don't let me keep you any longer."
he step aside and motioned to the party. "Enjoy yourself Sir Mac Rolain, I will see you later" with that he left to do laps around the feast and tend to the needs of any Guests. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| Jheda watched his friend move to the newly arrived Noble, a young, elegant looking man he had not seen before. There would surely be time to be introduced later this evening, perhaps during dinner, but for now he let the two men some room.
He shifted his attention to the dagger still in his hands. He was surprised Marcus had given him his own dagger, but after testing the weight on his hand, and swirling it around his fingers, he decided it would make a fine addition to his collection. The only problem would be to find a spot under his clothes, as Jheda already carried several daggers and throwing knives carefully hidden. A habit he picked up during his time with the Farseers, and one that stuck. Activity around the tournament grounds grew, as did the noises, indicating the swordfighting and jousting events would soon begin. Jheda made his way to the box of seats reserved for High Nobility. He was looking forward to learn about the different fighting techniques used by the several nobles participating. He also kept an eye open for attractive women, and hoped they wouldn't be as veiled as their Goddess tonight. After all, he kept one very special dagger hidden under his pants just for them. | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Tournament feast was at hand. The Duke of Amen Tellum had bathed in a private bathhouse, washed and styled his silvery-grey hair in its traditional half-up, half-down style, and trimmed his beard. Vahanian had chosen the handwoven, beautifully crafted robes of obsidian black, trimmed with Obian Blue, and Templar Red and Gold that the Oracle had sent him as a gift. He also strapped on his sword and secured two daggers to his forearms. He was one of the few who was allowed to be armed while in the presence of the Oracle and it was a status he took every opportunity he could to remind everyone of that fact.
Thankfully, Vahanian did ont have to take the Pilgrim’s Path to reach the Basillica’s upper levels, and so he arrived at the Royal apartments beneath the Solarium where the Oracle lived and worked with time to spare. Even while carrying a wrapped parcel and passing through several checkpoints of Paladins - the blue armored sentinels he had hand chosen for her personal security. He greeted a few by name, and politely obliged their requests/challenges to his business. He reached the final checkpoint and was stopped by two more Paladins, one he knew and recognized and the other he didn't. The young one stepped forward and in a voice that was clearly nervous. Asked Vahanian to remove his weapons, Vahanian nearly leveled the boy with a glare before the elder, wiser Paladin coughed and bade the Duke pass unhindered. He waited now in the Royal Apartment’s foyer, looking out the window over the expanse of the city below arms folded behind his back. Though he was dressed in robes, his stance and demeanor screamed military. He turned towards the sound of swishing fabric on stone. "I do hope you're ready for -" He began, but stopped shor, his words momentarily interrupted on their urgent journey from brain to mouth when he saw her. Rania stood only a few feet away, her smile warm in greeting and her hands folded demurely before her. At 60, she was till a handsome woman. Slender, yes, though anything BUT frail. This was usually well hidden beneath the Heraldic veil and holy vestments of office that she favored for the rare occasions when circumstance forced her to emerge or entertain. Today, however, she had selected a fetching white gown with an intricately laced obian-blue shawl about her shoulders. The dress was simple of cut but finely tailored and draped from her waist, shoulders, and arms, flowing about and behind her like clouds of mist as she moved. The sleeveless, strapless ensemble’s collar was cut in a modest V, revealing only the skin of her arms and face not covered by the shawl, but the gossamer material of the pearlescent garment beneath clung to her form wherever they could. At the center of her neck was a new brooch that held a violet gemstone at its core in fine cage of gold. The multifaceted gemstone sparkled as sunlight skipped along the angles of its depths. On her brow rested her sapphire studded-ducal circlet, the same one that she had crowned herself with when Amen Keffa was first brought into being all those years ago, that held in check the silver-streaked chocolate hair that was bound, wound, and coiled over her right shoulder to dangle above her folded hands like a sleeping serpant. His friend had aged like the fine Ravelian wine she favored. There were wrinkles, aye, but muscle yet, and Vahanian had to stifle the familiar jealousy that Rania had been born blessed with the speedy metabolism that kept her slim while other mere mortals, like a certain unnamed, over-protective duke whom he was sure he’d never met, had to actually work at it. To Vahanian, she radiated her tastefulness and class while fully embracing her femininity without falling into the garish displace that so often entangled younger women. Indeed, looking at her now, Vahanian knew who he’d bet on in a catfight and he had to bite down on the chuckle THAT thought inspired. But it was true. That moment of appraisal lasted only the barest moment, then she was crossing the space between them and extending her hand to him. Vahanian took it, and swept into a perfect court bow. Kissing the ring on her finger and said "Holy One, you honor me beyond words." He straightened and the two shared a look and a moment. “Oh, I’m sure you say that to all the Oracles,” she rejoined slyly, and his smile widened. It had taken nearly a decade before she’d revealed her humor. There was a palpable connection between the two, one that extended beyond friendship. And to think it had only cost him his life, his soul, and a growing collection of chess pieces… | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| He gestured to his robes and said "These are perfect, and I wish to return the favor." He picked up the wrapped parcel he'd carried with him and pulled back the silk cover in one motion to reveal a masterwork stave, crafted from the white-oak native to the Athol Peninsula and etched with latticework of heraldic runes inlaid with purest silver that swirled along its entire length. At the peak of the staff was a roughhewn sapphire sizeable enough to fill the palm of a large man’s hand. At its base was a polished, burnished, brass cap that rang like a bell with each step. Vahanian saw Rania's eyes light up and he knew he had chosen correctly. He caught her hand flicker with motion as if she was about to reach out for gift, but he pulled it back ever so slightly and dared to cluck his tongue at her eagerness. He paused a moment, eyes, darting up, but when lightning failed to smite him for his impudence, he grinned and spoke again. "I'm no master carpenter or rune maker, but I am an able hand with steel and blades." He grinned was wolfish now and flicked his wrist, a small click sounded and he turned the staff towards Rania brasscap first, resting the raw sapphire against his chest. He nodded for Rania to grip the stave at its lower end, then slowly stepped back as she did, and the Oracle’s eyes widened as discovered that she was gripping a hilt. A rapier-length of double-edged obian steel, the same metal from which the Farseers and Paladins of Obeah forged their weapons, revealed itself. All three and a half feet of the blade itself were etching and engraved of heraldic runes, cut just deep enough that blood would collect and pool in them, spelling the doom of what or whomsoever was unfortunate enough to have been caught on the business end. "Made from Obian steel, mined from the depths of Grehk's countryside. I worked firsthand with the finest bladesmith in the Sacred Realm had this custom made." The hilt of the blade bore a yellow sapphire that itself had been emblazoned with the JeVondair house sigil of a rampant lion. The wrapping was a combination of silk and Leather - light enough to maintain the balance of the weapon, and sturdy enough to prevent the blade from slipping out of the wielders hand. With the reverence due such a mastercraft, he gently placed it in the Oracle’s waiting hand. Vahanian showed Rania how to return the blade to the stave and also presented her with an ornate belt and sheath that matched the rapier. “Shall We?” Vahanian said as he extended his arm and Rania took it. The entire time she hadn’t said a word, and she hadn’t needed to. They smiled at one another and departed for the gathering, the bell-like tone of the staff striking stone ringing as they went | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Ruairí smiled as he heard the words and gave a brief nod of his head in acknowledgement, "Of course M'Lord." He added as he bowed his head to the older man, and with that leave being granted Ruairí would turn to the party at large and make his way further in. The music was lively as one would expect with the playful notes dancing on the evening air, and for his part the young knight was half tempted to find a dance partner. But the slight grumble in his stomach diverted that course of thought and turned it instead towards the heady scent of some of the snacking foods. There he would settle to sample some of these delights and at least appease the hunger that had built up in the day's training before the festivities. Although he certainly by no means ate to any degree of excess as the main feast was to come, but by tiding himself over he might save himself from a more embarrassing situation should a more audible rumble of hunger have been heard. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Eva Foote | |
| It was something...something I will never forget. Still the event lingers in my thoughts even as the discomfort from the journey up and down the basilica fades. Never would I have thought that such a building would exist. So many stairs, so many guards. I know you haven't a care in the world about these nameless faces. Nor do you care about the stairs. I only mention them for they were many. Like stars hiding behind the cloudy night sky, unseen but never-ending and always present. Exaggeration I know but you should have seen it. A sight to behold it was. But as you know, I didn't go to the basilica to climb stairs and stare at Templars. Eventually I made it to the Solarium. Maybe it was the stairs, maybe my nerves, regardless my heart raced and with each thump another bead of sweat seemed to form. If only I wore a thinner robe I thought. Too late now, for I finally stood in front of Her.
You remember the tales of Her beauty no? Well, she may have aged and the veil she wore may have been a keenly worn mask but I knew what lay beneath. No, it was not my imagination. Many would simply see what they wanted but not me. I saw Her, as she was and not as I wanted Her to be. The signs of aging were there, gentle beginnings of wrinkles and the glimmers of grey in her hair. Despite all of this, the veil of time and cloth, she still retained her beauty. Looks are not all that tend to fade, for many grow weaker in their age. It is hard to say if her strength has diminished. She wasn't exactly out fighting in the tournament that energized the city around us. I like to think she would have been capable of holding her own out there. Alas, strength was not needed for our encounter. This was to be a display of wisdom. When I first saw Her, she was seated on the opposite end of the room on a cushion. In her hand was a tome and on her face a smile. With a gesture she offered me a seat and welcomed me. Her voice was smooth as silk as she said, "Welcome, Little Sister. I have something to show you." I will admit, her voice caught me off guard. For some reason I exposed it to be a bit more raspy. And Little Sister? What did that mean? I expected a formal greeting but this, this wasn't exactly motherly but one that gave an appearance of equality while still expressing a distance. It is possible that this was just a common phrase but I have never heard it before. I would be ready to believe it was just a saying with little meaning but it would require her to be a bit careless instead of deliberate. That can't be the case. She knew what she was doing. From the place of the meeting, atop the basilica, to the arrangement of the room and her place in it. Every detail was planned, I'm sure of it. | |
| Eva Foote | |
| Roleplay from Eva Foote | |
| Ohhh, how could I have been so foolish? I didn't even notice until now...I didn't even exchange a proper greeting...no eminence, no bow, nothing. Did I at least give a slight nod? Oh, how I hope so. If not...even if I did, maybe she took it as an insult. How could I make such a simple mistake. At least I can say this, I didn't hit the table on my way. The worry was there, I could even see it in my mind. Can you imagine the scene? A Lord Herald meeting with the Oracle and at the very beginning the Lord Herald face-plants after tripping over the leg of a table? Go ahead and laugh, it isn't like you would have been the fool that landed on your face. Thank Obeah that didn't happen. I managed to keep an eye on where I walked. With each step towards the vacant cushion that table was in the corner of my eye. That and the floor itself. On each tile seemed to be a different symbol. They were unfamiliar but one was rather intriguing. The shape was similar to a "J" but attached to a "G" and surrounded by a box with a lines running up and down. Almost like it was a rune of protection, a symbol that was trapped behind iron bars. A sketch will have to be made and the tomes scoured. After making my way past the table and reaching the cushion, I sat down as gently as I could. "You wanted to see me?" I asked getting almost straight to the point of the meeting. Looking back on it now, I shouldn't have been so forward. Truthfully speaking I was definitely a bit nervous. Who would be? And my legs...don't even get me started on those stairs again. At the very least I can say that I was able to keep my focus on Her...well, mostly. In the air hung the scent of vegetation and there were plants in the room. I wish I could say more about these plants but they were unknown to me. With all my time in Rines, in the garden of the Foote Manor, I do not recall ever seeing these types before. Where exactly did they come from? Why were they here? Was this another deliberate move? Does she know how I used to spend hours tending that garden? If she does...if this is a deliberate move, then that means the inquisition was watching. And if they were, no, are watching me then are they watching you? | |
| Eva Foote | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| As time went by, the battles taking place before him on the tournament grounds were getting more fierce. The remaining Nobles, having survived several rounds, could smell the final, and the honour and prestige a victory would bring. It was as if they all decided they would not go down easy. Jheda did not expect any less from his countrymen.
The final itself was one of the greatest displays of swordsmanship he ever witnessed. Jheda sat on the edge of his seat, concentrated, not wanting to miss a single blow. He started to sweat as the tension rose to a climax. Eventually, after several superb feint manoeuvers, it was Sir Alacrix who was victorious. Jheda made a mental note to congratulate the man if he would meet him tonight. He also learned that watching an intense fight was good for your appetite, almost as if you had been in battle yourself, so he made his way to the oversized tent where the Nobility would have dinner. As he entered, he noticed many Nobles had already gathered here. Steward Marcus was moving from here to there, having a few words with everyone, making sure they all were comfortable and had everything they needed. Jheda knew eventually his friend would find some time for him as well, and he did not want to bother him until he did, so he made his way to the large table placed at the centre of the tent. He assumed this was where the Highborn would sit down and eat, once the Oracle arrived, so he started looking if a seat was reserved for him. While he did, he signaled a servant to bring him a drink. | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus had finished his first lap of the feast after chatting with nobles and seeing to their needs, he was suprised the Oracle hadn’t shown up yet but he hoped she would soon, he saw Jheda by the High Tbale reserved for Major nobles of the Realm so that they would be unbothered but the merchants and lower nobles.
He walked over and motioned for a servant and whispered to him “In the storage tent there should be a bottle with s sun on it I want you to bring it to me.” The Servant nodded and scurried off he walked over and stood next to Jheda “Are you participating in the Tournament Jheda?” He smiled at his friend. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| Jheda answered the smile. He did feel sorry for his friend though. Organising this event, and making sure everything went smoothly, took all of his time and effort. The young Steward must have lost track of time, the sun was setting and the swordfighting tournament was over.
"No, my friend, the tournament is over. Haven't you heard, Sir Alacrix took the Title? I myself arrived too late here in Rines to enter my name. And even if I did get here in time, I had other business to take care of." Jheda's smile got even bigger, he was filled with pride and joy as he was about to tell Marcus his good news. "About that business, I wanted to tell you, I have been granted back my estate in Rines, and my position among the Farseers! We'll be fighting side by side again, brother. I just need my Insignia back, but I guess the Oracle or Marshal Antonia has it. I'll ask them for it later tonight." Jheda looked at the table before them with great expectation. It was dressed with high quality, silver cutlery, crystal glasses and artistic decorations. " I can't help but look forward to what you have planned for dinner. I'm sure you'll surprise us with all kinds of delicacies. Do tell me, when the Oracle arrives later this evening, do you have a speech prepared in honour of her birthday?" | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus was overjoyed when he heard the good news he laughed and gave Jheda a quick hug before releasing not wanting to cause a scene, he put his hand on Jheda's should and smiled the joy clear on his face.
"This is truly the best news I have heard all month, I ma glad to have you back brother, i hope Antonia has it on her, maybe we can go to her apartments later and see." "Whilst I can't spoil the surprise let me just tell you it is the finest cuisine from all across Beluaterra and beyond" He smiled knowing that the nobles would enjoy his selection. His smile than faltered and he bang rubbing his beardless chin in though, he bag to ponder aloud. "But as for a speech for the Oracle's birthday? I haven't thought of one, would it even be appropriate, I mean I am just her Steward and I don't know her all that well personally, what do you think Jheda?" He looked to his friend for any guidance or wisdom he had to offer. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Jheda Orobar | |
| Jheda answered the hug, glad to see his friend was overjoyed with the news. His brothers had not forgotten him yet, which felt really good.
He looked forward to take Marcus to Marshal Antonia's apartments, an infamous place known for it's legendary parties. It was an excellent proposal, one he would gladly accept. First things first though, the Oracle was about to arrive and it looked like Marcus could use some help. "I believe the Oracle would appreciate it if you spoke a few words in her honour. She did choose you to be her Steward, not anyone else. She entrusted you with the responsability to organise her birthday party. It seems to me you are a bit more important to her than you think." Jheda paused for a minute, thinking about what should and should not be said, then continued. "I must admit, I do not know the Oracle very well either. Quite the mystery she is, right? But we can assume she will not like simple flattery, she isn't some young naive girl. She has seen and done things we can only imagine. Therefore, I would suggest to keep it short, clean and simple. Start with the usual, good health and many more years, something like that. Summarise her past, tell her about how we look forward to a future under her guidance. Maybe finish with a subtly hidden compliment. Think you can work with that? | |
| Jheda Orobar | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus smiled at his friend and now reunited brother-in-arms
"Yes, I think I can work with that." After he said that a servant approached and handed him the requested bottle, he quickly left the Steward and Knight "Come Jheda." He poured two glasses of the light blue liquid the same from his party all those moons ago "Let us drink, to the Oracle and the good times ahead." He raised his glass as he spoke. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| When the Oracle moved, it was never s small affair. Horses, carriages, protection details, routes, counter routes, fallback planning, ceremony, decorum, tradition, and general disruption of the normal goings-on of the city became the rule of the day. There was no shortage of beings, human and otherwise, that would have delighted at the Oracle’s death, and so the former Grand Templar, and indeed all Heraldrim, took every conceivable precaution to protect and preserve her wellbeing.
It came as no surprise to her Paladins and the others that made her safety their personally business that there would be no keeping her movements under wraps. Word would get out, it always did, and the throngs would come. In the capital, these people didn’t just owe her their faith as their spiritual leader or their fealty as their liege lady. No, the people of Rines owed her their lives. To them, she wasn’t just the sum of her titles, she was the legendary hero that arrived on a lightning bolt when the dead outnumbered the living in Rines, and she’d armed them and taught them to fight back the dark, organized food to feed the hungry, invested gold to build them up. And, just as important, her lordship had kept them joyously happy and firmly in order for years, a safety for which they were firmly grateful. They had followed her from across the Sea of Four Cities or flocked to her from the hills and hinterlands, and would follow her to whatever she led. She’d made them the envy of the world, and the she’d fought and tamed Netherworld Daimons to do it. Rania Eastersand JeVondair was the Heroine of Rines, very much was the beating heart of the Moonlight City. Thus, when she moved, it seemed as if the whole city moved with her. So rarely did she appear, in fact, that it had become considered good luck to even glimpse the Oracle of Obeah. The people turned out in throngs to wave and pray and shout their adulation. Even for a ‘short’, simple journey to the party Sir Marcus had arranged was slowed to a parade-speed as the Oracle’s carriage and escort made its way. It was one of the many reasons the Oracle often chose to remain in the Basilica, rather than disrupt the normal activities and productivities of her fief. Which of course only had the effect of making her rarer trips that much more of an affair when she did. Within the Oracle’s carriage, Rania and Vahanian watched the crowds and building facades roll slowly by. Waving at the joyous crowds every now and again as they spoke between themselves. All the while, she gripped the stave he had given her. It really was marvelous, and she’d been trying out names for most of the short trip. At the moment, she’d settled to calling it her Edict. When asked why, she insisted that items of gravity deserve names that match. Privately, Vahanian more than suspected it was because she thought the name sounded cool…a youthful whim that clashed amusingly with the wizened persona she liked to suggest. Ever observant, Rania must have caught on to his thought process because when he looked at her again, merriment in his eyes, she simply turned her nose to the air and huffed haughtily. As they grew nearer to the chosen location Rania could sense Vahanian’ s dread growing. She knew he hated these social functions, he would very nearly be as much of a recluse as she, save for the little fact that he could not send orders from his ivory tower, and it tickled her to see him squirm and she told him so. He fired back by sticking his tongue out at her and she yielded with a laugh. When they finally did arrive at the party Sir Marcus had organized in her honor, it was to great fanfare. A few moments later they escorted to the large pavilion that had been setup on near the tournament grounds. A guard pulled back the flap and two Templar and Two Paladins proceeded Vahanian and Rania into the pavilion. Vahanian saw Marcus, alerted to their presence by the commotion, materialize from the crowd of people that had assemble and make his way to them to pay his respects and greet the Oracle. Vahanian smiled at the young steward and inclined his head in approval and appreciation of the feast he'd put on before raising his voice to the crowd. “Your attention please!” He called in a resonant basso, resplendent in his fine robes, is presence soaking up the attention of the room as he announced “HER HOLINESS!” And then the Oracle of Obeah entered. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Vahanian let himself revel in the peace of the moment. He was walking arm in arm with his oldest friend to a party in her honor. He escorted Rania through the growing throng of people, both giving polite nods and warm smiles to the gathered nobility, but neither he nor Rania stopped as they ventured towards her seat of honor at the high table. A servant stepped forward and then immediately back as Vahanian shot a glance at him. This honor was his, and he intended to milk this for all it was worth. He guided Rania to her chair and then pulled her chair out for her, bowing low, in once more a perfect court bow as she took her seat. He then slid into the seat directly to her right. A servant arrived and poured wine for the Oracle, that fancy Ravalian stuff she favored, and then turned to Vahanian. He merely placed his hand over the top of his goblet and shook his head politely. From within the folds of his robes, he pulled his beloved pipe and tobacco pouch. Shoving some leaf into the end of his pipe he struck a match against the arm of his chair and lit his pipe, the smoke swirled around him like a cloud of mystery as his keen hazel eyes scanned the assembled crowd.
Now seated, Rania raised her hand in benediction and the gathered nobles fell silent. “For nearly 20 years, We have struggled” she began, her voice a rich alto as it spread to fill the silence. ”For nearly 20 we bled and suffered alone in this desolate, forsaken promised land. Undead rose nightly from the vast catacombs beneath Our feet and monsters of every sort tried Our walls to steal Our people off to their lairs at night. Aye, We were alone, and Aye, we struggled, but We were never lost. We worked and fought and built, we channeled the light of our faith into the brilliant beacon it now is. And now you all must know by now that here, now, when we say We,” she emphasized the capital, “We refer to all of Us, We spilled blood, We fought and died and struggled, but We did it together. One strong, growing family of faith. Unified in a way that the other faiths, nay, the other realms could hardly hope to match.” She paused then, looking through the eyes of the gathered nobles; into the souls she had sworn her won to guide and protect, then rose solemnly and all those gathered rose with their spiritual leader, gathering their goblets in toast as she fell into the old words: “Obeah guide us. Obeah teach us. Obeah protect us. Obeah deliver us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.” As the final words were uttered by ever throat, the Oracle smiled, tapping the tip of her Edict to produce the bronze ring, almost like a temple chime. “With that said,” she continued, “This is a party, is it not? May the celebrations commence!” | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus was dumbfounded when Duke Vahanian and the Oracle entered the party, he barely had time to kneel and spew out the words of his greeting “Welcome Oracle I am greatly you could make it to this party I hope you enjoy tonight!”
By the time he had finished the Oracle had already moved past him. He felt like a fool, Once she was seated and had spoke her most holy words, he went from feeling the fool to feeling like pride, he was her Steward, her most holiness trusted him to run this smoothly and by Obeah he would. “You heard the Oracle, drink, be merry, to do otherwise is to disobey her direct orders.” And with that he signaled the band to begin playing, which in turn was the cue for the servants to bring out the meals on Silver trays they quickly placed a bit of everything on the plates of everyone present except the Duke and Oracle. Marcus walked up to the High Table and bowed to his Liege, He then sat next to the Oracle on her left he then sat back and nodded to a servant, who signaled another which in turn tapped a Waiter returning to the Kitchen and whispered “Oracle.” The waiter nodded and signaled a few more waiter who were dressed in the finer clothes they rushed into the Pavilion bearing Gold trays and set them on the the table, lifted the lids and revealed many dishes from a what appeared to be a basic steak to a rainbow scaled fish, they then brought forward 10 Chalices each filled with a different drink, one of the most striking one was the Chalice with a light blue liquid that almost seemed to glow, they set the chalices before the Oracle and another set in front of the Duke though for Marcus they only brought one with the light blue liquid. “Don’t worry my good Duke I have personally sampled each meal and drink, not from the same cup as the Oracle or you of course but I can confirm that all of this.” He pointed at the food and drink “Is not poison.” He hoped this would ease the Oracle and Duke for her most holiness’s safety was his priority. He then stood and tapped his chalice with a spoon, once he caught the attention of everyone he put the spoon back. “Nothing I can say can match what the Oracle already said but as it is expected that I speak I will do my best, The Oracle, a name we have all come to belove, She has lead us for 20 years through light and dark, war and peace, life and death and I pray that she will lead us for 20 more.” He then looked at the Oracle. “And I know she will.” He raised his glass and looked out to all the assembled nobles. “Let us drink to the Oracle, long may she live.” The toast was echoed “Long may she live.” He sat back down and clapped twice, suddenly a mighty roar wa released as behind the Oracle a scroll had been used that summoned a lion of fire, as the lion was the symbol of the JeVoindar symbol he hoped the compliment was taken that way, The lion flew threw the sky around the entire pavilion harmlessly passing threw the air before let out one more roar and disappearing behind the Oracle. Marcus whispered to the Oracle. “Enjoy tonight for this is all for you.” | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| "That was a lovely toast Marcus, thank you."
Rania leaned toward Marcus' crooking her finger for him to do the same. Her body language looked as though she might whisper some secret or private joke perhaps, but she modulated her voice to carry subtly so that anyone within casual earshot would here. "We were very right to give you the responsibility of managing the affairs of Rines. this-" she gestured with her Edict to encompass not just the Pavilion but the whole of the celebration throughout the city." We do not believe that anyone else in the Sacred Court would have done as well. Thank you." She repeated. "I am very glad that I picked you." She said then, and no one within earshot missed the fact that she'd dropped the royal "We" that was her right. If there had been any doubt in anyone's mind that the Steward of Rines was not among the Oracle's favored, they died quietly in the face of this new confirmation. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Dubeny | |
| Marcus laughed and gave the Oracle a salute before standing p bowing once to the Oracle and once to the Duke that sat beside her as he left he silently whispered to a waiter next to him.
"See that the Oracles requests are filled, this is her party and anything she asks for you go get, understood." The Servant nodded and with that Marcus walked around again and begun to speak to the guests. | |
| Marcus Dubeny | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian, despite himself, was having a pleasant evening at the party. He'd smiled, and chuckled with friends, old and new. Spoke to nobles he hadn't seen in some time, and threw jests back and forth about the approaching tournament.
The music was played beautifully, the food was wonderful, and the drink was ample, though Vahanian avoided the latter. He summoned a servant and whispered something in his ear, before the man disappeared and reappeared next to the musicians. The first note was struck a few moments later and if by divine intervention, the dance floor started to clear. Vahanian stood, tamped out his pipe, and leaned towards Rania, who was just finishing her conversation with her steward, and said "Oracle, I may be slow with words but I am quick on my feet, would you do me the honor?" He extended his hand and couldn't help but smile as she looked up at him and he saw a grin creep onto her face as her eyes flicked between his hand and his eyes. She smiled at him and said "I wouldn't want to get in the way of someone who would be a far better dancing partner. Her eyes flicked behind Vahanian and he followed her gaze. Cutting through the throng of people in an astonishingly beautiful black dress was a woman Vahanian didn't recognize at first. It took him a moment to realize that Stheno was walking towards them,. it was her eyes, always her eyes, that caught him. Tonight, the gold of her irises glow against the black like lanterns in smoke. She'd suffered her entirely life because that marked her as different. looking at her now, though, knowing everything she'd had to overcome despite her high birth, Vahanian's chest swelled with pride, admiration, and love for the girl. It took Vahanian a moment to recover, he was so used to seeing Stheno in riding leathers and training armor, so seeing her in a dress at a court function was odd. She curtsied perfectly before the Oracle. For one who'd always done her level best to get away from ANYTHING resembling formality, she's clearly been practicing, Vahanian observed silently as Rania opened her arms in welcome. Stehno approached, leaning into the Oracle’s embrace before pulling back. "Mother!" Stheno exclaimed, excitement rolling off her in waves as she produced a series of four official-looking documents. “These-“she began with a dramatic air, waving the parchment with emphasis “-are my recommendations! I’m going to be a knight and fight for Obeah just like you and uncle did!” “That’s wonderful news, my darling!” Rania’s smile was just as excited as her daughters. “Mother…” Stheno hesitated. “I…I know you never really approved of my, eh...” “Running away to a different kingdom to live on your own?” Vahanian quipped helpfully. “But what about me hmm? To think, ignored by the mother so often, and now the daughter too? The indignity of it all! Why, I’ve half a mind to-“ Was nascent diatribe was efficiently cut off but the sudden pressure of slender arms wrapping tightly about his chest and robes and squeezed. “We always get to you eventually, Uncle Vahanian, you know that!” Stheno said with a laugh. He returned the gesture with a squeeze and a warm chuckle of his own. “That you do, child, that you do. Now let me see those referrals before your mother attempts to recruit you for Amen…errr…what is Jessica calling it again?” A sidelong glance at the Oracle, but she turned up her nose at him. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| “What do you mean ‘attempt’?” Rania retorted with a mock-haughtiness that all-too-closely resembled the true anger he’d witnessed occasionally over the past 20 years. But Vahanian merely smiled, after that long, he could always tell the difference.”
“Could he be referring to your legendarily single-minded determination, Mother?” “Is that Sthenoan for ‘stubborn and overbearing?” The Oracle asked in response, eyes glinting with mirth. “How did I raise such a vile, disrespectful daughter?” “You had help, damn it” Vahanian inserted, a caricature of his usual gruffness. “Its over, mother,” Stheno said as she through an arm over Vahanian’s shoulder as his grin deepened. “Unc’s always been on my side.” Rania through up her hands in defeat. “Daimons, Kings, and heretics I can handle. But you too? And would it kill you, spawn, to call me “Mom” once and a while?” “Would it kill you to dance once in a while, Your Grace” came the much too sweet reply. “Hmph…fair.” Rania waved her hand in surrender. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Like any father, Vahanan had been noting the way the other nobles watched Stheno. At first it was because he was feeling protective. Stheno is a very attractive young woman, the yes of many a noble knight and lord would be on her anyways..as would the hidden whispers about her scary-looking eyes. Even being embraced by the Oracle was not enough for those who did not know Stheno as he did to be at ease around her. Worse, it bothered her. he could tell, he'd practically raised this child, trained her, instructed her where and when her own mother could not. he could see the drop in the line of her shoulders, the stiffness in her neck and spine that had nothing to do with the expensive black dress she wore now.
It wasn't fear, not like it had been when she was young, but it was anxiety, and it offended Vahanian deeply that anyone could see this girl- woman- he corrected himself mentally, as anything other than a blessing literally from the Oracle herself. He'd taught her how to be strong on the field and on the hunt, but this was a new battlefield altogether and one that he had not prepared her for. What could he do to fix this, he asked himself? His body, however, was ahead of him.Vahanian removed his sword belt from his waist and placed it on his chair looking at Rania as he did so. The Oracle, however, already had her hand out. Sharp as ever, she must have been reading the same signs he had been. He nodded to Rania, perhaps more gravely than he meant to, but she returned the gesture. Volumes passed between the two, then, and he knew she understood. She had, after all, been a mother before she'd become the Oracle. The two friends smiled at one another. A secret passing between them, and a mutual love for the giddy, lively, black-eyed little girl, no, young woman, that was dragging Vahanian to the middle of the dance. Rania rested his sword on her knees and shoo'd him off. He turned back to Stheno, extended his hand and said "Would you grant me the honor?" She giggled at him, her nervousness audible only to him, and took his hand excitedly. Vahanian looked back at Rania and realized that this was a far better gift for her than 'Edict' could ever be. Stheno led them through the throng of people, there were more than a few whispers and murmurs that died in the throats of nobles before they could begin to take form as the gathered assembly saw Vahanian on Stheno's arm. Despite what they might think, there were few who would dare speak out against the child, especially when she was accompanied by Vahanian. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| It was with great anxiety that Ruairí made the ascent to the Basilica following the tournament at Rines. After all the whole point of his joining the tournament was more his intention to break into this world of the upper nobility than to do well as a participant. The knight of Ardmore may have been young but he knew his abilities well enough to know he wasn't going to be anywhere close to those great warriors who did well in the games. The mere fact that he got passed the first round in the joust was surprising, and a testament more to the tenacity of his training than any natural skill. No it was in these moments, the realm of politics, that he shown best and he fully intended to capitalize on it.
So with a final breath to settle the mounting anxiousness he felt within, and with gift in hand, Ruairí would push open the doors to make his entrance. The dark haired knight had certainly dressed for the occasion as he came in black breeches, and a fine white shirt. The shirt was joined by a burgundy colored waistcoat trimmed in a gold knotwork design of his homeland. In addition to go over both the shirt and waistcoat was a black frock to complete the ensemble and paired well with the young Knight's Raven colored hair. A final little piece was the golden Kestrel broach that he wore pinned to his chest, the gold Kestrel in flight being the symbol of the Mac Róláin family. Waiting in the queue was a tedious thing, but expected as the Herald was to announce those who had arrived to celebrate the Oracle's birthday, and when finally it was his turn Ruairí would cast his hazel hues gaze to the party at large while the Herald's voice rang out. "Sir Ruairí Mac Róláin, Knight of Ardmore." A playful half smile took to his lips as his cue was given to proceed inward. It was in that moment that a part of him was glad that he had not been of supreme note in the tournament; lest he had been given the booming introduction that the champion had had. Instead he could bide some time and purse the room before seeking out those to whom he might make his own association. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Stehno all but dragged the aged duke to the area of the pavilion that Sir Marcus had ordered cleared for reveling. If she didn’t know better, she would be curious what an old man in the trappings of a priest could do, former Grand Templar or no. They cut their way to the floor and she whirled on him, left hand up and right hand out, ready for a partner. Vahanian bowed to her, a subtle reminder of the proper forms. She blushed prettily at the silent reminder and curtsied to him, and then the music started and they were Stheno and Vahanian raised their arms, intertwining them just above the elbow, as they moved in a circle with the other noble guests, stepping in time with the music.
The tempo picked up as the overture flowed into the first melodies of the music. Up to that point, Stehno’s touch had been feather-light, and she stumbled more than once. But each time Vahanain caught her smoothly. Indeed, the music awakened a strength in the ancient duke that she never suspected. They stepped back, extending their arms, and pulling away, just as Vahanian caught her wrist, leaned her towards the floor before whipping her around in a swirl of laughter and expensive fabric. She spun into his arm and shoulder, before Vahnaian stepped out, and spun her the opposite way. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of the Champion Alacrix Galar as he and a companion behind him were announced before the dance drew her back into the fray. At some point, someone had started clapping in time with the music, and before long the entire pavilion was swept up in the song, stomping feet and clanking tankards. Stheno’s smile was infectious as she danced. If she were being honest with herself, she’d never really seen herself like this: Happy. When she was a girl, she’d always been kept hidden for fear of assassins or even daimons with a grudge against her mother. Every move was watched, every entrance guarded, she thought she’d be smothered for the rest of her life. It’s why she ran away in the first place...to find her own freedom. She never dreamed that her journey to find it would end practically where it began. And it was true, she WAS happy. She’d visited villages FULL of religious folk who wanted nothing more than to see her burn, just for her appearance. Vahanian, her teacher and the closest thing she had to a father, whose mere presence inspired trust. Now here she was in the dancing to the beating rhythm at the heart of the largest new religion in the world, but she felt safe. Now that she’d grown to womanhood and understood that Rania had just been doing her best to protect her, and would continue protecting her, made her feel foolish for ever having left. Now here she was wearing the most expensive dress she’d ever worn, mingling with the most influential nobility on the continent, and she felt welcome. Her exuberance soared in that moment, and she felt tears threaten her gold-black eyes. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| The music was clearly audible from outside the party grounds, and a hundred smells, many of them pleasant and a few not so much, assaulted Kethan's nose as he slowly approached the source of the noise and cheers. He had been at the verge of not assisting, but he had been invited after all, and manners was one of the few things that he still had left.
It hadn't been easy, but he thought he was ready. A thick layer of makeup covered the least pleasant marks that a life devoted to arcane experimentation had cursed him with, fine dark green robes that he had borrowed from the Vales hid his sicklish and shaking body, an elegant yet robust dark wood cane with silver ornaments supported his weight when his muscles seemed about to fail. The main problem, though, was navigating the area with his extremely limited eyesight, destroyed by decades of reading in dark rooms and the progress of his affliction. He would have his eyes closed, that for sure, they were most certainly not a pleasant sight to behold nowadays, and it's not like they were of much use in their current condition. - "Maulde, I don't know if I can do this. There's so, so many noblemen and servants inside. I'll trip and fall on someone before even making it across the entrance." The butler, properly but discreetely dressed in grey garb, grinned ever so lightly. - "M'lord, as usual, I'll be your eyes. I may not be able to recognize all the faces and heraldry we'll see inside, but you know I will tell you of everything I can describe." The couple entered, the announcement of the herald lost to most attendants to the party due to the recent arrival of Kethan and the music and laughter of the celebrations. They stood close to the door for a few minutes, a mature man and a slightly younger servant, Maulde narrating to his master everything happening around them. At some point, he leaned towards Kethan and whispered. - "M'lord, I think she might have noticed your arrival. Do you wish me to...?" - "It's now or never, Maulde." - Kethan let out a deep sigh. - "Guide me." Somehow making it accross the couples dancing and the noblemen gossiping without drawing much attention, a stern look of the guards warned Kethan and Maulde not to continue approaching the Oracle. - "M'lord, I don't think those guards look pleased of our approach." - "Oh, keep going. I have the feeling they will be told to back down." - said Kethan while standing as straight and proudly as possible, holding his cane tightly while Rania's guards approached him, obviously unfamiliar and cautious with the recent arrival to the realm. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Ruairí had barely a moment's time to walk the floor of the Basilica when the music started up and the dancing first began. The little break in between would see the young knight from Ardmore procuring for himself a glass of wine to enjoy in one hand, as the other kept the wooden case that housed his gift to the Oracle. With the object of his desire so procured Ruairí decided to make his way towards the pavilion that a growing crowd of attendees were gathering around. As he moved towards the crowd his left hand holding the gift would idly adjust the slender box within until one of the smaller bases of the rectangle shaped box rested against his palm. The flat of that container pressed in against his forearm, hiding the parcel completely from certain angles of view. All the while Ruairí would sip from his glass and watch the dance between the Duke of Amen Telum and the mysteriously eyed woman to whom he had yet to meet. To the knight, such a sight as those eyes might have given him cause to pause and yet it seemed despite the occasional whisper the crowd was more in tune with the music and the dance than anything else. So he filed the thought away, after all it was no stranger to him than the dance seeing as Ruairí had come from the East Continent and the traditions were different. Likewise, the dark haired youth would think, they might find the traditions of his own family a little odd in practice. So how was he to really judge such a thing as dancing, or eyes, or any such matter.
"Remember Ruairí, you must integrate fully when you arrive. Hold none of yourself back from your adopted home as I won't be able to protect you there." The words of his older brother filled his mind as his thoughts turned towards the end of his musings. Those hazel hued eyes lost a hint of their sharpness which had up to that point been observing the room more than the dance. Instead there was a softness that filled the gap as he thought of his brother and the oh so distant home of his childhood that he had left behind. "I will..." The young knight breathed out under the roaring mixture of claps and stops that kept time with the playing music. A breath later and the softness was gone, mirth instead filled his eyes and after taking a couple more seconds to catch the beat Ruairí was soon stomping along. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus panicked,
He yanked a servant over and furiously whispered. "WHY HAS THE DANCING BEGUN." The servant in question paled. "Theu Duke, Sir, he went down to the dance floor and everyone else followed." Marcus's angre dissipated, he patted the shoulder of the young servant, Marcus then shivered and felt cold, strange it was quite warm in the pavilion, he shrugged it off "Nevermind just make sure that performers are ready for when the cake is brought out." The Servant nodded and went off to see the Steward's will done, he scanned the crowd hoping to spot a familiar face amongst the crowd, he saw none. Suddenly he noticed the duke dancing with a young woman, He didn't recognise her, but there was clearly some sort of bond between her and Blint. He shrugged and walked back to the high table, he sat back next to the Oracle and once again felt cold, a chilling feeling in his spine and yet he did his best to put it out of his mind, he looked to the Oracle and asked "Oracle, who is the girl that Duke Blint is dancing with, I don't recognise her, is she a new noble?" | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian guided Stheno through the dance, she stumbled a bit, but he was there, as always, to guide her back to center. He felt the change in her emotions, she was happy. Here, now, in the moment. She was happy. That felt like a wave of relief. He let the music guide his movements, he found his place, the deep baritone of the music resonated within Vahanian, similar to his gruff speaking voice. Stheno also seemed to find her place within the music, the fierce, fiery alto notes that so mirrored her personality. They uncoiled their entwined arms, Vahanian spinning Stheno round and round and round, faster and faster, as the music reached a crescendo. She spun into his arm and shoulder, before Vahnaian stepped out, and spun her the opposite way. she let her momentum take her as Vahanian moved towards her, letting go of her arm, she began to dip backwards, Vahanian reached out and grabbed Stheno mid spin, wrapping his leftarm around the small of her back gripping her waist. With a grin at Stheno and a flourish he whipped his left arm from around her waist and let go, she spun nearly horizontal, following the momentum of his powerful arm. She was falling to the floor and laughing, he timed it perfectly. He shot his right arm out and caught her waist behind her back and bent his knee and she was dipped over his planted foot, head as far back as it would go, hands displayed above her head. She was fully supported by Vahanian's right arm and knee, no part of her touched the ground just as the music struck it's final note. The two were breathing heavily from the dance. Vahanian pulled her upright, stepped back and bowed to her once more. The assembled crowd who'd been observant of entire dance erupted in cheers and applause. Vahanian smiled, gestured to Stheno giving her the attention and praise as he also applauded her, but he was looking to Rania, she smiled at him, applauding with more force than one would expect from the Oracle, but still managing to maintain her dainty aura. She turned her head to the side and Vahanian could have sworn he caught glimpse of a tear streaking down her cheek before she quickly brushed it away. He turned his attention back to Stheno who was revealing in the applause and attention. She curtsied to the assembled people before abandoning all courtly manners and launching herself into Vahanian's arms and hugging him with all her might. He too abandoned the frivolities and "proper" decorum and hugged her back. The dance was for the people, this was for the two of them. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| “A new noble?” Rania replied as she clapped, seeming to muse over the question. Her smile widened, eyes flashing as she watched the dance. “Why yes, something like that-”
The dance came to its roaring conclusion. Rania rose smoothly to join those who were already up and applauding. She was aware of those others seeking to speak with her, and those whom she would like to speak with, but she would before the night was through so they both could wait for a moment or too for her to return to her seat. Edict in hand, its huge sapphire gem flashing, she approached the pair. She wore no veil today, and most of the nobles here had never seen her, much less met her. Nevertheless, nobles parting before her like waves before a ship. The Edict, she concluded, was something of a giveaway. Vahanian grinned broadly as drew close and Rania was astonished and how youthful he seemed now, despite being more than twenty years her senior. She buried the sardonic grin that thought deserved. It would do know could to encourage him lest he contrive some way to get her to dance as well. Instead, she looked at Stheno and smiled as she rested her hand on the young woman’s shoulder. Then, in the well-trained orator’s voice that was soft as silk and powerful as a rushing river, she started to speak. “We have some announcements to make…” | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian stood next to his oldest friend and his favorite charge as Rania spoke to the assembled. A servant quietly brought him his sword belt, which he quickly strapped back around his waist. Rania couldn't help but notice and smile at his subtle relaxation as soon as he was armed once more.
Vahanian took stock of the assembled nobles, he saw Sir Kethan, a man whom he'd not seen in many years, making his way towards the Oracle's table. He caught the eye of Kethan's butler and inclined his head ever so slightly, knowing full well of his friend's ailment and reliance on the butler. Rania said "We have some announcements to make.." and Vahanian couldn't help but immediately wish he had 30 more Templar inside this pavilion alongside Antonia and Ferdinand. He ever so subtly used his left hand to slightly withdraw his sword from it's sheath by a single inch. Vahanian was confident that none of these nobles would attack the Oracle, but his unrelenting overbearing protectiveness was part of the reason that she had entrusted her own and Stheno's safety to him more times than he could count. Vahanian had no doubt that Rania could level this room with her magic, but he'd never been one to ignore the mundane in favor of the magical, and he was surely not going to start now.. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus stood up and walked to stand next to the Oracle, he gave a short bow to the young woman that the Oracle had patted shoulder, he then spoke
"Greetings M'lady, I am Marcus Daubeny, Steward to the Oracle" He then turned to the Oracle "My Oracle, Would you like me to have the nobles quiet down and listen so your declaration can clearly be heard by all?" | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Ruairí had watched the dance as many in the crowd had done, with rapt attention held firmly upon the Duke and mysterious woman by the quick tempo of the music. Fabric twirled out in a glorious display as Stheno was spun round and round, the crowd practically gasping in delight. But in the background of the dance other factors were at play, people still moving about as it were, and especially the older noble and the Steward of the realm caught the attention of the knight of Ardmore. For the latter it was an initial look of panic that rested on his face which brought Ruairí's brow to raise in curiosity. But the panic abated it seemed and with it a more searching eye was adopted by Daubney, who seemed to be scanning the gathered crowd. "Curious, I wonder what he is looking for..." Ruairí thought to himself as he regarded the Steward a moment longer. But as Daubney moved towards the tawny skinned woman to whom great deference was being showed Ruairí's hazel hued gaze was inevitably drawn to the aged D'Espana who was also approaching this same woman, with perhaps a little more trouble as it seemed guards were barring his passage.
Having never actually seen the Oracle Ruairí was among the number of nobles who did not know in whose presence he was actually in. But there was a grace to her, a commanding presence that was impossible to deny, and in which the others in the room readily responded to when she moved. Like a parting of the proverbial sea, so would those same nobles so taken by the dance move for the Oracle as she walked through their number. Added with the esteem the Duke then showed, as well as the guard around her from before and it really wasn't hard for Ruairí to put two and two together. The youthful knight's fingertips lightly tightened upon the wooden box that was his gift, knowing now to whom he sought to give it to. Next was just finding a moment's time to manage it as he was but a simple knight in a court of Counts, Countesses, Margraves, Margravines, Dukes and Duchesses. As such he would likely have to wait his turn to gain an audience; after all his showing in the tournament was average at best and his only deed of note so far was the prediction of the formation of the new realm before it was announced. To which he had sent letters only to the Grandmistress and it was unlikely in his mind that his name would have circulated because of that. In time, he hoped it would change, and maybe his future works would do so. But for now he was sure he would have to wait and he accepted that fact the instant he knew just who she was. The Oracle's voice rang out soft enough to quiet the crowd and with the power of personality to command attention. Six simple words and silence took those so assembled to hear what was to come. Ruairí was certainly among that number so silenced, and his attention would have been held completely were it not for the protective Duke at her side. Of all those in the room he was the only one that held a tension in his shoulders, and kept a watchful eye and those assembled. To those who paid attention, it was a break in the illusion, and in spite of himself Ruairí's own hazel hued eyes began to scan the faces within the room. The dark haired knight trying to see what the Duke was looking for, though his own training in spotting such hidden dangers was still very much lacking compared to the Duke's practiced eye. | |
| Ruairí Mac Róláin | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian scanned the assembled nobles most of whom had quieted down as the Oracle spoke. He assessed potential threats, which targets he would neutralize first and how he would best get the Oracle out of here should he need to. It was a part of his brain he couldn't and wouldn't turn off.
Marcus walked over and introduced himself to Stheno before asking the Oracle a question. Stheno looped her arm through Vahanaian's and looked at Vahanian and he simply shook his head. She released the grip she had on the knife strapped to his forearm and he suppressed a smile. The Oracle glanced over at Vahanian and he nodded, a wordless conversation passing among the three friends. Vahanian stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Lord Steward Marcus, a splendid party you've put together. Would you do an old man the courtesy of helping my dear friend into a seat near mine own?" Vahanian gestured towards Kethan with one hand, and with the other guiding Marcus away from the Oracle.
| |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus smiled at the Duke,
"Thank you Duke Blint, I am honoured to here that coming from you, I just hope the party continues to go smoothly. As Marcus finished he noticed for a mere second a flash of light coming from where the Girl whose name he didn't know intertwine her arm with the Duke's, he felt a bit on edge from the nod and smiled of the Duke, but he trusted Blint with a small bow he walked back over to the the High Table and called for another chair, he sat in his seat and looked at Vahanian. "Who is she, the girl you were dancing with?" Marcus then quickly added "She is clearly of some import to the Oracle and You and I truly do hate not being in the loop with these sorts of things, it makes my job as Steward much harder." He then sipped from his light blue drink. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| It didn't take being able to see to know that emotions were high. Before being able to get past the Oracle's guards, whispers and gasps all around gave Kethan more than enough information about Vahanian and Stheno's dance. Many were wondering about the young woman's identity, but the nagging suspicion was quickly confirmed when Maulde leaned closer to him and relayed what he was seeing.
- "M'lord, Lord Blint and a young woman that matches your description of your former ward are the cause of this agitation. They are dancing under the keen eye of Lady Rania herself, and not a soul here seems unimpressed." Old feelings that used to lay dormant awakened. Kethan tried to keep his composure as the dance ended, and Maulde promptly informed him that Vahanian had surely seen them, as well as about the curious wordless exchange between Vahanian, Stheno and Rania. He was still pondering about it all when, all of a sudden... - "We have some announcements to make...". Rania did sound different, that for sure. More mature, of course, but there was also something else. Authority, perhaps, but could it also be...? Vahanian interrupted that particular train of thought when he requested Marcus to escort him to the table. Facing the young nobleman the best he could out of hearing alone, he gave a small nod before making it as easy as possible on the steward. No need to steal anyone's spotlight, and much less Rania's after such a powerful beginning. Taking a seat with Marcus' assistance, he let out a heavy sigh and listened closely for the Oracle's continuation. Maulde, knowing fully well that his master could very well need of his services sooner or later, simply stood behind Kethan with a surprisingly interested look on his usually serious face. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian smiled at the young steward as the man voiced a frustration that Vahanian echoed. Not knowing could be so tedious, and surprises dropped in your lap are rarely pleasant. Vahanaian sat down next to Marcus, pulled out his pipe and struck a match against the arm of the chair. Vahanian puffed on his pipe before saying "Her name is Stheno, she is someone the Oracle and I care about very much.... She is the Oracle's daughter." Vahanian chuckled at the look on Marcus's face, it was the usual reaction of surprise when one heard the Oracle had a daughter for the first time. "I have cared for her since she was very young. Guided her, trained her, protected her, in a way, I've raised her." Vahanian wasn't sure if the question was forming in Marcus's mind, but he decided to head it off anyway. "She is not my daughter, at least not by blood..." Vahanian smiled and leaned in to whisper to Marcus and said "..But when has family ever been limited by blood." There was a mysterious twinkle in Vahanian's eye as he sat back and puffed on his pipe. His attention focused on the Oracle and the announcement she was about to make. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| The Oracle’s words draped over them like a shawl as she addressed the gathered greats of the Scared Realm, and though Stheno was aware enough to note how quickly and subtly Duke Vahanian had rerouted Marcus’s inquiry, it was secondary as her entire world had narrowed down to that gentle, strong hand upon her shoulder.
“First,” the Oracle continued, “We are grateful to you all for coming and participating in the festivities, and it would be in very poor taste if We did not also acknowledge and celebrate Our Steward, Farseer Marcus, for the role he played in arranging and hosting this entire affair.” “Second” The Oracle went on, “We would like to welcome, and thank, the men and women who have heeded the call to Jidington and the project to bring the Sacred Realm closer to Our Shattered cousins. If this day is to be a celebration of Our life and accomplishments thus far, then We think it only fitting to place a gaze upon the future and hunger for the deeds yet to be done. You are all essential to realizing a peaceful southern union ‘neath Obeah’s sheltering eye for the good of all Heraldrim. “Third,” The Oracle continued, “We wish to officially acknowledge Alacrix Galar, formerly of Our own Farseers and fiefdom. Alacrix astounded all by winning the tournament,” The Oracle turned her head to pick out the man in question, and Stheno’s amber-obsidian gaze followed suit. Despite her state, she was interested in what the winner of a knightly contest of arms might look like. “We are grateful that he dedicated his victory to Obeah’s guidance, as is proper. We name him a Champion of Obeah and we hope that he will be able to defend his title when We turn 61…” There were some chuckles at this, and Stheno had no doubt that Rania was intentionally painted something of a target on Alacrix’s back. It was her style: Those who couldn’t rise up to a challenge she placed before them would make way for someone who could WHILE bettering themselves in the process. She called it “coaching.” And Stheno couldn’t help but remember what happened to some of those that had failed to rise to the Oracle’s expectations, it was a favorite carping point that Uncl…Duke Vahanian loved to go over and over….and over. She hoped the strong-looking Farseer would preserver avoid that fate. “Fourth, We wish to acknowledge the return of Our dear friend, Kethan D’Espana. Just as his father aided my family and eye in the past, so to as the son don in the present. He is frail now, yes, and close to the Veil, but know that his golden heart is that of a dragon. We tell you now that without this man. We would not be here, none of you would be here. He has come to Us for healing, and he shall have it by all the magic the veiled Goddess has placed at Our disposal. We can count on one hand those who have, knowingly or unknowingly, held the very fate and souls of nations in their hands. For this, we publicly revere him.” Stheno was surprised and delighted when the Oracle pointed Kethan out. It had been he, she knew, that had rescued Rania from having to give birth on the streets of Fheuvenam. It was he that had been her only childhood friend in the Shattered Vales, and who had helped her to cope with being different. She adored him, but she sensed that the Oracle was not through, and the pavilion was pregnant with silence. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| “Finally, a presentation. We wish to introduce this young woman to proper Heraldic society.” The hand tightened on Stheno’s shoulder even as the lungs tightened in her chest. Gently, she was turned to face the crowd of splendid onlookers, and she felt suddenly naked beneath their open curiosity. Rania’s hand gripped softly, reassuringly, and Stheno took strength from the near-invisible gesture. She squared her shoulders and evened her stance. “This is Stheno. The laws of men recognize her as an adventurer-“ With her left hand, Rania produced a small stack of official-looking, wax-stamped documents and held one up “-But Duke Erheas believes that she should be a knight.” She pressed the recommendation to Stheno’s chest and the younger woman took hold of it, but Rania was already holding aloft two more. “Duke Vahanian believes she should be a knight, Grandmistress Jessica believes she should be a knight. And I-,” Rania said as she turned Stheno around to face the crowd, standing a head taller behind the young woman. Stheno couldn’t have known that it was the first time the Oracle had dropped the royal “We” to which she was entitled, but the stiffening spines, pricking ears, and squaring shoulders of the assembled noblemen was a clear enough indication that if it had never been done, it was extremely unusual. Rania wasn’t speaking as the Oracle now, or even as a Duchess. She was speaking as herself, and even Stheno had to think hard to place the last time she had heard it. “-I know that she was born to be a knight, even if it took her some time to agree. Stheno could almost feel Rania smiling behind her at that and her eyes began to roll before she remembered herself.
“Nobles, Heraldrim, children of Obeah, I this young woman present to this great society. No more shall she be known merely by her given name. This is Stheno of the Eastersand clans, third in line of the House of JeVondair. She is my daughter, and today at last, I am pleased to name her my heir.” Duke Vahanian was the first to clap and shout his excitement, and others followed suit, must to Stheno’s flushing embarrassment. But Rania was not finished. Stheno again felt the pressure on her shoulder as her mother turned her about to be face to face once more. “Bow” she commanded, and the Oracle’s voice was back, brooking or accepting no argument. It had been the bane of her existence in her youth, but now she was electrified and her spine seemed to bend of its own accord. The Oracle reached out with a hand, and Vahanian, who had probably been in on this spectacle from the very beginning, was already at hand to pass the Oracle’s Edict to its owner who then ceremoniously touched the massive, uncut sapphire to her left shoulder. “Do you Stheno of the House JeVondair swear on your blood that you will behave with and uphold the values, traditions, and the noble obligations of your Great House, to remember its winds and its sands and the heat of the sun that forged it? All Stheno could say was “Yes, I do.” The Edict moved to tap her left shoulder. “And do you,” The Oracle continued, “Swear to do all in your power to uphold the articles and conditions of Our faith and fealty before the Veiled Goddess? To bring Her divine word hither and yon, and to impress the peoples of the world by your Service, so that they may know Her cause is Just? To offer yourself, body and soul, as have the members of this august company here assembled to bear witness?” Stheno felt the eyes of all upon her. Her mouth was impossibly dry and wouldn’t swallow, as if all the moisture ordinarily reserved for it had instead been delivered to the palms of her hands, and she couldn’t tell if it was excitement, anxiety, or fear that caused her voice to crack a little as she confirmed “Y-yes, I do so swear.” The Edict was withdrawn, and in its place, Stheno felt her mother’s warm hands once more. “Then arise, my child, and embrace me as a Dame of the Heraldrim!” Stehno’ blinked in surprise, her mother never shouted, but the exuberance in her voice was so infectious as to be unmistakable, and Stheno blinked back tears she hadn’t realized were coming until they threatened to fall at that very moment. Rania pulled her in and hugged her tight, and Stheno squeezed back with everything she had. “You have a choice now, my girl. You can stay and help with what has been built here, or you can take ship east to squire under and be trained by the Phoenix Queen and her Duke of Blades.” | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno’s eyes widened still further. To be invited to join in the birth of a new nation as a true noble was not something she’d ever expected for herself, but she knew her mother’s plans and they were grand indeed, who knew what she, Stheno, might achieve there? Then again, there were few rocks large enough to live under for one to have never heard of the warriors of Redhaven and the legends that lived among them: A battlequeen who feared neither Time nor Death, an Invincible General, A Mountain that rides, rumors even said elves on more than one occasion. To Stheno, it was as though all the magic in the world were in the East, along with all the heroes she revered. She shot a glance at Vahanian, who merely smiled back. Suddenly, she was certain how Rania had discovered that particular desire of hers.
“Thank you…mom.” She whispered, voice small and heavy with the joyful tears she hadn’t allowed to fall. She didn’t see Rania grin with pleasure before she pulled back and held her mother at arm’s length so she could look into the eyes of the woman was mother to her and, in a sense, to everyone around her. Then her eyes slid over Vahanian and the others present who had only ever showed her kindness and knew that if the decisions was hers to make, it had already been made many times over. Her life was here, her family was here. “Thank you, Oracle,” she said louder and with new confidence. “it would be my honor if you recommended me to serve under such heroes, but I’ve already made my choice. I will stay,” she declared firmly, “and I will help you realize Obeah’s vision. I will see Lord Kethan healed and the Jidington Realm prosper. My fealty hence and always, is given to the Veiled Goddess. I will work Her Will in the world. Just like you!” And then her voice was lost in the raucous, welcoming cheers of the Sacred Court. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus was awestruck by what had just happened, First the Oracle openly thanked him for his party, which made him feel proud of what he has done tonight and then see openly embraced her child and has brought her into the nobility of Obia'Syela.
Marcus decied he would have to talk to Steno soon and formally welcome her and hopefully get to know the Oracle's daughter but firs, cake. He decided to tap his glass with his spoon which did't get everyone's attention though Duke Blint and Kethan noticed. He then motioned for a servant, he whisper something to them and the servant ran off. A minute passed and a bell was handed to Marcus he rung it. once, twice, thrice eventually the nobles became silent again allowing Marcus to speak, he set the bell down and smiled. "I would like to thank the Oracle for her kind words about me and Lord Kethan, I also would like to welcome Stheno Eastersand JeVoindar officially to Obia'Syela as a noblewoman, I know you will rise high in our realm, I would also like to announce that in few minutes there will be cake and after cake everyone will present their gifts to the Oracle, after that I will not bother you all again." The last statement got a chuckle from a few nobles. Marcus raised his cup "Now, Let us celebrate." Marcus then drank and sat back down as festivities continued. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura slowly drifted towards the area of prominent people and interest. Like tide eating away at the shore over decades, her motion was nigh impossible to notice, yet by the time the Oracle was done with the proclamation she was already at her destination. The destination being duke's back, surprisingly straight for an octogenarian.
As she found some space within the cheerful noise of the gathered, she said: "I believe congratulations are in order." - startling people at both sides of the addressed duke. Were it any noble less vigilant than Vahanian, he would be startled as well, but the old wolf, if shown any hint of surprise, Maura knew well it was most certainly feigned. Or perhaps she was mistaken. After all even closest comrades only ever knew her in a bulky armour or Inquisitorial robes. She never wore a dress before, not even to parties she attended. Indeed the impractical dark blue material tightly hugging her in places where one would appreciate a freedom of movement and somewhat restricting things as useful as breathing made her hardly able to recognize herself. Perhaps others would be equally confused. Nodding towards Stheno she spoke in low voice: "Such rise in formal court is not an easy feat" - she decided against adding 'I know that better than anyone', seeing no point in reminding that she was born outside of a noble recognition - "I know she was always treated as Oracle's proper daughter by those close to her, but technically I do not think the Oracle was married, so Stheno didn't have it any easier to make the leap, especially considering other factors..." Before venturing too far the Inquisitor changed the subject - "You must be proud. I can't seem to forget that time I watched you train Stheno and your... well. My late lady Jarra was a fosterling, I was raised an orphan, I can't say either of us ever knew the love and guidance I saw the young lady receive from you that day." "Speaking of guidance!" - Maura grinned at the mental image still alive in her head - "Should I be surprised at how good of a dancer you are? Truly splendid work at claiming the evening's floor for the pair of you, almost as splendid as the one you did at hiding that Antonia'ed shoulder of yours." - she gently applied an all-too-familiar friendly backslap at the Duke's upper shoulder. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian was wrapped up in the moment. He had eyes for only Stheno during her moment in the spotlight. His chest swelled with pride, his heart full of love and admiration. She might be Rania's daughter, but tonight he had all the pride of a father.
Maura graced the party with her presence, startling nearly everyone as she spoke from a place she had not been moments before. Vahanian feigned surprise until he looked at Maura, seeing her in a dress was something even he didn't expect. He quickly recovered and listened to Maura's congratulations. He was glad she alluded to the fact that she was born outside nobility, it was something most would find off-putting, Vahanian was the opposite. He rather liked that about Maura. She didn't grow up being fed the same porridge everyone else did. She had a unique way of looking at the world, and Vahanian respected the woman something fierce. She thumped him on the shoulder, and while he had healed, he forgot that the muscles in her arms were like banded iron. He was sure he would feel some soreness in the morning. He grinned at Maura and bade everyone's forgiveness. He wanted a word in private with Stheno. She had drifted off the side talking with some minor nobility, she made her own excuses as soon as she saw him and departed the conversation. She nearly ran over to him, her eyes still brimming with tears of joy. Vahanian, normally stoic and impassive, allowed a smile to spread across his face, reaching the corners of his eyes, as well as a single tear to streak down his cheek. She launched herself into his arms once more and he enveloped her in a hug. "Pride doesn't even begin to describe what I feel right now, little one. You've made an old man very, very happy." He put her down and wiped the tear from his face, lest he compromise his reputation. "Thank you, Uncle, I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me. I wouldn't be here if not for you." Vahanian smiled at her and said "I doubt that very much little one. You earned your place here." Her face lit up at his words, and that was all worth it to Vahanian. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small parcel. He said "I have a gift for you." He held out his hand, and she did the same. He deposited a small leather pouch into her waiting palm. She opened it and found a thin, but sturdy iron link necklace with a wolf pendent on it. "I forged that for you, so you always remember.." He paused and looked at Stheno, caressed her cheek and she asked "Remember what, Uncle?" He smiled and said "Your house name is JeVondair, but you'll always be my family. After all 'I oikogéneia den periorízetai apó to aíma'" She looked at him puzzled and he grinned mischievously and said "It's the language of my ancestors." She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. They both knew, Vahanian had trained her memory enough that she would remember each syllable until she could translate it. He hugged her again and said "Go, enjoy your evening, little one. You've earned it." She hugged him again, he kissed the top of her head and hugged her back, before she scampered off into the midst of the crowd. Vahanian leaned against one of the support poles of the pavilion and watched her disappear into the crowd as he pulled out his pipe and began smoking | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura watched the cake being brought in and felt an odd pang in her stomach akin to a phantom pain. Perhaps the corset she was forced to wear predicted the intended transgression and voiced his opposition. She quickly waved away the piece that was being brought to her and rose her eyebrows showing the panicked whites of her eyes the second Marcus mentioned presents.
She would've left her body and slapped her dumb face if such feat was possible. Showing up to the Oracle's birthday party without a gift, surely only her could dare such blunder. She quickly made use of all of her creative capacity and just as quickly walked towards the Oracle and clumsily courtsying she declared: "Your Holiness. If you'll allow. I bring thee the greatest, most unique gift of all." - she eyed Vahanian sneakily - "a gift of entertainment. A show of skill, by a most unlikely couple - now perhaps a bit rusted but once considered two best warriors in the realm..." - she allowed a smile creep up on her face - "... if His Grace Duke Vahanian will allow." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| The Cake was huge easily 6 feet tall if not more,
Its base layer was a navy blue with purple out linings of crowns from here each layer was black and had shining stars all over it, it took like the night sky outside, He went to the Oracle's side and handed her a knife to cut the cake, though the knife more resembled a sword due to its size. "Oracle, would you do us all the honour of cutting the first slice." | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| Kethan listened to Rania as she spoke, admiring the power behind her voice yet again. How different she was from the woman he had assisted once, back in the Vales, now more than 25 years ago. She was mostly acknowledging several noblemen and congratulating those deserving of recognition, as was to be expected. However, he was not quite ready for the moment his turn arrived.
- “Fourth, We wish to acknowledge the return of Our dear friend, Kethan D’Espana. Just as his father aided my family and eye in the past, so to as the son don in the present. He is frail now, yes, and close to the Veil, but know that his golden heart is that of a dragon. We tell you now that without this man. We would not be here, none of you would be here. He has come to Us for healing, and he shall have it by all the magic the veiled Goddess has placed at Our disposal. We can count on one hand those who have, knowingly or unknowingly, held the very fate and souls of nations in their hands. For this, we publicly revere him.” He hadn't been able to recover when Stheno's presentation to the high society arrived. He listened again to the achievements of his former ward, and an immense sense of pride and regret began forming inside. Pride, because he had kept her safe during her first years of life. Regret, because he had left her far too young when his illness had began to grow more wild and uncontrollable, making him fear for his life. Luckily Vahanian had stepped up and kept protecting and educating her, and he would never be able to properly thank the old man as much as he truly deserved. However, it was when Stheno spoke that a few tears escaped his closed eyes, tears that he took a second too long to wipe off his face. In all the years he had protected her, she had barely ever uttered a word. Now, she spoke firmly and clearly, and the sound of her voice stroke deeply buried feelings in a way that made him uncomfortably emotional. He could not resist a second wave when she said that she was going to heal him, and he visibly moved in his seat until he managed to somehow get his emotions under control again. Thankfully, Marcus claimed everyone's attention and signalled for the cake to come, which gave him a few very valuable seconds to recover. He was liking his energy and obvious attempts to maintain the party under control, and Kethan made a quick note to speak to him at some point of the celebration. Maura's sudden appearance did take him by surprise, though he immediately focused back in the task at hand. He needed to talk to Stheno, to apologize to her, to congratulate her, to... Stheno suddenly arrived to the table, launching herself at Vahanian. Hearing her voice, Kethan stood very still, listening to their conversation while trying to appear busy by nervously playing with his cup and plate. Shame and regret once again overwhelmed him, and he sighed audibly as she stepped off the table and back to the party again. However, he knew she would probably be waiting for some sort of acknowledgement or explanation. While Maura was trying to get Vahanian to dance for the Oracle and Marcus was overseeing the details of the cake ceremony, Kethan grabbed his cane, apologized to those around him, stood up and whispered to his servant. - "Take me to her." Once Kethan placed his hand on Maulde's shoulder, as he used to do when in difficult terrain or crowded spaces, the middle-aged man guided him to Stheno, who was naturally besieged by all those wanting to congratulate her and get close to the Oracle's newly recognized daughter. Cutting through with vulnerable looks and very believable excuses, he finally reached the young woman, and once Maulde gently tapped the hand he had placed in his shoulder, he knew he was looking straight as Stheno. - "I... Uh... I don't know how much do you remember of me, Stheno. You were only a little girl the last time I saw you, and it has been many, many years since that time. I..." He felt weak, sweat beginning to run down his forehead and the cane barely holding him on his feet. He thought he wouldn't be able to do it, but he suddenly remembered the immense pride he had felt when Stheno's accomplishments were being announced. She deserved an apology, period. And he was going to deliver. - "I should have never left you, Stheno. I was afraid and scared, and I didn't understand what was happening to me. I know Lord Vahanian has done a magnificent job at taking care of you, the fact that you are here now more than proves it, but..." Behind Kethan, Maulde was looking straight at Stheno, trying his best not to roll his eyes at his master. He knew how much he had missed the girl, and he was also aware of how awkward was it for her to listen to Kethan saying all that. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| With some very expressive gestures, Maulde tried to tell Stheno to just stop Kethan right there and show him some gesture of affection. He knew that would finally melt his master's heart, and some genuine approach to the running emotions of both would do them well. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix was taken way with the Oracle’s speech. The honor she gave him brought new joy and faith to his heart. He was very puzzled by who the woman was that the Oracle introduce to the gathering. Better ask Maura before she elbows me again, he thought. “Maura do you know wh...”
He quickly realized that he was all alone. Oh no, he thought. You’re not going to duck out on me that easily, especially after the abuse that you heaped upon me. With that thought Alacrix set forth to find Maura. Luckily for him Marcus had the cake brought out for the Oracle and Maura just happened to have been standing next to it. Thank Obeah for that. If that hadn’t happened he doubted he would have found her at all. He arrived to hear her ask Blint a question. “Excellent!” He stated. Not really knowing what was going on or what was excellent. Normally it was always a good word to exclaim. He gave Maura a quick side glance. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian turned as Maura mentioned a bout of entertainment between the two of them. She shot him a glance and he chuckled to himself. He was quite sure this was spur of the moment and entirely improvised. He walked over to Maura and the Oracle, bowed his head to his two friends and said "I would be honored, Lady Maura." He twisted the word Lady a bit as a friendly jab. Maura, normally inexplicably good at masking her emotions, looked at Vahanain with a look that told him he would likely regret the friendly jibe. Vahanian looked past Maura for a moment and saw Kethan speaking with Stheno, from the reaction of Kethan's butler, Vahanian assumed Kethan was less than gracefully bumbling through his conversation. Vahanian wasn't sure how much of Kethan, Stheno remembered. It was a subject that had notoriously been touchy with her, and one he decided long ago wasn't in his best interest to press. His attention divided between Maura's conversation with the Oracle and Kethan's interaction with Stheno, Vahanian didn't quite fully know what he was agreeing to do with Maura. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| The Oracle had summoned Lord Herald Eva to attend her at High Noon, right in the very midst of the ongoing Tournament and attendant celebrations. Eva was not late, but it was a minor pilgrimage up the wound halls and stairways of the immense palace that was The Basilica of Rines. The journey was enough to exhaust the physically-able, much more so those who lead more sedentary lifestyles. Eva could understand how the Oracle, widely known as a reclusive woman, would value the...natural discouragement to ward off all but the most determined of callers. To say nothing of the security! It felt to Eva as though she were stopped and challenged without end by the Oracle's Paladins, blue-armored sentinels that patrolled the Basilica in pairs and stood guard at various points all the way to the Oracle herself. What's more, Eva noted, they all seemed to know exactly who she was and what business she was on, yet still each pair queried her as if they knew nothing of the sort. To call the unnatural barriers the Oracle erected around herself substantial would be something of an understatement. Small wonder why half the court thought the Oracle a mystery.
Then, as the bells of noon began to ring across the Moonlight City, Eva was at last admitted to the Oracle's foremost sanctum. The Solarium was the architectural marvel of the Basilica of Rines. Placed at the pinnacle of the large central tower, the Solarium was the highest room in southern Beluaterra. The room was only accessible by a long, wide, winding flight of steps that eventually reached a trap door, now open. Upon emerging, most visitors first notice the Solarium's ceiling and learn how this room got its name. It's ceiling and walls were a latticework of bronze-plated supports and pains of clear glass forming a dome over a room about the size of a dining hall and ringed by a circular balcony that afforded a better view of Rines to those that were brave enough to walk it. A low, comfortable couch sat atop a thick blue carpet set along the western edge sat facing the wooded hills of Athol Margos, poised to welcome the moonrise. Vases and hangings filled with exotic plants were spaced regularly throughout. Arcane symbols had been painted in intricate golden patterns across the stone floor. A circular table of hasty but solid construct had been arranged in the center. Outside, the night was alight with stars and the rising crescent moon, if not for the lanterns that had been lit for the summit, visitors to the Solarium might get the impression that they were walking among those celestial bodies. Whereas in the daytime, curtains of sheer white linen hung from the supports like banners, billowing with the slightest breeze, protecting occupants from the blazing sunlight. It was a bright day outside and sunlight sliced through the spaces left between the linen shades, leaving shifting pools of a radiance across the stonework floor. It was in one of these pools of gold that Eva laid eyes upon the Oracle for the first time. Rania Eastersand JeVondair sat cross-legged on one of the two thick, comfortable cushions near the Solarium's center with a thick tome in her hands. The Oracle of Obeah was a striking figure. Tall for a woman, even seated, and slender of frame but strong of build. At age 60, she wouldn't be fighting anymore duels, and her once-chocolate hair was now liberally threaded with bands of silver, but to look at her was to gain the impression that she certainly still could if the need arose. Rania wore the stately, comfortable white robes of her vocation. Across her face she wore a symbolic, ceremonial veil of religious office denoting her allegiance to the Veiled Goddess. And, Eva noticed, marking this meeting as official Heraldic business. In short, she looked like the woman she was rumored to be: A priestess, a queen, and an eminently capable sorceress. Rania looked up with an unsurprised expression and smiled, gesturing to the cushion seated opposite her in open invitation. "Welcome, Little Sister," she said, eyes glinting in the sunlight. "We have such sights to show you..." | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| It was something...something I will never forget. Still the event lingers in my thoughts even as the discomfort from the journey up and down the basilica fades. Never would I have thought that such a building would exist. So many stairs, so many guards. I know you haven't a care in the world about these nameless faces. Nor do you care about the stairs. I only mention them for they were many. Like stars hiding behind the cloudy night sky, unseen but never-ending and always present. Exaggeration I know but you should have seen it. A sight to behold it was. But as you know, I didn't go to the basilica to climb stairs and stare at Templars. Eventually I made it to the Solarium. Maybe it was the stairs, maybe my nerves, regardless my heart raced and with each thump another bead of sweat seemed to form. If only I wore a thinner robe I thought. Too late now, for I finally stood in front of Her.
You remember the tales of Her beauty no? Well, she may have aged and the veil she wore may have been a keenly worn mask but I knew what lay beneath. No, it was not my imagination. Many would simply see what they wanted but not me. I saw Her, as she was and not as I wanted Her to be. The signs of aging were there, gentle beginnings of wrinkles and the glimmers of grey in her hair. Despite all of this, the veil of time and cloth, she still retained her beauty. Looks are not all that tend to fade, for many grow weaker in their age. It is hard to say if her strength has diminished. She wasn't exactly out fighting in the tournament that energized the city around us. I like to think she would have been capable of holding her own out there. Alas, strength was not needed for our encounter. This was to be a display of wisdom. When I first saw Her, she was seated on the opposite end of the room on a cushion. In her hand was a tome and on her face a smile. With a gesture she offered me a seat and welcomed me. Her voice was smooth as silk as she said, "Welcome, Little Sister. I have something to show you." I will admit, her voice caught me off guard. For some reason I exposed it to be a bit more raspy. And Little Sister? What did that mean? I expected a formal greeting but this, this wasn't exactly motherly but one that gave an appearance of equality while still expressing a distance. It is possible that this was just a common phrase but I have never heard it before. I would be ready to believe it was just a saying with little meaning but it would require her to be a bit careless instead of deliberate. That can't be the case. She knew what she was doing. From the place of the meeting, atop the basilica, to the arrangement of the room and her place in it. Every detail was planned, I'm sure of it. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| “See you?” Rania inclined an eyebrow, a laughing glint in her eye. “I may be old, but blind I am not. Had I but wanted to see you, child, I would have sent for a portrait, or perhaps a skilled poet…” she mused, making a show of serious consideration. “No, little sister, I’ve summoned you here to know you.” The Oracle reached up to remove the High Priestess Veil she wore, banishing the last officious barrier between the two and smiling warmly.
She reached into the tome she’d been reading and plucked out a loose, folded page which she then laid neatly on the low table between them. It was a map! As Eva deciphered its markings, Rania waited. The younger woman was sure to realize that the Oracle had been tracking her movements. Or, more precisely, her preaching. The map was studded with scrawled notations denoting increases in the number of faithful, low and highborn alike. Indeed, there was an entire section of notes denoting Eva’s returning of Sir Jheda to the faith. Rania had been especially delighted by that, but Eva’s work and calm demeanor had been commented upon by many already. Before Eva could ask, Rania spoke again. “You know…” She began in a friendly, non-chalant tone, “I remember when you first came into my care. If I had suspected then what I do now, then we would have had this little chat earlier. But you see-“ she paused, frowned down at the tray with the map upon it for a moment, looked up, and clapped her hands. Moments later, one of the armored Paladins that guard the Solarium clanked in. Instead of a weapon, the paladin held an additional tray with a delicate porcelain tea set, already steaming. He set it down next to the two women, saluted, and retreated down out the trap door that was the Solarium’s only entrance. Rania picked up the pot with a delicate, practiced manner, revealing the faded blade-scars along her hands from her younger, more violent days. Finished, she tried a sip herself and sighed in satisfaction before gesturing palm open to the second tea cup, a clear indication that it was Eva’s if the younger priestess desired it. “But you see…” she repeated, “It is not my place, even as the Oracle, to select the destiny of a fellow noble. Like the star-gazers of old, I merely chart the course of possibilities and adjust them as the are affected by events. You, Little Sister,” she sipped again, “Your course changed the instant you returned one of my Farseers home to me.” Rania was referring to Sir Jheda, who had left the Heraldic Order some months previous to wander adrift. It was Eva that had throne him a lifeline of faith, reaching a heart that had frustrated even Rania’s own efforts. Rania had been quietly surprised and delighted, and had marked Eva down as one to be watched and nurtured ever since. “I brought you here, young one, because I wanted to take your measure, priestess to priestess. I had intended to ask you why you came to serve Obeah as you do, to understand what moves and drives you, to look into your heart through the windows of your soul to see what is written upon its walls. But I have always had something of a talent for reading people, and I see you in you everything I’d hoped to. Whether or not you can rise to the challenge I have in store for you, however, only you can decide.” | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Rania sipped her tea as she allowed her words to sink in. Eva, it seemed, was somewhat overwhelmed, but Rania understood. To be summoned to the pinnacle of power in the Faith, never mind the South, and to be told that you have been watched and approved of would be a lot for anyone, and Rania was thankful that her many years of oratory experience had given her masterful control over her facial expressions, lest the ebullient grin lurking in the depths manage to burst out. She wanted to give Eva time to reply, but she had still more to say. She placed her teacup down to indicate as much.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, Grandmistress Jessica will be leading the Heraldic initiative in Jidington. This was at my direction, and I do not do anything by halves. We discussed the possible successors to the Obian throne that would be the best fit for these times and challenges that face us. It is my opinion that Jessica has been the greatest leader this realm has had since the founding. Those are some incredibly big shoes to fill. Even then, though, I’d already had a firm notion in my mind as to who I would want to follow in her footsteps, even as she followed in mine.” Rania’s levity slowly seeped away as she spoke, her well trained voice was mellifluous as ever, but her tone had shifted to that of a sovereign as Rania put on her Oracle-face. This matter was one of gravity. “I told Grandmistress Jessica that if I had to pick one person to succeed her in carrying my Vision into the future, I would pick you. The only question I have now is do you share my belief, or do I find someone who does? The Oracle of Obeah sipped her tea and waited intently. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura smiled deviously in reply to Vahanian's jibe and snapped her fingers to summon a servant. She moved her hands over the material tightly fitting her hips, saying: "As you can plainly see I have no tools of the trade on me, allow me to just..." - she whispered something to the servant's ear and before long the young lad returned with two five feet long quarterstaffs and as he bowed he clumsily handed them to the Inquisitor.
"Your -Grace-" - Maura tried to mimick Vahanian's inflection from before as she tossed him one of the staffs, intentionally making it spin around the y-axis. The reflexes of the old wolf outrageously defied his age. Maura squinted her eyes in feigned malice. "Well, your shoulder might still remember the tournament, your bones might recall finer days, my own might be slightly out of practice, not to mention this..." - she looked down at her evening gown, half-cut at knee height yet still obviously uncomfortable - "... impractical attire. Plenty of imperfections between the two of us... a 'Match of Flaws' let us call it then." Maura waved her staff around prompting gathered crowd to make some space until she turned to Alacrix, who was now beside her. She cut short the giggle that was forming in her throat, then as if with a handsome thief caught climbing the window amidst the night she pondered whether to toss him to the cobblestone beneath or let him in. After a brief deliberation she ushered Alacrix to the side along with the rest of onlookers. But to him she whispered: "As I said - it is a match of flaws. I don't think you have any, Champion Alacrix..." - then noticing apparent disappointed of her noble companion she quickly pecked him on the left cheek and said - "wish me luck" - before turning around as if in tremendous hurry, breaking the eye contact and focusing on the imminent fight. As she walked towards Vahanian and away from the young champion she felt as if someone decided to make a bonfire in the middle of the hall, the warmth on her face next to unbearable. The furies in her mind were accusing her of insanity. She couldn't help but concur. With her focus back on the fight a smile crept up on her face, prompted by the thought: 'Facing the first blade of the realm... how fortunate that we will be using no blades'. "How fortunate indeed" - she thought out loud and catching herself on the indiscretion she coughed to hide it and bowed again before the Oracle: "On your mark, Your Holiness" - she faced the lethal Duke, a glint in her eye conveyed intent as well as a written letter - 'let's give them a show, old wolf', she could swear she read a reply in Vahanian's gaze: 'yes... let's.' | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix was dumbstruck by what just happened. She kissed me! Wait! I thought she was angry at me, he thought.
Alacrix was very perplex. Just a moment a go she elbowed him in the ribs and then disappeared. He didn't even know what he said to make her so angry. She just asked what him who that knight was and he told her. I don't know why she got so angry when I pointed out Sir Ruairi. Seriously she was asking me a question about who was that knight and then looking at him....OOoh. It was then that Alacrix realized that maybe she wanted to be jealous that she was staring at some young knight that wasn't him. Then maybe when she walked she just wanted to make sure that I would follow her. More revelations were popping up in Alacrix's mind. Wait did she just say that I had no flaws? With that last one Alacrix broke out into a wild smile. And cheered Maura on. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian caught the stave and spun it in his hands. The feigned malice shooting through Maura's eye made him grin. He wondered if she knew him well enough to know he despised fighting with staves. They were clunky and unbalanced.
She whispered to Alacrix and pecked him on the cheek. Vahanian raised an eyebrow, he'd never seen Maura display any sort of physical affection towards anyone. The glint in her eye was all the message he needed, and he knew she'd read his acceptance. They squared off, more than one onlooker commented on how a fight was breaking out at the Oracle's birthday. He ignored them all, ignored everyone except Maura. He closed his eyes and took a breath. He snapped them open and advanced. As soon as he struck the first blow, he knew he'd lost. Aggressive was a dangerous way to fight against someone as skilled as Maura. Her counter to his strike was technically perfect, the force behind it, was unexpected. Vahanian berated himself, he was getting sloppy, getting slow. Maura danced around him as he had with Stheno earlier in the evening. She was light on her feet and strong with her strikes. Vahanian hated fighting on the defensive, it never suited him. She shot her stave inside his guard and caught his shoulder with a glancing blow. It hurt more than he would have expected. He hoped he hadn't winced.. He couldn't remember? He suddenly became aware of how many people were watching the bought. He tried to push it from his mind, to clear his thoughts. To focus. He shook his head, and advanced on Maura. He needed to focus on fighting right now. Strike after strike, counter after counter, parry after parry, step after step. The two friends fought, they put on a wonderful show, a remarkable display of skill and control. Vahanian caught Rania's eye more than once, she looked amused. He saw Stheno in the background, she looked a mixture of awe-inspired and worried. Worried? Why would she be worried? The thought hit him harder than any strike Maura could throw. He once again became aware of his shoulder, how much it ached. He ignored the pain. He advanced once more. Strike high, feint middle, strike high, strike low, feint high, feint low, strike middle. Maura blocked or countered it all. It was infuriating. He wished he held a sword. He was frustrated. "Oh no." He thought to himself. Emotion surged to the surface, it was like wine to a drunk, it was nourishing and poisonous, glorious and treacherous. He tried to fight it off, but he might as well have been trying to stop the waves of the ocean from breaking on the beach. His vision fogged with frustration, weariness, pain, anger. He struck at Maura three more times, and the third he over extended himself, she danced in, swept his right leg forward and caused him to drop to his knee. She flicked the stave out of his hand, and pinned her own to his shoulder. Vahanian's vision cleared, he looked up at her and immediately was grateful they were friends. She did two things he would always respect her for. She didn't position her stave in a position that would have indicated a kill in a death duel, nor did she ask him to yield. Neither was needed, both knew who won. Vahanian accepted the hand she offered, stood and faced her. He bowed to her, an unusual action for the old duke, and he said "You prove, once again my friend, why you are not to be trifled with. As with young Alacrix over there, I will be asking for a rematch soon enough.." | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| After helping the Duke up Maura returned his bow and said nothing. Those who didn't know her would think her rude or even disrespectful, the select few however were well aware that she did not speak simply because there was no need for it. She just shared an eloquent conversation with her friend even though it didn't look like it to most of the onlookers.
Talking was an artifice to Maura. To know her, to truly know her one ought to try bandying blows rather than words with her. Her true language was combat, and Vahanian spoke it all too fluently. She smiled at the old noble, dropping her usual facade as a sign of respect. Then she turned to the Oracle and bowed, hoping she enjoyed the show, before retreating to rejoin Alacrix's side. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix watch Maura walked back to him. He couldn't help but think why his face felt weird until he realized that he was smiling. Seeing Maura walk up to him and knowing that she felt something for and him feel...happy. When Maura reached his side he spoke so that only she could hear. "It feels a little hot in here. Would you be up for a walk in the gardens? If Antonia hasn't made to many changes I know a little spot that is secluded." | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno's knees felt week as the cheers greeting her mother's announcement went on. She knew she was blushing furiously from the unexpected attention: First from the dance with her Uncle, and now this! Embarrassment at her own reaction only inflamed her blush further. It was a vicisous cycle of causation that could only be stopped by seeking vengeance! First she'd nick all of the man's cherished pipeweed and then-
Stheno grudgingly stopped going down that well-worn path. Vahanian and her mother hadn't change in 20 years, and like mountains wouldn't change in twenty more. Come to think of it, she might have had better luck if they had been mountains after all. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more similarities she saw. Unbiddebn, her and rose to her shoulder where her mother's still was, and she covered it, hoding the Oracle's hand as she, in turn, held her daughter before the court for the very first time. And what a court it was! Stheno squeezed, thoughts of....practical vengeance gone as she considered the glittering crowd. There were nearly 200,000 souls in the Sacred Realm, and this small gathering held sway over basically all of them. Off the top of her head she could even name a few: There was the towering Marshal Antonia, always the easiest to pick out in a crowd. She lead the Oracle's own Farseers, elite special forces that got the best of the best an even knights competed among themselves to join. Among the other nobles, the woman seemed like a big hunting cat in too-small a cage. Stheno could empathize with that. Then there was her subbordinate, Sir Alacrix Galar, the Champion. Stheno had never seen him before, but he wore the Farseer symbol proudly on his breast, and it was marked with the rank of vice-marshal, leaving little doubt as to his identity. Somehow, she'd always imagined the man who'd turned down a wealthy lordship to serve would be, well, bigger, more Champion-y-looking. BUt she knew better than to assume by appearances. She imagined she could still feel bruises she'd earned they day she'd made a similar assumption during her first training bout with Vahanian and decided against testing Sir Alacriz. Besides, there were more, so many more. Steward Marcus was near at hand. Stheno had never met him either, but he must have been something if her mother had placed him in charge of her city. But that wasn't all, and Stheno's heart caught in her chest as she realized at least one of the members of the Grand Council was there as well. Ferdinand Greybrook was well known to Stheno. The Grey Knight, the called him. Dark Templar. Heir to the military might of Obeah and her Oracle. He was tall, broad, and handsome. Every inch the general. Stheno had often seen him from afar on those occasions when she visited the temple or nexus or rarer-still the Basillica. As Vahanian Blint's protoge and adjutant, he'd often been in her orbit. She'd also known about the...trouble there had been between him and her mother when he first took up his mentor's burden as Grand Templar. There were precious few men she'd ever known to stand up to her mother and get her to change her mind, which made him all the more attractive to the rebellion-prone teenaged Stheno. Even now, She'd never once seen him smile, not really, and the thought of how bright it must be brought a new blush to her cheeks. She was suddenly very grateful that she'd already been blushing! There were so many others here. Are notable, most powerful and beautiful. If not for her own towering birth, Stheno would surely have been starstruck. Even now, it was difficult to contain her excitement. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. That all changed, though, when her eyes returned to the sickly, elderly, pitiable Kethan D'Espana. The one person in the world that she owed her life to. Both her and her mother... Too late, Stheno remembered how perceptive her mother was, and was reminded when the hand on her shoulder gripped just a little tighter when she'd turned her head to look at the Knight of the Vales. She cursed herself for forgetting. It was no secret that the son of Ghaundan, one of the Oracle's only true friends, was not long for this world. She looked over her shoulder at Rania apologetically, but the Oracle merely shook her head and jutted her chin towards him. Understanding, Stheno turned, wrapped a hand around her mother's waist, and walked her back to her seat. Over 20 years ago, this man had saved their lives. Stheno would speak to him first before meeting the other Heraldic knights. Tonight, after the party, the JeVondair women would finally return the favor. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Though they never discussed it, Rania's thoughts mirrored her daughters all to well. Feelings of Pride at the assemblage before them, yes, but there was a great sadness too. And it had been with her the moment Kethan had arrived. In truth, Rania had not expected him from the Shattered Empire for at least a week or more, yet as Stheno guided her back to her seat at the center of the high table, she couldn't help but to remember...
Rania remembered warmly the relief she'd felt then with him there, but it did nothing to quell the iciness within that told her, in no uncertain terms, that his magical wasting illness must have been her fault... He had carried her, bleeding an worn with the runious marks of torture from the Netherworld's earthside dungeons still fresh upon her, up hills and though alleyways and all but broke down the door of Margrave Rythan Songslayer, demanding that she be given a room, healers, and material to deliver her baby safely. This man, whom she had never met and truly did not know, who had acted out of his own goodly instincts and the honor of his House, had become her hero that day. Hers and her daughters. Without him, as Rania herself had just addressed the gathered crowd, none of this would have come to be. Yet, if he hadn't acted that day, he might yet be hale. When Kethan had first written to inform her of his quest to find a magical solution to his ailment, Rania had begun to wonder if his mysterious affliction was magical in nature. Kethan was the tinkering type with a beautiful imagination. At the time, she'd chalked it up to having simply miscast a spell or too. But as time went on and the severity he reported worsened, she thought back to that fateful day in Fheuvenam, to that unexplained phenomenon that occurred before and after, and the fear that he was being somehow punished for aiding her had taken deep root. She thought perhaps it was some final revenge from the Daimon Lord Akkan, whom she'd bested in Ete, but she dismissed it. Explosions and dramatic flair was more Akkan's style, or had been before the Agyrian had beheaded that foul, insect-like daimonic priest. Besides, what magic she thought she could feel did not leave her with the same impression, and she knew she'd felt it before.... Unbidden, Rania reached out and took his hand and held it as though daring the world to try and snatch it from her. She didn't speak. She felt that she did not have to. Not with him. IF Owain Bolton, the Imperator of the Shattered Vales, had been there, he'd know waht to say. Rania's silence, however, was just as potent and she used it now. She squeezed his hand gently, warmly, and all the promise of her declaration was plane in it. She would use all the magic and knowledge at her disposal to heal him, and she would do it tonight. But first... Rania re-applied her high-priestess Veil over her face, the Oracle in full once more. then raised her Edict and let it fall. It's chime signalling to those near that she was settled. Rania planned to hold an open court here to air receive both gifts and grievances, whichever one the Obian nobles brought her. She'd decided beforehand that her birthday would be a good opportunity to meet the newer knights and revisit the older ones for a while. At least until moonrise... | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus stopped talking as he heard the chime of the Oracle.
Was there something she needed, he was very confused He shrugged and returned to the high table, taking his seat next to the Oracle, he whispered to her "Is everything ok my Oracle." He noticed she had put down her veil, something was happening. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Rania smiled at her earnest Steward, though he probably could no see the expression beneath her Veil. He had come, she could tell, because he somehow sensed her mood. Perhaps she'd left herself too raw and unguarded earlier. Perhaps it had been her body language, whcich she now consciously adjusted so as to be more approachable, rather than less as that is surely what had alerted him in the first place. Regardless, he was here now as a vassal ought to be. Rania wasn't upset with him in the slightest, but she wrestled with how much she wanted to reveal to the young man.
"Fine?" She retorted slowly, still considering. He'd caught her and probably thought her mood was a result of his efforts, a result of this grand party he'd arranged in her honor. She couldn't very well leave him that way, nor did she wish to dampen his spirits. She shook herself visibly, drawing her focus back from the dark mire they'd fallen to. It was a party, after all. Her party. And one that he had gone through weeks of effort to set up. "No" she said at last, deciding that his perceptive nature was too finely balanced to hide her feelings. "Everything is not fine," she continued, stressing the word before he took it personally. "We have many concerns that constantly prey upon Our mind. Even as We sit here in revelry, Obians are suffering," Her surreptitious glance at Kethan spoke volumes. "But everything here, right now, in this space you have created for Us is just as We could have hoped for. Better, Even. And Our gratitude is heartfelt." Before he could ask her another question, she asked one of her own. "Tell Us, do you enjoy your role in Our employ? Both as Steward and as a Farseer? It is rather rare that We get the opportunity to know directly." As she spoke with him, Stheno moved from her side to Kethan's. The girl, Rania knew, had feelings just as strong, and was likely struggling with them amid all the high emotions of the evening thus far. But for Stheno, at least, Rania no longer worried. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno watched the interplay between her mother and the Steward, but paid it no mind, He chosen to approach the Oracle, not her, and he'd appeared concerned. Stheno left them to it and instead moved and knelt next to Kethan's chair. His servant looked vaguely familiar to her, but she focused on the sickly man before her. The man that had basically raised her from a babe while her mother was at war with the Daimons and off founding...everything. Kethan had left her in Vahanian Blint's care while she had still been a small girl. Vahanian's older brother, Leatho, leader of the Blint family, had swon his entire line to the service of the Phoenix Queen and her heirs, and that bond had stretched across continents. Stheno had always been grateful, with her mother being who she was, she might have grown up in isolation otherwise by necessity. She loved the man, but she had sorely missed "Uncle" Kethan, and she told him as much so now as she laid her hands upon his.
There was great sadness in her eyes as she did. Kethan's disease had wasted him. he'd always seemed like such a strong lord, how could anything have laid him so low? She fought back tears at the thought, holding them back behind a dam of resolve, and she smiled fiercely for him, black-gold eyes glittering in the torchlight. She would mingle with the other knights, as she was sure her mother expected of her, but first she would enjoy his company. "I've missed you, Uncle. I've missed you very much. And mom is gonna fix you, just you wait and see." And as she spoke those words the promise burned deep down into her, shining out plain for him to see. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| Still immersed in his own apology to Stheno, Kethan took an embarrasingly long amount of time to register that Rania had reached out and taken his hand. Once he realized, he looked at the position where he thought Stheno was and gave her a warm look, as if trying to tell her that they would continue later. Rania's hand grasped his firmly, squeezing it softly as if trying to tell him that everything was going to be just fine, and Kethan quietly followed her back to her table, her choice for silence not going unnoticed.
Taking a seat right next to her, he tried to not listen closely to her conversation with Marcus, losing himself in the many rumbles he could faintly hear all around him. He was starting to like Marcus, even though he still didn't know the steward all that much. He seemed like a young, honest, hard-working nobleman, and those three were all qualities very desirable in a knight. His attention returned to his surroundings when he heard the softest crinkle, coming from Stheno's clothing as she approached him and knelt by his chair. Maulde said nothing, knowing full well how much did his master desire to speak to the young woman, and merely stared into the distance, leaving the two of them the best privacy they could get while at the party. Kethan stood silent, emotions running wild, but all his composure broke down the moment she took his hands. He could barely see her, as close as her face was, but he thought he could see for a moment the glitter of the golden band in his eyes and the faintest glimpse of a smile. Or maybe it was just the candles shining on his tears, he was struggling enough to keep himself from tearing up to clearly make out what little details he could see. - "I've missed you, Uncle. I've missed you very much. And mom is gonna fix you, just you wait and see." There was deep sorrow in her voice, much, much more than such a young woman should have had the disgrace to feel. However, he also perceived the utmost resolution, and he understood that Stheno was simply not going to accept his condition and premature death. No, she would fight tooth and nail to heal him, and she wouldn't take no for an answer. He felt his pride renewed, flaming deep in his heart. What a wonderful, magnificent lady had she turned into. He tried to clear his throat, words coming out hesitant and heavily charged of feeling. - "I see I have to thank Vahanian yet again, even though he will no doubt soon tire of my gratitude. My biggest dreams, most of my prayers, all of them had to do with you. With you, safely turning into a beautiful, smart, skilled and overall successful and capable woman. I may not be able to see you clearly, but the words of your mother tonight are all I needed to know you are everything I wished for, and even more." He took a moment to breathe, the emotions he had been bottling for decades raging inside his skin. - "I am sure you and your mother will do everything in your power to heal me, but I want you to know that, even if I do not make it through..."- he raised a finger to hush her complaints, which he knew were inevitably coming - "... I will go to the afterlife happy and in peace, knowing that I finally had the chance to tell you how I felt all these years. And not only that..." - he smiled briefly - "... but I also got to see you recognized and taking the place you have always belonged to. This is your world, Stheno. Savor it, for the good things life has go by almost as quickly as they come." | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno cocked her head at her old caretaker "Now Uncle," she said, smiling even though she noticed now that he could not see her well despite her nearness, "talk like that is no good. You'll have to meet my future children and regale them with tails about what a rapscallion I was..." Stheno sniffed, her voice was firmer and more confident than she felt. She leaned in and lowered her voice.
"Did mother tell you ought about how she plans to restore you?" She couldn't help the note of hopefulness that infected her tone as she asked. The Oracle had not told her anything. She knew her mother, it meant she did not plan to let Stheno participate, probably not to be involved in any way. It was frustrating. But if she could weasel even a tiny detail out of him, well, perhaps then she could think of something to help when the time came. Stheno knew she wouldn't have much longer. The party had been winding down and she knew nought what came after.... | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| The Oracle’s question caught Marcus off guard “I am happy being Steward, that doesn’t mean I don’t hope to do more but I live a good life here in Rines, I am still honoured that you chose me so lowly knight to be your Steward, yes, I enjoy being your Steward but when it comes to being a Farseer” he sighed and looked out across the party his gaze briefly settling on Stheno as she talked to a noble he didn’t know, before he looked back at then Oracle “I am no warrior and when I see the bravery of my brothers and sisters in the Farseers, I realise I can never never one of them, not truly, I have lead over 100 men into battle and not one of them still live.”
He sighed and put on a small smile “However I would not want to leave their ranks, I have made many good friends in the Farseers and it means I can remain your Steward” He hoped his answers satisfied the Oracle, He it strange that he always found it hard to lie to or refuse the Oracle, not that he had any reason to, he knew he could trust her. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| "She is such a good girl." - Kethan thought as Stheno spoke. Her concern was palpable, though he had to admit that she wasn't bad at masking her emotions when she wanted to. "I am being such a downer, and this is as much her celebration as it is Rania's. I think I should cheer her up."
Nodding slowly while he processed her question, he made an effort to forget his aches and worries and beamed his sincerest smile at her. It wasn't an impressive one, but it was also true and genuine, the best one he had been able to pull off in a long time. - "Rania hasn't told me anything about the procedure, but I do know she has been preparing for it. Even though she has been extremely accommodating to me, going as far as to host me in a palatial room at her Solarium and even allowing me to use the lift to circumvent all those stairs, most of the time I have been at the top of Rines we have been both busy, absorbed in our own duties. We have talked to each other, yes, but we have kept it closer to a conversation between old friends than anything else. My research in Rines' archives has given me some ideas as to what she might be planning, but I haven't had enough time to dare make an educated guess." Perfectly conscious that Rania was listening to every word of the conversation, even though she was also paying attention to Marcus, Kethan felt that he had already kept Stheno occupied for enough time. As sweet as meeting her again was, there were many others who awaited the pleasure of talking to her, and she could definitely use some fun after the heavy talk with her "Uncle". Besides, the weight on his shoulders finally lifted after apologizing, he was beginning to feel in a much brighter mood. Knowing that she would take a long time to leave his side unless he did something about it, he began thinking about the best way to encourage her to mingle with noblemen her age. A devious smirk suddenly appeared in his lips. He stared at Stheno intensely. - "So "uncle", huh?" - he gave a quick glance to Rania, pretty positive she would not deny him the chance of having a little fun at Stheno's expense - "And "meeting your future children", hmmm? I wonder why would you say that. Do you already have a man in your mind, my dearest Stheno? I wonder if Vahanian or your mother know anything about that. No, you don't have to explain me anything, it is only natural after all." He turned to Rania, paying no attention to Stheno's frantically embarrassed pleas to stop right there. "What do you say, wise Oracle? Has Stheno already found love? I wonder who the fortunate gentleman is. Perhaps the Champion of Obeah, Sir Alacrix Galar? Wouldn't surprise me, he is after all on the eyes of the entire realm now. Or maybe it is the architect of this magnificent celebration, Sir Marcus Daubeny, here in this table with us?" He didn't need to be able to see in order to know that she was glowing red, he could clearly hear her shifting her weight beside him, looking for an escape route away from this sudden change in the tone of the conversation. This time it was him who held her hand, preventing her from escaping unless she was willing to use a little bit more force than he knew she would be comfortable employing against Kethan. "Or perhaps it is the Grand Templar himself, Sir Ferdinand Greybrook? My loyal Maulde has told me that he is quite the handsome character." She renewed her efforts to escape, but it was all in vain. Kethan was having too much fun, and he finally decided to take it all to the following step. "I think we should invite them to have a seat here with us. Yes, Stheno, take a seat, right here. Maulde, if you would be so kind to let the Grand Templar and the Champion of Obeah know that the Oracle's daughter wishes to talk to them... No need to ask the Steward of Rines, we have him right here." Turning to the voice of Marcus, he could almost hear the silent scream that Stheno nearly let out when she saw the servant go search for the aforementioned noblemen. - "You may thank me later, Stheno, now you have fun. This is also your party, after all!" | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno shared the same dusky skintone as her sandborn mother, and for this she was profoundly thankful, for if she had been any fairer, she was confident that the blood rushing to her face as Kethan teased her would have caused minor alarm. It was a mistake, it had to be, he was just listing off prominent nobles, he couldn't have known, could he? He'd scarcely had enough time since he'd arrived to have found her out. So yes, she reasoned, it must have been luck on his part. There was laughter in his eyes, so she laughed to mask her reaction. Her mirth was genuine though. In her youth, she'd been....less than social by necessity and had learned to keep to herself, but Kethan had never seemed to care and treated her the same as he would any other child her age. She'd cherished him for that then, though she did not truly grow to appreciate it until her apprenticeship with Vahanian. Her mother had always worried that people would fear her and wish her harm, but Kethan had taught her to laugh. Perhaps inadvertently on his part, but when she'd run away as a girl to live a life of adventure, when she'd encountered real trouble time and again, she'd learned to laugh her way through them. Though she was laughing now, there was genuine mirth in her voice.
"Yes, Uncle" She emphasized. "And just who do you think you are, putting all of my business out there for the world to see? Why, I have half a mind to leave you here in my mother's company. You should be grateful," she said, her voice teasing as she elevated her nose and sniffed haughtily, "grateful, I say, that I even remember you with such fondness, long as you've been gone." She regretted the barb the instant she said it. And, to take any potential sting out of them, she rose and pecked him on the cheek, then she hugged him with all the fierceness of youth. The hug was a goodbye, for now, and a promise that she would return. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| A burst of laughter turned the Oracle's head. It was a musical, bubbling sound, like a crystal spring gurgling happily through brooks and eddys. It was her daughter's. For a brief moment, Rania disassociated. She listened to Stheno giggle at something Kethan had said, and from the twinkle in his eye, she could well imagine. She would ask him later what he had said. And she realized even as she thought that how very desperate a thought it was.
Rania had done much in her life. Been through much. And the demands placed upon her had left little time for something so small as motherhood. She was on a mission from a god. She didn't have the luxury of enjoying such a blessing. Daimons still wandered the world when Stheno had been born. Daimon Lords had called for Rania's death by name. Nevermind the gallery of human enemies the Oracle had made along her path of ascension. She'd always feared that all her love would do would be to paint a target on her daughter's back, and so Stheno had grown up largely absent of it. Indeed, the two had been so long estranged that she'd feared she'd lost the girl entirely. That was until the Violet Cataclysm had brought Stheno back to her. Rania had awakened for a horrible fugue to find the Solarium filled with her closest guardians. She'd been flat on her back, staring up into the beaten visage of her daughter, splotched with growing bruises and using scratches that rania herself had put their as the Portal energies had wracked her body, causing her to lash out blindly. Stheno had weathered it, wrestling her mother down and calling her back to herself. Indeed, it had been so violent that Antonia, who'd burst into the Solarium moments later to find a stranger atop and restraining the Oracle, had very nearly killed Stheno on sight. Through all these years of history between the two, she'd only heard her daughter's laughter a precious, precious handful of times, so now she took a moment to cherish hearing it again and said a brief prayer of thanks that she would be hearing more and more of it in the future as her daughter took her place in the Sacred Court. Too soon, Stheno's laughter stopped as she stood and kissed Kethan demurely on the cheek. The spell it had worked on the Oracle ended, and she returned her attention to Marcus with a snap of wakefulness. "Excuse Us, Marcus." She said apologetically as she returned to the discussion. "We are sure Our question caught you off guard. We have been concerned of late as to the happiness of Our subjects. not simply the redoubtably men and women of Rines who are Our direct vassals, but every child of Obeah. It is Our belief that happiness breeds happiness. The world We inhabit is vast, but intrinsically interconnected by the institution of noble houses like a web. A knight that is joyful in his responsibilities to his God and his Nation is like a wolf that has found prey. He howls with the joy of it, and his brothers and sisters, friends and family, all along his network of connections will pay heed, for they too are hungry. They will come to join the hunt and share the feast." She held his gaze. She had such plans for this one. Plans that did not involve him remain a mere Steward unto the end of his days. She looked away from him then and out into the party, eyes seeking her daughter. Stheno had left the high table to converse here and there with nobles offering their congratulations, but the torches and candles had begun to burn low. Her glance slid over to Kethan. It would be time, soon. By the sputtering of the candles, Rania knew the moon was on the rise. The Veil would be at its thinnest, and her powers at their fullest. Soon. "And yet," The Oracle continued, turning her Veiled facade to regard her Steward directly and it was clear to him that soon she would be taking her leave. "We have seen no knights here arrived to Our shores with the name of House Daubney on their writs of introduction. No recruits from other realms or new noble families brought in by your own." Her features, gestures, and tone were all subdued, soft, yet there was an unyielding quality. A Challenge. "And so we ask again, Steward of Rines, are you happy in Our employ?" | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno had left Kethan at the high table to wander among the assembled guests. Few had approached her, and Stheno tried to make herself believe that it was only the fact that her lineage had been revealed as the reason for that, rather than her cursed appearance. As a child, she'd rarely spoken, and her fest question to Kethan had been "Why do I have to be different?" He'd taken a knee then, placed a hand on her shoulder, and insisted that she wasn't different, she was special. It felt hollow then, despite his sincerity. It wasn't until Vahanian had said the same thing nearly a decade later that she'd begun to believe it and grow confident in herself. So she took a deep breath now and resolved to believe it. The Tournament had been long and hard, after all, and the actual party seemed to have lasted a full month just by itself. When she thought about it, she realized she'd been running on the high of the moment, blood had been pumping through her veins at an accelerated rate from the moment Rania had made her announcement, small wonder that she was feeling anxious about things now.
She was just about to go strike up another conversation when she heard the immediately identifiable chime of the Oracle's Edict and turned to find her mother standing once again, Ceremonial Veil glinting with dying firelight. "We wish to thank all of you for coming. We can honestly say that We have never attended so grand a celebration. We thank you for welcoming Our daughter and Our friend so warmly into your number, and even more importantly-" she said, lowering her head, imbuing the gesture with respect, "We are so very grateful to all of you, each of you, for having the strength of faith to follow us as you have, and for the courage with which you have met every challenge the Veiled Goddess has placed before us. No one missed the Oracle's glance at Kethan then, nor when the slid across the crowd to pick out Stheno's unique visage. "We have drawn breath for 60 years this day, and We can honestly say that We have never felt so celebrated, nor attended so grand an affair, as We have this day. We cherish everything that has transpired, every bit of it, and the memory will warm us well in the cold days ahead. Obeah's blessings and love be thick upon you all, and to all a good night." With that, the Oracle drew herself up to her full height and proceeded to leave. Sir Kethan's servant assisted his charge to do the same, as did Sir Marcus. Stheno joined the group of nobles that followed in the Oracle's wake, working her way past Vahanian with a tapped shoulder to draw up to Rania's side. "Is it time, mom?" Stheno said, voice heavy with antici- "-Yes, my heart." Rania said, cutting her off. She was clearly pleased that Stheno hadn't used mother, or worse, some officious title, to address her. However, it was clear she would say no more until after the party arrived at the Solarium. Stheno contented herself, it would not be long now. As they left the tourney grounds, the full moon was on the rise.. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian bowed his head as the Oracle spoke about the evening and the thanks she gave to all the assembled. She made her way to the exit and he followed, but at a distance. It'd been his honor and privileged to escort his oldest friend to this celebration, but he was fully aware that her exit was for mother and daughter alone.
He made his goodbyes to the gathered, gave one last kind nod to Maura and a hearty pat on the shoulder to Sir Marcus as he made his way towards two of the most important women in his life. At a wordless nod his guards followed the Paladins outside into the night air and held the tent flap open for mother and daughter to exit unencumbered. He moved ahead of the retainer of people and stood with his Templar by the Oracle's carriage. He held the door open for the two of them as they made their way towards him to climb into their transportation back to the Solarium. It was a small gesture, but one he meant with his entire heart. He knew the Oracle would catch the symbolism and hoped that Stheno would to, or at least think to ask her mother about it. Rania climbed into the Carriage and as she did so, gently placed her hand on top of Vahanian's in a wordless exchange of thanks. As Stheno climbed into the carriage, she smiled at him and said 'Uncle.' A loving tone in her voice, he smiled back and said 'Little one.' and resisted every urge he had to ruffle her hair as he had so many times before. She saw the look in his eye and scurried the rest of the way into the carriage out of his reach. He grinned at them both and closed the door to the carriage. He backed away before turning and mounting a horse a servant had brought him. Rania knew he would overseer their travel back to the Solarium. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| "We have seen no knights here arrived to Our shores with the name of House Daubney on their writs of introduction. No recruits from other realms or new noble families brought in by your own." Behind the Oracles gaze Marcus saw it. She was challenging him.
"And so we ask again, Steward of Rines, are you happy in Our employ?" Marcus looked beyond the veil of the Oracle and stared into her eyes, “I don’t quite get what you mean my Oracle?” Was there a correct answer to this question? “My family lives far away, I brought a few retainers with me but, forgive my ignorance my Oracle but what do you mean by Knights with the name of House Daubeny and recruits form other realms or new families brought in by my own? I am afraid I don’t quite get your meaning” “But as too wether or not I enjoy being in your employ, I already answered, I do enjoy being in your service, I do hope to one day be more then just a Steward but at the current moment I am happy with my life in Rines.” He then noticed Duke Blint readying to go, he looked at the Oracle then looked away, he wouldn’t show weakness before his liege, he stood and smiled and offered the Oracle his hand “I see you are readying to leave, by your leave I will go make sure everything is ready to go” he then called over the Scribe “The guests may stay a few hours more then have them return to their tents, if they are too drunk then drag them there” With that he left the High Table and went outside, he didn’t need to wait long before the Oracle left, her daughter by her side, Marcus nodded and mounted his horse, a Black Stallion, he rode up beside Vahanian. “If it’s fine with you Duke Blint I will see the Oracle back to the Basilica, it is my duty as host and as a Farseer to ensure her safety” | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian looked over as Marcus mounted his horse next to him. He didn't need to ask permission, but he did and Vahanian appreciated it. He nodded and said "Aye, stay alert my young friend. The Oracle is well known and loved, but Lady Stheno is not, yet." Marcus looked like he was about to urge his horse forward and Vahanian placed a hand on his arm and said in a low tone. "If anything happens to either of them, Obeah herself would not be able to subdue my fury and wrath." Vahanian clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and urged his horse forward at a slow trot. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus paled at the Duke's harsh words, he had his hand rest upon, no, the wife Lance was stolen, his hand instead settled on there Dawn Blade, Marcus smiled and spurred his horse forward to ride to the left of the Duke allowing both of them to protect either side of the Oracle need be.
Marcus felt like something was wrong, he looked around and felt on edge, they soon arrived at the Gates of Rines and Marcus waved over a City Watch Commander, "Commander, please have your men keep the crowds back, it may be night but many will try to see the Oracle, we wouldn't want any accidents happening to the Oracle, would we?" The Commander too paled and quickly had 50 men in from of and around the Carriage of the Oracle. Marcus felt better, for now | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Traversing the route back from the tourney grounds to the Basilica took far less time now than the reverse had at the start of the day. now, the moon had risen and most of the reveling had moved indoors, allowing the Oracle's entourage to make a much swifter passing. Rania and Stheno sat together in the Oracle's carriage, Stheno's head resting on her mother's shoulders as they went. Though they spoke, the words were not substantive as they had been before, merely remarking on which nobles had joined them for the journey home, which hadn't, and making private little bets as to what the other members of the court might be up to. By this time, they'd concluded, most who were likely enjoying Rines at Night. The Holy City was an ordered place, and the Watch kept that Order round the clock. It as common knowledge that they spent most of their time simply patrolling or giving directions, and there was precious few militia to aid them. There was very little else for them TO do in a city guarded by dominated daimons. Most reasonable people, however, wanted nothing to with the nocturnal 'guardians ' and did everything they could to wrap up their business and under a roof by nightfall.
Which explained why the wide Avenues of Rines were all but empty as they speed towards the city Center. When they did arrive, Rania did moved with speed. Her celebration was over, and her mind was entirely focused on the spellwork to come. Rania was somewhat surprised to see her Steward there, and he was not the only member of the court to have joined them besides the good duke, but she did not send him away. Indeed, it might do the lad some good to see her at her work... | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno exited the carriage behind her mother, but moved to Kethan's carriage to aid his manservant in carrying the old man to the lifts herself. She waved off Vahanian's offer of aid, preferring to do this herself. She possessed the same dogged determination that her mother had, and was only slightly less stubborn. She was glad to shoulder the weight. To her, it was a service, not a burden, and one she owed.
Like her mother, she was also somewhat surprised when she saw those that had followed, knowing as she did which nobles lived where, at least in Rines. Indeed, she expected her mother to bid them good evening, but when Rania did nothing, Stheno merely followed. If the Oracle didn't mind an audience, then neither did she. From the stiffness in Vahanian's shoulders, Stheno could guess what HE thought about it all. Stheno coudln't remove the image of a rooster with his feathers puffed up, and it made her want to giggle, but she stifled the erant, thought. She new she was a bit manic after everything that had happened today, her mind was a fire lit by all the possibilities that had been opened for her this wonderful day. It may have been her mother's birthday, but for Stheno, this had been the happiest day of her life. She gripped Kethan just a bit harder, anticipation radiating from her in waves. Thanks to the lift, normally-arduous trek up the Basilica went swiftly. Blue-armored Paladins of Obeah saluted before Her chosen Oracle as the party past up through the trapdoor and into the Oracle's private sanctum: The Solarium. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| "Yes, Uncle" She emphasized. "And just who do you think you are, putting all of my business out there for the world to see? Why, I have half a mind to leave you here in my mother's company. You should be grateful," she said, her voice teasing as she elevated her nose and sniffed haughtily, "grateful, I say, that I even remember you with such fondness, long as you've been gone."
The last comment stinged, but Kethan's mood was good and Stheno immediately sweetened the deal with a peck and a hug, perhaps a little too strong for his liking. He understood that she was just teasing him in return, and justly so, so he simply let it slide and smiled as she moved away, likely trying to enjoy the rest of the party. It didn't last long, though, for soon after that dusk arrived and, with it, Rania put an end to the party. Rising up after a short closure speech, she proceeded to leave. Kethan's servant assisted him to do the same, as did Sir Marcus, and Stheno joined the group of nobles that followed in the Oracle's wake, working her way past Vahanian with a tapped shoulder to draw up to Rania's side. The moon was on the rise when the Oracle's cohort began moving towards the Basilica, Vahanian and Marcus keeping watch. The streets were mostly empty and the two noblemen did good work making way for the carriages, so the journey was short and smooth. Once there, Stheno helped Kethan down his carriage and up to the lifts, which he appreciated with a few whispers of gratefulness. It was late and the day had been long and plentiful in surprises, and he was beginning to feel a powerful need to rest and sleep, as well as a sharp spike in his chronic pain. "Not yet", he groaned quietly. Stheno, still radiant from the party, gripped him a bit harder, which caused another groan. Thankfully, the lift was there to get to the Solarium swiftly and easily. Vahanian and two paladins checked the room first, after which everyone entered and the door was closed, the paladins guarding it from any danger. Shaking and sweating a little from the effort, Kethan held to Stheno and his crane slightly harder. He could hear the others, breathing, some of them even whispering as they waited for any instructions from the Oracle. Because, whatever was to happen there and then, only Rania knew for certain. And so, they waited. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus felt very unsettled, when everyone arrived at the Basilica almost all of those in the carriages were surprised to see him and not 3 seconds later he was ushered into the Basilica, its doors were barred and Marcus felt even more unsettled yet all he could do was follow the Oracle.
Now he was in the Solarium, he had never been to the Oracle's Chambers before they were big as he had expected and he then went to stand by the door, he wouldn't be disrespectful by sitting without permission. Marcus was very curious as to what was happening here, just what was the Oracle planning | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Corner of the moving platform was the spot Maura picked, though with the entourage this sizeable any attempt at remaining fairly unnoticeable was preposterous. The humble overcoat hid whatever her evening gown left unhidden, yet she still felt awkward without a proper armour of any sort. A nod to the other nobles was about as much of a commitment to social decorum as she was willing to make. Instead she turned her focus upwards - to the mechanism that was taking them to the Solarium. Merely a ruse to not get dragged into a conversation turned into genuine interest as she couldn't help but marvel at the ingenious contraption. The lines squeaked as they moved - "thank Obeah I didn't eat that cake" - she whispered her thoughts as if to herself - "though a flower of Obian nobility dying in a lift accident would make one hell of a story." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| The Solarium was the architectural marvel of the Holy Basilica of Rines. Placed at the pinnacle of the palatial building’s largest central tower, the Solarium was the highest room in southern Beluaterra. The room was only accessible by a long, wide, winding flight of steps that eventually reached a trap door, now open. Upon emerging, most visitors first notice the Solarium's ceiling and learn how this room got its name. It's ceiling and walls were a latticework of bronze-plated supports and pains of clear glass forming a dome over a room about the size of a dining hall and ringed by a circular balcony that afforded a better view of Rines to those that were brave enough to walk it. A low, comfortable couch sat atop a thick blue carpet set along the western edge sat facing the wooded hills of Athol Margos, poised to welcome the moonrise. Vases and hangings filled with exotic plants were spaced regularly throughout. Arcane symbols had been painted in intricate golden patterns across the stone floor. Today, the furniture that usually occupied the space was missing. In their place, in the very center of the room that was square stone bath filled salt water. The bath itself was large enough four three or even four people to enjoy comfortably, lilly plants bearing small scented candles at their center floated in the cool, clear water. Outside, the night was alight with stars and the rising crescent moon, if not for the lanterns that had been lit for the summit, visitors to the Solarium might get the impression that they were walking among those celestial bodies.
Tonight, was one such night. The crescent moon rose high over Rines, sailing through a sea of stars and islands of puffy clouds, bathing the white walls of City of Moonlight in with its gentle, cool radiance. Vahanian, satisfied that no dangers lurked in the shadows, took up a guard position with his paladins, arranging their backs to the sky as the selected spots that kept both the trapdoor and the Oracle in sight as she and the rest of the party filtered in. The Duke of Grehk took it upon himself to guide the nobles so they did not crowd what he assumed would be the Oracle’s workspace in the Solarium’s center. Stheno chatted with Kethan, holding the decrepit senior as though he my blow off into the stars at any moment. The quiet of the Solarium wad broken only by the occasional murmured conversation and the constant wailing of the sea winds as the Oracle prepared her spell. Along the Eastern-most edge of the Solarium stood an Alter of Obeah. Slabs of marble quarried from the mountains of Bym stacked one atop the other and chiseled with fine details, Heraldic symbols representing the moon, the veil, and magic decorated its top and the edges of each slab. Standing proud atop the altar was a statue of the Veiled Goddess herself, hands outstretched and palm up as if to hold something, her face hooded and unknowable, with fresh roses strewn around a bronze brazier at her feet. Rania reached and flicked her fingers along the runes. There was an audible click and a drawer appeared, inside it was filled end to end with scrolls set neatly in organized rows. Rania selected two: one appeared to be quite common, its vellum and markings appeared similar to many of the others save for the second scroll Rania selected. It was different, seeming somehow more substantial than all the rest. While all the scrolls appeared new as the day they were created, this one seemed…old somehow. Like a gift that had been left behind in a forgotten corner only to be rediscovered years later by its intended recipient. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Rania laid the Edict atop the altar and turned to face the assembled nobles. With a deep, calming breath, she fortified her resolve. She’d been preparing this ritual for months and her Will would need to be absolute, for nothing like what she as about to do had ever been attempted before. With a scroll in either hand, the Oracle turned and lifted her voice:
Obeah guide us. Obeah teach us. Obeah protect us. Obeah deliver us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours. When Keffa was new and daimons yet walked the world, her nascent group of followers needed something to draw Obeah’s Eye, and so Rania had taken this piece of her childhood and reworked it to suit. It was a simple catechism, the first in Obian Lore, and Rania’s expertly trained voice brought musical notes to the old prayer. She sang it, rather than spoke, with the cadence of a child’s game Rania had learned as a child in D’Hara. When finished, she placed the heftier scroll into the obian statue’s outstretched hand, where it fit and balanced perfectly. Then she placed the first, common scroll in the brazier and lifted her edict as she turned to face the assembled nobles. With a gesture, she indicated that Kethan should step into the arcane pool. “We will now begin” The Oracle said at last. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| As the Oracle began to sing her prayer in a sweeping contralto, Stheno’s young soprano rose with her. No one asked her to, and she didn’t expect to herself, but it just felt right. As her voice harmonized with her mothers, other singers joined in. Not everyone, the Paladins remained on duty, for example, but many of those who were present and not working followed suit so that by the time the short intonation ended, though it had started with a single voice, it had ended in a chorus! That thought stuck with Stheno as her mother gestured for Kethan to enter the pool. Stheno was excited, of course. She knew she was about to see her other at work, and that that meant magic! She also believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that her friend and protector would be made whole before night’s end. Her mother, nay, The Oracle, had so promised. Stheno had not left Kethan’s side since they’d arrived at the Basilica. He’d leaned on her the entire ride up the lift, and she was alarmed to find that it had nothing to do with his paternal affection for her. He was that weak. More than once, she thought he might slip off into unconsciousness, so weary did he seem. She’d talked to him, hoping to keep him awake by keeping him engaged as her eye swept the room looking for who might help her if he slipped. The former Grand Inquisitor was here, as was the Steward of Rines and of course the Duke of Grehk. There were others, of course, but those were physically closest to her. So when the Oracle ordered Kethan into the arcane pool before the altar, she looked to them to assist her with easing the old man to rest into the water…. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno was the second to find her voice behind her mother. Her young, powerful soprano soared through the air and a fierce look of pride shot through Vahanian, his eyes shone with approval and affection for his ward.
Her range awoke something deep within him, he found his resonance a deep, resonating baritone that mirrored his speaking voice, his own range was nothing to scoff at either as he matched Stheno in his lower register. He felt more than saw the Oracle's eyes shoot open as he found his pitch and she stared at him for a moment, be it amazement and wonder, or merely pride and affection that she sent his way via her gaze, Vahanian knew not, his eyes were closed for this moment, he was focused on the voices.
| |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura noticed the request in Stheno's gaze and with but a couple of steps she was at her side. She took Kethan's arm and upon what seemed like a groan had to remind herself that it is a sickly man she's handling, not what or who she usually lifts.
She slightly nodded at Stheno and said: "At your call, m'Lady..." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| While Rania prepared everything, Kethan kept his eyes closed and tried to rest a little bit leaning somewhat onto Stheno, who clinged onto him as if he was about to disappear at any moment. He listened to the sounds of both nature and man as the wind surrounded the Solarium and the gathered noblemen whispered and shifted their weight from one leg to the other. He knew the Solarium and its composition because Rania had taken him there and explained it to him, shortly after his arrival and after her offering to reside in the uppermost levels of the Basilica.
Stheno tried to keep her composure, excited about the procedure and worried about Kethan as she was. She tried her best to keep him awake and focused, but she could see that he was struggling quite a bit to remain alert, nearly dozing off every now and again. It was with the utmost care she shook him gently to encourage him to resist, after which he tried to look where he thought her face was, whispering softly. - "Stheno, I... I'm not feeling very well. I very much trust Lady Ran... your mother."- he stopped, struggling to breathe properly - "But if something... goes wrong, I very much want you to remember that the only thing I regret is not having been there for all these years." She complained again, refusing to even acknowledge the possibility of failure and hugging him gently, reminding him she was there for him and that she wouldn't let anything go wrong. - "It's just in case, my dear. And also in that slim chance... If anything happens, hold tight to Vahanian and your mother." - his blind eyes went to where he heard Vahanian, moving around to place everyone so that they couldn't disturb the ritual and the movement of the Oracle - "They love you very much, and you are precious to both of them. Enjoy their company and wisdom, and seek for a righteous man that is worthy of your hand. I bet Lord Blint will be happy to scrutinize everything about them for you." The click and ruffling of scrolls indicated the ritual was about to begin. Smiling one last time, Kethan softly squeezed Stheno's hand. - "To my recovery and your happiness, Stheno." When Rania's prayer began, Kethan tried his best to follow it in wheezing whispers, though his voice was completely surpassed by Rania's, Stneno's and Vahanian's, as well as the others participating in the chorus. Once it ended, Rania placed the scrolls in their appropriate positions and spoke simply and directly. - "We will now begin." At her call, Stheno looked around for assistance and found Maura's, who stepped in to help Kethan into the arcane pool. Not expecting her, Kethan could not avoid a groan when her strong grip grasped his arm, after which she immediately softened the pressure. - "At your call, m'Lady..." Kethan didn't feel ready, uneasy due to his lack of knowledge about Rania's chosen method, but he had complete trust in the Oracle and nodded twice to signify his acceptance. Understanding by the context what was about to happen, he could only hope that they would remove his outer garments before helping him into the pool, for they were heavy enough that, should they be sodden with water, he very much doubted he could stand on his feet. Handing his cane to Stheno, he held tight to both women, trying his best to stay calm and face the ritual with befitting dignity. - "I am prepared." | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno blinked back tears. She did not know what had caused Kethan to speak so morosely, but something in his regretful tone touched her deeply, forcing her to blink back tears. It sounded so…so final. She wanted to scold him more vehmently, she should have, but she stopped herself. She did not even wish to acknowledge what he’d said as a possibility. Rather than answer, she merely kissed his wrinkled, liver-spotted forehead as she rose. She nodded her thanks to Maura, still somewhat intimidated by the larger, more powerful woman. Together, the pair of them guided Kethan into the pool, clothes and all. It was cool at room temperature, but not shockingly so, and the even Kethan grew accustomed to it as the women lead him deeper. Their beautiful party dresses floated behind them as they brushed candlelillies aside and, with great care, lowered Kethan to a sitting position. The water reached up to his throat and he sighed, relieved at the weight the water removed from his care. Her mother had explained some of what was to happen, and so Stheno knew to exit the pool. She kissed Kethan on the brow before, holding his cane, she lifted one sodden leg out of the water, then the other. “Please” she said to Maura, indicating that the other woman should follow suit. She held out her hand to Maura. As she did, Maura’s eyes met her black and gold ones and Stheno could not block the sudden memory of the first time they’d met and Maura had very nearly stolen Stheno’s life not a meter from where they now stood. Unbidden, the thought came that she should withdraw and offer Maura no kindness. But she resisted the urge and resolutely left her hand out and available should the former Grand inquisitor need it. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| The gold of Stheno's irises sparkled as the younger lady held out her hand for assistance, Maura stared into those alien eyes, not quite capable to guess emotion or intent - a welcomed change from all the other eyes the trained Inquisitor ever stared into.
Maura took the offered hand and a flicker of smile enlightened her somber face. She would like to see it as a sign of forgiveness for what transpired the last time they met in this room but she felt she would be reading too much into the simple gesture of kindness. As she exited the pool, she clenched her jaws at the chill caused by soaked dress and the breeze from the balcony; then she clenched them even further at the reaction of some of the gathered nobles to their wet gowns mercilessly clinging to the very skin. She could only be thankful that the ascending daughter of the Oracle took the bulk of that attention. "Too big of an occasion for that..." - she thought and cleared her throat in a surprisingly threatening, practiced way. It worked, nigh immediately most of the attention was back at sir Kethan and the Oracle. Maura politely bowed to Stheno, utterin - "m'Lady" - and backed away to the side of the room. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian watched the events unfold, he could see his dear friend's frailty as plain as day and it shook him to his core. When he'd first met Kethan, the man had been wracked with illness but was still a titan, a man who commanded absolute loyalty and got it without question. He'd been, friend and mentor to Vahanian and now he was holding onto life by a mere thread.
He watched Stheno and Maura help him into the pool and saw the look and memory shudder through Stheno. He remembered the force of Maura's attack and how he had very nearly dueled her to death in this very room for her assault on Stheno. It would have been an undeserving death regardless of the outcome and he was eternally grateful it had not come to that. He couldn't suppress the instinct, the carnal urge to ready himself. With his left thumb he slid his sword from it's sheath by a mere centimeter, never taking his eyes from Stheno and Maura. He knew it was irrational, he knew there was no danger from his friend to his ward and yet he couldn't help himself. He hated it. He wished he could stop, irrationality had no place here, but he was unable to stop, it was visceral, carnal, and purely instinctual. Rania prepared her spells and Vahanian's right arm tingled. It always tingled when magic was near at hand, he remembered with vivid sensitivity the portal stones exploding in his hands and searing his arm, during the violet storm. His arm felt that same scorching feeling it always did and then it subsided. In his mind, his heart, and his body he felt something. Familiar presence. The touch he would recognize anywhere, the weight of the hand, the firmness of the grip, the slimness of the fingers and the power of the palm all in a simple, light touch. Everything about it was Rania. He'd felt that touch on his arm countless times, each time the message was the same. Each time it was her way of telling her ever protective friend, 'There is no danger here.' He could see The Oracle from the corner of his eye, he knew her hand was not actually on his arm, but he felt it's presence their all the same. At the same time, a voice, that voice that could halt a maelstrom, that voice that could melt glaciers and make him feel totally vulnerable despite his arms and armor. That voice that had the singular ability to make him stop, to make his heart flutter, and his stomach turn. Katerina. His beloved late wife. She'd died many years ago and had started him down the path that eventually led him here, to this moment. Her voice was in his mind, it simply said "Peace, my love. Peace." Vahanian made a valiant attempt and fending off the tears that welled in his eyes, unbidden. He contained them all but a single drop. A single tear streaked down his cheek and through his beard dropping from his facial hair onto his left hand. The weight of it was immeasurable and he felt himself react, he felt his hand relax and his sword return fully to it's sheath. His gaze never left Stheno and Maura, but he no longer felt the need to launch a preemptive attack against the lethal inquisitor. His place was here, to maintain the safety of the solarium, not to intervene, not yet. He watched Maura accept the hand offered and the two women climbed from the pool, as the exchange between them concluded, Vahanian felt himself fully relax, no longer on the same edge he'd been moments before. The breeze through the room chilled the air, he could only imagine the discomfort those two must be feeling. Their dresses clung to their bodies and accentuated their natural curves and features. Vahanian's eyes tracked Maura as she drifted to the side of the room, she caught his gaze and he gave her a slight nod to a desk against the wall she stood near, atop that desk - Vahanian had placed several thick fur cloaks. Weather Maura chose to don a cloak or not was her choice entirely, but Vahanian made the silent offer all the same. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus was stunned into silence by the beauty of the Solarium and then the statues he barely found his voice to join the Oracle in her prayer once it was done Kethan stepped forward and into the pool assisted by Stheno and Maura, Marcus stepped forward to assist them but stepped back, it was not his place, he began to feel as if he shouldn't be here as if something more was going on that everyone but him understood.
He closed his eyes and his lips moved in a silent prayer for the life and health Ketha D'Espana, Marcus had not known him long but from their brief interactions Marcus had become quite fond of the man, he seemed nice and Marcus took pity upon his injuries. He looked to the statue of Obeah and he found himself once again wondering what she looked like underneath her veil, very beautiful Marcus imagined, she had to be after all she was a goddess and most statues of Deities Marcus had seen made them look strong and handsome or slender and beautiful. He shook his head slightly and realised it mattered not, it's not like he would ever meet her, right? The Mission of the Obians was to bring her into reality to halt the daemonic invasions but surely such things are fables and tales told to children and played by bards and poets. Marcus had never seen magic before and until Marcus saw it he doubted it even existed, he had read and heard of Daimons and didn't doubt their existence but the power to summon a god, that was impossible as far as Marcus could tell. Marcus suddenly saw movement and this brought his attention back to reality, he saw Maura and Stheno leave the pool of water and Kethan stood in it, Marucs noticed the man seemed calm almost comfortable. Marcus heard the man's words and felt fear for a moment, meet his fate? Was he to die? Was Marcus standing death vigil? Marcus shook his head and though no, the Oracle must mean to do something fantastical if she can. And Marcus would be here and should she need him then he would be there for her, for all of them. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| He kept replaying the last few moments in his mind. He just asked Maura if she wanted to go for a stroll in the gardens. Before she could reply the Oracle had...graced them with her presence.
Alacrix had decided that he was not sulking. As he followed the Oracle and the others as they walked to the Solarium. He decided that being in the back did not mean he was sulking it just meant that he was acting as the rearguard for the group. Just in case there were assassins about. Once they were inside Alacrix still hung back. This time it really was to make sure there were no assassins. He really didn't know what was about to happen but he felt that it was important and that some here would be a bit distracted. So he took up a watchful vigil. Though every time he scanned the room subconsciously his gaze would linger a little longer on Maura. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Uncle Kethan is just being...dramatic. Stheno told herself as he sank deeper into the water. Stheno's own dress, the same one in which she'd danced so joyfully with Vahanian, was now soaked to her waist. Lady Maura dripped as well, but showed no outwards sign of discomfort as Kethan completed what sounded far too much like a goodbye. She wanted to scold him for the melodrama, he'd studied the Arcane so long that he seemed incapable of anything else, but it would have to wait as Rania strode forward, scroll-laden brazier swinging from a golden chain in one hand, her new Edict staff in the other.
Stheno couldn’t shake a feeling she’d had since noticing Kethan’s arrival back during the tournament. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, like a familiar fragrance made up of many forgotten scents. There was anxiety, or was it excitement? She was on edge, she knew that, and tried to remember the calming excerises Vahanian had taught her on the training mats. It worked, her breathing was even and her heart rate normal, but wisps of the feeling still remained, like fog refusing to be burned away. She decided it was her nerves after all. Maybe she was worried this wouldn’t work? That sounded closer to the mark, and her mother had said on more than one sermon that even a grain of doubt can ruin a great work of faith. What if her doubt caused the magic to fail? Then again, no one had believed in her mother or her Veiled Goddess in the beginning, and the Oracle had gone spell for spell with archdaimons. That had to be a more trying experience than this, right? Stheno released the breath she had not realized she was holding. Now that she was closer, Stheno could see that the scroll was one that was meant to summon the undead. She’d stumbled across many such scrolls in her time and suppressed a shudder as the Oracle opened it. Then she realized that Rania was…humming? She was…her notes discordant, yet her expression was intent, searching, as though seeking to harmonize with an unheard melody As the Oracle’s tune wound around the chamber, the arcane runes on the scroll’s surface began to glow… | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Rania was pleased.
She'd made the study of magic her life, in Obeah's name, and rarely encountered a worthy opportunity to but the results of that effort on display as she hummed her aimless tune. For her, magic was like music. Every scroll, sage, enchanted weapon, even monsters, all of them vibrated with their own unique magical tones, and Rania had learned to use her voice in tune with her magical intuition, granted by many years of casting many spells, to map those vibrations as a blind man might use his cane to map out the trappings of a room. Signing the prayer had merely been a warmup. When she unwrapped the scroll and began to read, an invisible spark jolted from the vellum, forming a link with her that only she could perceive. The perception of magic, she'd learned, was unique for everyone. People naturally saw, related to, and interpreted its energy differently, not unlike how warriors from different groups or nations might have various styles or theories on fighting. All were valid, and more or less effective tools. For Rania, her tool was her voice, it had been ever since she'd discovered the affinity within her long ago on the day her daughter had been born... Rania began and the bottom of her range, mentally probing the scroll to unlock the harmony within. It was a simple matter for her, as summoning undead was an unfortuantely-simple spell. She'd chosen it precisely for its simplicity. As she hummed its activation, she set the scroll alight, burning it. Instead of ash, sparkles of power rose from it on the updrafts of the fire like twinkles of starlight. This was not Rania's power, or Obeah's but the magic of whatever witch or mystic had first crafted the loathsome scroll. Shining as they did, the magical motes seemed harmless, indifferent, even pretty. From what Rania knew and taught of magic, all mana, or arcane energy, was essentially neutral. Like a sword, it could be put to use for both good and evil. And, like a sword, was inert without a powerful will to wield it. Rania was no sage mystic, she lacked the immense skill required to actually craft even the most common of scrolls, but she had learned how to reverse engineer them, at least in a manner of speaking. As the mana released from the scroll, activated but aimless, Rania caught as many as she could with her bare hand, then pressed them to the rough-hewn sapphire gemstone that capped her Edict. As she did, her melody changed, growing louder, though still wordless as she shifted the ritual form of her spell. instead of using the link she'd established to complete the spell's activation, she instead redirected as much of its power as she could into the stone. Many of the little twinkles slipped through her fingers and winked out, angling like meteorites from her grasp and disappearing through the stone of the floor into the city below. Rania sighed as she noticed, there would be undead moaning through the catacombs this night, but only a few and nothing that her 'pets' couldnt handle, she reminded herself as the stone began to glow. It pulsed blue with power, beating like Obeah's own heart, and Rania smiled as she reversed the staff to angle top-down toward the floating Kethan. Her hum had grown into a full blown crescendo, her well-trained orator's voice sweeping in cascading whirl as she plunged the Edict's power-loaded sapphire into the water. The candlilies bloomed with life energy as the water itself began to glow with a calm, blue-tinged white, enveloping Kethan from head to toe for a glorious moment and he gasped with sensation as her spell went to work. Rania had spent many long hours and desperate experiments to create this spellform. Kethan's affliction was magical in nature, but somehow rooted to his physical body. So, Rania had determined that the best way to beat it would be to reverse his physical age and hope that would unhook whatever curse he was suffering under. A Fountain of youth scroll might have worked for the purpose, but her cousin the Phoenix Queen had used the only one Rania had ever heard of, and even if she hadn't that had been on the East continent, and for all the Oracle's influence and servants on Beluaterra, not one of them had found one for her, and so she'd had to become....creative, resulting in this spell. Kethan gasped as the magic enveloped him. But this was Rania's magic now, and its warmth would do no harm. Slowly, wrinkles and liver spots began to fade, but too soon, the glow diminished as the magic was used up. What youth he had regained slowly slipped away from him as the spell died. The scroll of undead, it seemed, was too weak after all... With a determined expression, Rania turned for the second mysterious scroll... | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| At first Marcus had his doubts, Marcus knew the goal of the Heralds was to use magic to bring Obeah into this world, but was magic truly real, he thought not but as he stood there in the light of the rising moon and the light of the magic the Oracle cast, Marcus knew, he was wrong.
The Oracle sung beautifully but there was a power behind her voice, the scroll the Oracle had sparked and glued and soon her Edict staff glowed blue with a great power, not great enough it would seem as after the Oracle plunged the staff into the water and its power engulfed Kethan, he seemed younger for a second but he quickly reverted back to the older man Marcus had known for a few hours, the Oracle then turned to pickup a new scroll, the second one Marcus had spied when the Oracle picked a few up. Marcus wondered for a moment, would he ever cast magic? most likely not but perhaps after this was over he could ask the Oracle to teach him. | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| “Hmm, I need more power” Rania mused aloud. Though she was speaking to herself, lost in the haze of an artist at work, her words were audible enough, at least to her own ears. Unlike others now gawking at her latest failure. Lesson, she chided herself mentally. There were no failures, only lessons. And This one had taught her that the claws of Kethan’s affliction sank deeper than she realized.
Magic was the true treasure and might of the Sacred Realm, highly prized, and scrolls themselves were…tethered to their owners. A single caster could only hold so many on their person at a time, lest the conflicting magics of their presence combine to cause spontaneous reactions that set the scrolls off without any attention, or control, by the caster. As Oracle, Rania had been collecting scrolls for many years and was often forced to pass them along to her underpriests. It was safer that way, for the continued safety of the people of Rines. Unfortunately, what it meant is that she had few scrolls on hand to be sacrificed in the manner she had. Rania’s lips formed a thin, determined line on her face as she hefted the other scroll and made to repeat the experiment. Her eyes caught Stheno’s for just a moment. This has already gone on too long, damn the risks…She thought, both of the ceremony and of the long-suffering Kethan as brandished the scroll she’d hoped she wouldn’t have to use… | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| Stheno saw the look in her mother’s eye as theirs met. The hungriness she saw their chilled her, but it wasn’t until her mother brought the scroll closer that Stheno’s back went rigid. The others might not recognize the item in the Oracle’s hand, but she’d did. A Scroll of Miracle…. very old and very powerful. So much so that no one quite knew what it did, or even how to use it. Stheno’s heart began to hammer, playing a staccato beat against her ribcage as her anxiety spiked. The hair along her forearms and the back of her neck stood on end as the Oracle began to hum… | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus saw something in the Oracle's eyes as her eyes and the keys of her daughter locked, the Oracle with a new scroll in hand began to hum, something wasn't right, Marcus felt in in the very fibre of his being, something was not right | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| While Kethan rested in the water and once Maura and Stheno had vacated the pool, Rania began to hum. The first scroll she had chosen, capable of summoning undead, began to glow as she started the ritual to unleash its power. However, instead of allowing its magic to operate normally, she began capturing some of the magical energies unleashed and concentrating them on the stone of her staff. Pulsating blue with power, her hums directed the stored arcane force to the water, and Kethan gasped audibly as the blue-tinged white glow enveloped him and everything within the pond. He felt... renewed. Fresh, young, made whole again. He could practically feel decades of abuse and degeneration being lifted off his shoulders, leaving him reluctantly as Rania's magic pushed them away as a mother shoves the pains of the day away from her child with a gentle kiss on the wound.
It was... fantastic. But sadly, it was not to last. An unknown amount of time that felt way too short to him later, it was all gone. The sudden return of his usual aches was more cruel and demolishing after having felt their absence, even if only for a few seconds, and a growing hopelessness settled in his heart. Hearing Rania shuffling a new scroll, he began to calm himself as he understood that it was far from over, And simply repositioned himself a little so as to endure the next attempt of the Oracle. - "Hmm, I need more power”. Rania’s lips formed a thin, determined line on her face as she hefted the other scroll and made to repeat the experiment. Her eyes caught Stheno’s for just a moment, and the daughter went rigid as she recognized the scroll that her mother was about to unleash. A Scroll of Miracle…. very old and very powerful. So much so that no one quite knew what it did, or even how to use it. When the Oracle began to hum once again, Kethan closed his eyes and, breathing heavily, waited for what was inevitably coming. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Rania sang her spellwork once again as she prepared to make use of the miracle scroll. To the best of her knowledge, none could even read its arcane words, much less use them, and appropriating the power within had never before been attempted. Still, after the failure of the previous scroll, and the brevity of its effects, she knew now that no lesser scroll would do. To save her friend, to enact a true miracle worthy of the mystics, she needed a miracle. Having spent long hours in meditative contemplation and prayer over the preceding months, seeking the guidance of her patron, Rania had come into possession of the scroll of miracle, and in it, she perceived the hand of Obeah. This was the answer to her prayers.
Outwardly, it appeared little different from any of the other scrolls she’d handled in the past. It was more substantial though, seeming fuller, heavier than what she was accustomed to. In her current state, effused with the ebbing energies of her previous attempt, she could sense the power emanating in pulsing waves from the scroll. Power that all but dwarfed the others, as if the Titans themselves had been bound up in its mysterious depths. Sedentary and as beautiful to her as fresh snow atop a mountain. At that thought, however, her expression darkened as she considered what all that snow might do to her if it came all at once. The resulting avalanche would surely claim her life, at least, and perhaps all those in the Solarium. For a spellcaster of lesser skill, the task would be inconceivable. Not so for the Oracle of Obeah. Rania had gone spell for spell against an archdaimon, she been the vessel for the power of a god, albeit briefly. She had cast nearly every sort of spell in existence. Despite the risk, she was more than confident of her capabilities. Rania’s song rose in pitch as she prepared to siphon ritual. With a crescendo, she lit a side of the scroll, and for a brief moment, her vision turned white as thunder shook the Solarium… | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| At first, Stheno did not realize what had happened. Everything had gone white, there was an explosive whomp that had hurled her from her feet. Her ears rang with the force of it. For a brief eternity, all she could hear was the whine of her assaulted eardrums, all she could see was white. As Stheno groaned and began to sit up, wincing at unexpected pain. She’d realized her head had struck the floor hard enough to daze her. She felt with her fingers, grimacing as she found the cut above her right temple. Her hearing was first to recover. Shouts of alarm and pained groans were the first sounds she recognized. Beneath those was a crackling, bubbling sound she couldn’t readily identify. She rolled over, bringing herself to her hands and knees and focused on getting one foot under her, then another, her vision slowly resolving as she did so. The first thing she saw was the floor, then her hands on her knees. She blinked her black-gold eyes rapidly, clearing her vision and breathing heavily as adrenaline coursing through her. Her head was still throbbing from the impact, and she was careful as she lifted her head, and cried out at the sight that greeted her.
“MOM!” The Oracle of Obeah was sheathed in crackling power, her face a rictus of suffering as eldritch energies lightninged through and around her in arcs of white-hot fury. She’d plunged her Edict into the water just above Kethan’s head, and Stheno gasped as she realized it hadn’t been a bubbling she’d heard, but a boiling! Steam hissed from the pool. Candlelillies burned or floated as ravaged husks. Kethan screamed, his skin was glowing, despite the blast, the spell was working! But Stheno’s relief was short lived as she looked at the Oracle more closely. All of Rania’s visible muscles stood taught, her chest was heaving and her body shuddered with mana that coruscated from her toes to her brow, down her staff and into the pool. Sweat poured from her brow, only to evaporate near-instantly. She was bleeding, her wounds evident as spots and rivults of red stained her white robes. Stheno cried out again and in greater alarm as she saw the burns. Lightning snapped around the Oracle, caressing her like a brutal lover, burning her where it touched. Stheno saw that the scroll was entirely vanished, and the large, rough-hewn sapphire that had once crowned the Oracle’s Edict was gone with it, shattered to pieces. Stheno gasped as realization dawned on her. Even the massive gemstone couldn’t contain the power of the scroll. It must have burst, which explained the force that had bowled Stheno over. With no where to go, what hadn’t bled away into the either had instead rebounded on the Oracle, and she was taking the full force of it on her own. Mere seconds had passed since the casting had begun. Stheno was the first of the assembly to get back to her feet and recognize what had happened. Without another thought, she ran toward her mother, if she could just grip her mother’s Edict, share the burden, then maybe…but she skidded to a stop as lightning lashed at the stone before her feet. She looked up, and saw that Rania was looking right at her, tears in her face as she struggled to contain the mighty force she had unleashed. Everything was in the Oracle’s eyes: her love, her pain, her determination, her fear. It was all plain to Stheno, and all of it said STAY AWAY. The Oracle closed her eyes then, resigning herself to her task and, it seemed to Stheno, her fate. The scent of burning hair and boiling flesh assaulted her nostrils, and Stheno was given the barest insight into the future. It was just the briefest flash, but it had been enough. The Oracle of Obeah would die here, now, right in front of her. Her mother would be burned alive, and the man that had been a father to her would boil and drown, claimed by the uncontrolled power of the scroll of miracle. In an instant, everything, everything would be undone and no earthly power would stop that now. No earthly power...the thought rolled around Stheno’s mind like an unending echo, a lighthouse’s spark of hope piercing the storm of despair. She could not get to the Oracle, her mother would not risk Stheno sharing in her fate. Nor could Stheno draw Kethan from the boiling pool, lest she burn and drown herself. But Stheno was not helpless. She was her mother’s daughter. She knelt and withdrew the Portal Stones from hidden pouches about her person… | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| For years, the Oracle of Obeah had made public her desire to obtain and study portal stones. Every adventurer from Holy Rines to Shattered Fhuevenam knew this well. Nevertheless, even through her pain and concentration, Rania felt surprise as her daughter knelt and began to arrange them. Stheno had mentioned nothing of the sort, and Rania groaned in very real pain as she understood. They were surely meant to have been a surprise birthday gift, and as Rania watched her daughter worked, pride mingled with despair. Stheno’s movement were quick, confident, and intuitive. She was feeling the magic of the stones, they were speaking to her, in their way, telling her where to place what as she worked, a trick the girl had learned at her mother’s knee during the Violet Calamity. She wanted, more than anything, to tell her daughter to run, to flee, to stop and make herself safe, but it was all she could do to remain upright. If she faltered now, if she allowed her mind to splinter further, she would lose the spell and, she had no doubt, the lives of everyone in this room. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t warn her daughter, couldn’t coach her, couldn’t tell her how much she loved her.
Then she heard a voice. One she thought she recognized, and her despair magnified a hundredfold. It is time. The Oracle of Obeah managed to shriek. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| The stones were speaking to her now. She’d done just as her mother had shown her. She opened herself to them, she hummed, as if trying to harmonize with a melody only she could sense, just as her mother had taught her, and focused her will upon the stones. She appeared to move at random, placing them at odd intervals resembling more a constellation rather than the circle her mother had arranged them in when she’d used such stones before. But somehow the irregular pattern, if it could be called that, felt more right to Stheno as she called upon them. She lost herself in her work, closing her mind to everything but the stones themselves, leaning close to them as though that might improve her hearing. Pain focused her. Fear focused her. Love focused her, and she wished with all her heart to save the people she loved.
Then, she was somewhere else… There was no transition, no dramatic flair. One moment she’d been in the Solarium, torn asunder by bursts of uncontrolled magic, then…nothing. All was quiet, and Stheno raised her head. As far as she could see, there was nothing. No room, no stone, no people, just an endless expanse of grey, tinged with pretty purples and pinks along what she assumed was the horizon line, but there was no sun, no true sky, just…grey. Stheno stood, somewhat surprised to find that her head still hurt, even in…whatever this place was. She reached up and found that she was still bleeding from the head wound. She looked down, she was still wearing the dress she’d worn to the Oracle’s Birthday, and the portal stones were still arranged at her feet. She leapt back in a yell. The stones were glowing. Not only that, but bright traces of power now linked them in an unfamiliar symbol that pulsed like a heartbeat. With a start, Stheno realized it was in time with her heartbeat. “What is this?” She said allowed, more challenge in her voice than wonder. She was scared, she was confused, but she hadn’t forgotten what she’d been doing. “Whatever this is, Send me back!” OH DEAR, ARE YOU QUITE SURE? A voice roared from everywhere and nowhere at once. Despite the innocent words, the power with which they were delivered brought Stheno to her knees, clutching at her head, screaming. The roar seemed to last forever. Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Oh dear, sorry about that, child. Stheno simply whimpered, gasping for breath. Oh dear, was sorry not enough? Your mortal faculties will return in time. “I…who is this?” Stheno demanded. Oh dear, who? Who is but the form following the function of what and what this is is an answer to your prayers, dear child. The voice seemed amused. “What? I…I don’t understand. My head…” Oh dear…Didn’t you wish, with all your heart and soul, for a way to save your mother? Clarity returned to Stheno in a cold rush. “Yes” she said simply. Her voice was small, pained but clear. “But how did you-“ Oh dear…your thoughts are free for all to see, there are no secrets here, child. The voice continued. Now, This is the part where you make your offer. “Offer?” Stheno looked down and around at all the nothing. “Offer what?” Oh dear, the voice responded, your actions thus far were merely enough to gain notice. More is needed to gain your hearts desire. Stheno sensed..something…and a vision appeared before her. It was her vision, the glimpse of the future. Everything was burning. Everyone was dead. “Stop it!” Stheno cried, unable to bear the horrible sight. “Stop it, stop it please!” The presence seemed to shrug as the image vanished. Oh dear…you needn’t shout, your soulthoughts are loud and clear. These deaths…something you wish to avert, no? | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Stheno | |
| “Yes.” Stheno managed through the gritted teeth. “Yes” she said again, more loudly, and sensed approval.
Oh dear…then what will you give in exchange, hmm? Stheno pondered this. She wished she were dreaming, but even her nightmares couldn’t have come up with this scenario. She felt panic rising in her mind, and knew two things with abrupt certainty: If she failed to gain the help she sought, all would be lost. And if she offended…whatever the voice was, the end result would be the same. But what did she have? She had nothing of value to give, not to the voice, not to anyone. All she had was the now-ruined dress she wore. Oh dear…you have SO much more than that. Perhaps it should simply be taken. You’re not using it are you? … Stheno didn’t know how she knew, but she felt a presence reaching for her and her panic blossomed. “Back off!” She growled, centering herself for a fight just as Vahanian had taught her. The presence was still encroaching. “I SAID BACK OFF!” Stheno screamed, and the diffuse light went dark around her for a moment, golden light radiating from her as she poured all her helplessness and fury out. Oh dear…so you are using it afterall. Would you give yourself willingly in order to spare their lives? There was no deception in the voice, just a n easy, curious confidence, and Stheno knew deep down in her soul that nothing would ever be the same no matter what she answered. “All of them?” She asked, and her voice was resigned, and she felt the presence’s affirmation vibrating through the either around her. Stheno, the girl that had run away from home to live a life of adventure, hunting thins, saving people, who had risked herself for the greater good time and time again already knew how she would answer. She was her mother’s daughter. Oh dear…you must say the words aloud, you know. And the words appeared in her mind. Stheno did not hesitate “I give myself freely, willfully, and without reservation in exchange for that which I seek. Make so my wish, and I relinquish my fate.” She closed her black-gold eyes and saw no more. | |
| Stheno | |
| Roleplay from Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Overcome, Rania's legs collapsed beneath her, crunching into glass and blood. Someone moaned. It was hoarse, and low. It was a dull, aching, clawing noise, a wail to shame the fierce moaning of the wind as it tore through the shattered remnants of the glasswork. Tears mixed with blood from her wounds, twisting in small rivulets down her face to mix with sweat and still more blood. Alone in her thoughts, Rania reached to clutch her baby, Her Stheno. She was still warm, her hair smelled of candlelly and wine. The Oracle refused to acknowledge the stenching wreak of magic not of this world. She cried, and she cried, rocking and wailing, muscle's taught and locking up as she lost consciousness.
The others in the room would soon come to their senses, and discuss amongst themselves what they had seen, and what to do thence in the immediate future. For many days thereafter, the Oracle would sleep. When she woke, she woke alone. And when she at last returned to preside of her court and the Faith she shepherded, she seemed unchanged in her letters, her policies, or her resolve. But the name of her daughter was never again to be discussed in her presence. It was not an express command, but something felt. Something known and, fer her sake, respected. But to those that knew her, the loss of it, the pain of loosing her only child...it was plain to see. To say that these were dark times in the personal life of the Oracle, would be to say that the great seas were merely deep. | |
| Rania Eastersand JeVondair | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| Kethan, though discouraged from the failure of the first attempt, was nevertheless prepared for further experiments, since he very much guessed the ritual was far from over. What happened next, however, was something that no amount of mental fortitude would have been able to apathetically withstand. The very second the Scroll of Miracle was lit, a white flash and a powerful thunder rolled through the Solarium, shaking most assistants to the ritual off their feet and leaving them blind and deaf for some very long seconds.
Kethan, weak and frail, never had any chance against that. The shockwave immediately submerged him underwater, though he managed to somehow get his head above the water after some terrifying moments of panic and mindless bracing to regain his feet. When he gasped for air again, his ringing ears started picking shouts of alarm and pained groans, some of which were undoubtedly his. He was about to try to exit the pool when the water violently hissed and began to boil, leaving him no possible opening to get out before the scalding liquid knocked him off again into the pond. It burnt, so, so hot, more painful and stabbing than anything else he had felt in his entire life. He had made peace with the idea of death many times than he cared to count, but going away in a giant stewpot was very much unlike any passing he could have had ever imagined. Completely lost in the agonizing pain, he missed everything happening outside: Stheno trying to help the Oracle, Rania sheated in crackling power, the unbridled magic torrent that she was trying her best to contain, everyone taking cover to escape the lethal arcs of white energy. It was all lost to him, screaming out his lungs in agony and uncapable of focusing on anything else. Strangely enough, death did not come for him that day. He was being boiled alive, yes, but Rania's magic was indeed present in the water, and it was restoring and healing him just as quick, if not quicker, than the water could burn through his glowing skin. The pain was no less real, but the scroll was working alright, at least in regards to his treatment. It was in this moment when Stheno realized she could not just sit idle and let both her mother and her former tutor die, if not everybody else as well. She acted quickly, placing the portal stones according to her own tune, to her own perception of the magic within. The stones Stheno set began to glow, beginning blue but then rapidly shifting from blue to red. All the while, a high-pitched whine growed louder and louder, and the monstruous amount of eldritch energy was swiftly released, a gigantic explosion taking out the entirety of the glass pannels of the Solarium and knocking everyone unconscious for a little while. Though unconscious might be a somewhat of an understatement for some... | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| Darkness. Calm. Peace. Quiet.
Darkness. When Kethan opened his eyes, he immediately knew that something strange was happening. There was nothing to be seen, though this time he knew that his eyes were not the ones to blame. Nothing to be heard, not even the crackle of ailing bones he had grown so accustomed to. Nothing to be felt, no water, no wind. No pain. But that strange feeling was not to last, for suddenly a ghostly glow began filling the entire space around Kethan. Perhaps speaking of ups or downs would be a little redundant in that place, but he had no time to evaluate his situation before that ghostly glow began converging in the space immadiately adjacent to his body. The ghostly glow, suddenly turning a very particular tone of blue, conformed a humanoid shape in front of the dumbfounded eyes of Kethan. No, it was not humanoid. It was human, a woman in fact, dressed in a thin simple tunic and wearing a vaporous veil that hid most of her facial features. Her figure was not complete, for particularly the area below her waist seemed to be diffused into the blue arcane currents that were soothingly blowing throughout the entire space, but he didn't need more to take a guess at what was the entity standing before him. - "You... You are..." He stopped himself, for he instinctively knew that words were completely unnecesary here. The entity seemed expectant, as if she was trying to tell Kethan something extremely important. Unfortunately, she was apparently interrupted by a golden flash in the distance, followed by the roll of a thunder a long distance away. Before she could continue, a true golden thunderstorm had erupted in the horizon, lightning falling at short regular intervals with the accompanying thunderous echo. The entity observed the peculiar natural phenomenon, completely ignoring Kethan for the entirety of its duration. It wasn't until the brief thunderstorm was gone that the entity paid any attention to Kethan again. She seemed pleased for an unknown reason, and turned her head in his direction perhaps a little too fast, one of the links of the veil slipping out of its position. With a sudden feeling of intense dread, Kethan watched mesmerized as the veil started to drop, slowly uncovering what was hidden behind. - "It is time." The scream that woke him up from his semi-lucid dream was most probably his own. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| Protected by the lid of the pool, both Kethan and Rania (who had fallen there after the explosion) were left relatively unharmed, only minor cuts and bruises to be accounted for. The rest of the witnesses had varying degrees of luck, some being struck harder than others.
But no one was struck harder than Stheno. Rania woke up before him, discovering the gruesome scene of the destroyed Solarium, blood drawings and spills everywhere and, most tragically, the smiling body of her dead daughter. When Kethan woke up as well, completely covered in sweat, the Oracle was already embracing the still corpse of his former pupil, rocking back and forth as she emptied her tears over her just acknowledged heir. Just a few hours ago, Kethan would have joined her, crying and crying until no more tears could be shed while letting others handle the disaster. However, he was not that man anymore. Stheno had given her life to save him and Rania had almost paid with hers to heal him, and it had worked. He could feel the strength, the vigor, the mental swifness long lost to the progress of his ailment. Many wrinkles and no small part of the damage was still there, yes, but the pain and the rest of the curse had been lifted, and so he was able to act again as a whole man. He stood up, tears running wildly down his cheeks and his heart breaking inside his chest. He would mourn, but not yet. Many things had to be taken first. His eyes searched for Vahanian, and he found him closer than he had expected, already taking in what had happened and deciding what to do after that. Knowing just how hard this would have to be for his friend, Kethan walked towards his old friend and put his hand on his shoulder to try and regain his attention, formalities completely forgotten. - "Vahanian, we need to carry Lady Rania to her Royal apartments in the Basilica. Stheno..." - he was breathing heavily, his throat choked by pain, anger and impotence - "W-we will have to... Oh, sweet embrace of Obeah, give us the strength we need for this... Vahanian, I need you. I do not know these people..." - he waved at Marcus, Maura and Alacrix, as well as any others in the room at the time - "...nearly as well as you do. Tell them what do you need them to do and help me take Rania to a safe place. One will have to guard her there and the other will take care of..." - he was unable to complete the sentence, though the extremely guilty look he directed towards Stheno's corpse made any further words redundant. | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix watched transfixed as the Oracle began to cast her spell. He remembered when he first came to Rines to be a noble he wanted nothing more than to learn how to perform magic. After a decade he had yet to cast a single spell. Well on purpose, he thought. There was that one time when he had to many scrolls and one might have gone off. But that was old news and he never counted it as being a spell he casted.
Even though he only knew a little about rituals he had a sense this was going...ok. He noticed the Oracle pulling out another scroll. This one seemed to radiate such power that even Alacrix could not ignore it. Everything became different. Energy began to crackle then corse throughout the Oracle's body. The pool began to boil. Alacrix could not begin to compare the magical forces at play but he knew this was not good. Alacrix sought out Maura. He knew one thing Maura might know what was going on. If she didn't then at least I will be with her if we die, he could help keep the thought from his mind. Just then multicolored arcs of energy began to streak across the Solarium. He had time to look over and see Maura before the explosion hit him and then the darkness came. He awoke to find Maura. Relief washed over him when he saw her stirring. Then heard a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life. It was the sound of someone wailing but not just anyone. It was the Oracle. Alacrix thought the woman could not be shaken. He thought her so in control that she would never show an ounce of emotion, unless it was her plan to. Now he saw her cradling the body of her child. One that he was introduced to only moments ago. Dumbfounded and not really knowing how to act he looked to Vahanian. He remembered seeing him dance with her in the hall. He must be in so much pain right now. What can I even do for them? I have never known loss this great, nor love that deep. These thoughts raced through his mind. The only thing he could think of was to help Maura up and then brace for what was to come. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Familiar tickles of eldritch energy preceded the magical explosion that obliterated the Solarium and left most of the present nobles unconscious.
A mind rising from slumber perceives time differently, of which Maura was acutely aware, and so she took the sweet drawn-out seconds of awakening to recall her observations at the instant of the calamity. It reminded her of a dead theatre the Earl used to play with her - the memory was a three dimensional painting of mummers frozen in time. All of them she knew, some well, like Vahanian and Alacrix, some briefly, like Kethan and Marcus. She walked among them, frozen on the stage of a single point in time, she investigated the scene, leisurely walking from one to another through her hazy mindscape. She first approached herself, her eyes wide open, transfixed at a crack in a portal stone. Her fist clutching the air where a scimtar ought to be. "You don't have it, silly, and even if - are you going to swordfight a damn destiny?" There was the crowd of nobles at the other side of Solarium, most of them amazed and oblivious to what was about to transpire, some of them rightly alarmed, few knowledgeable ones terrified. Among the crowd there was a pair of eyes staring not at the ritual but elsewhere, in fact... they were looking precisely at the frozen version of her, and what a look it was. "Oh boy" - she walked over to the motionless memory of Alacrix and tenderly caressed his face - "I should be so lucky." Then there was the center of attention: the Oracle struggling against unfamiliar, ancient magic over Kethan's form and Stheno entranced by the portal stones. The use of portal magic was foolish. Maura approached the effigy of Stheno, clearly annoyed - "what are you doing, girl?! Your mother struggles, yes, but she needs no help, no portal stones, especially not aether-tained ones. Have you forgot where we are? This is Obia'Syela - Obeah's Haven. It is the Veiled Goddess' domain and no harm will come to her Oracle here, you should know bette..." - Maura was immediately taken aback when she noticed the alien eyes she was so fascinated by were no longer unreadable. There was intent in them, sparkling emotions, glints of conviction reaching beyond even the gravity of the Oracle's ritual... far beyond. The Inquisitor began reading into them and was lost in it for what felt like eternity. One by one she was deciphering the riddles. She found fear - it was easy, the first one to notice, the closest to surface. Like a wave after a tide came anger, but this one was lackluster like a lie told en passant even though everyone knows the truth. Why would that even... Despair. That's it. Anger is lackluster when it's only there to cope with a bottomless despair. No, that's not quite right, the tightly pressed lips are heralds of determination. There might've been a memory of despair, but it's presence is a stormy water and the golden sea of those eyes is as serene as a dead monk on a driftwood. Only one shape of mind reeks of despair, calm intent and at the same time... victory? "Oh no, Stheno... what are you about to do?! You foolish girl, what are you..." - when Maura grabbed the recollection of Stheno by the arms it disappeared into an ominously purple smoke and so did the entire mindscape of her memory. A screech of a vitreous heart shattering into a thousand pieces awoke her. She needn't look, she knew who it belonged to and what caused it. She heard panicked words from many mouths, all of which could be summarized as "we need to do something!" A sad smirk cracked her otherwise motionless face. Maura only ever loved one person on the entire world and she let her die a long time ago, it took her over a decade to get from there to here and if she ever knew anything it was the fact that the noise was pointless, "we need to do someth..." THERE'S NOTHING you can do. Nothing. She felt a hand on her shoulder, both tough and gentle. Before she even looked up she already knew she was talking to Alacrix - "let's go, Al... let's get out of here." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Reaching down he grasped Maura's shoulders. Please be alright, he thought. When he turned her over he saw a small sad smile on her face.
"let's go, Al... let's get out of here." "Alright Maura." He said softly. He gently helped her to her feet and tried to support her in a way that didn't make it look like she was being supported. In that moment he was lost in a storm of conflicting emotions. He felt such elation because Maura had called him Al...but he felt such sorrow at seeing what had happened to the Oracle. "I know of a quite place that we can take a moment to think." With that he gently guided her along the path ways to Holy Basilica. He took care to take the back ways to avoid running into people. There he led her down pathways to place he had created years before. Back when he ran the estate of the Holy Basilica. There was a small pool of calm water. It was hidden from site by a row of bushes and trees. Surrounding the pool were flowers of all sorts. The flowers were chosen to not only for their beauty but also for their aroma. The place was meant to calm ones soul. He had visited this place after every major battle he had fought while he managed the estate. Alacrix gently set Maura down on on the small bench. He looked into her eyes. "I have wanted to have shown you this place since you came back. I tried to show it to you before what happened." He paused, briefly glancing away from Maura's eyes gazing on the garden he had created, losing himself for a moment to the grief he had seen. "I use to come here after every battle to try and find peace. I hope it will help now...If you want to talk I will listen...if you don't will stay quite. And if you want to be alone I will go. But I think for the moment...for a few precious moments we should stay and try to find a rare moment of peace." With all his courage he looked back into Maura's eyes. He tried to tell her in that look that this was a safe place and that he was here for her. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Vahanian stood his ground during the initial shockwave of the spell Rania was working, but barely. He was dazed, confused, and on high alert. Hand on hilt he scanned the room and identified everything. "Rania, Stheno. - Protect." His instincts screamed at him. *MOVE. ACT. DO. SOMETHING.* But he was rooted to the spot. The Oracle flickered a glance at him and it was more than enough. She stared down at Stheno and the look spoke volumes between mother and daughter.
Stheno arranged the portal stones and activated the magic. Vahanian was thrown from his feet, he felt his shoulder pop from it's socket and ribs crack. A shard of stone scored his face nearly taking his left eye. He would eventually regain full use of the eye, but the scar would not vanish with time. When he awoke he saw Stheno crumple to the ground, her body utterly lifeless and motionless, a small smile on her face. Vahanian had seen enough death to know her fate. Emotion came unbidden and unbound, it was the pure essence of raw grief. A scream elicited itself from his throat, a sound no-one in this room had ever heard from Vahanian. He moved as well and as quickly as his body would allow to Rania, he checked her pulse, it was there, but faint, she cradled Stheno's head in her lap and was barely moving, unconscious. Vahanian was overcome, he'd raised Stheno since she was very small. He'd spent countless hours with her, teaching her riding, hunting, tracking, archery, sword-play. Every fighting style Vahanian knew. It wasn't enough. He wasn't enough. He'd lost his wife many years ago to Daimons and it had nearly killed him, Stheno had brought him back. Caring for her had brought him back from the darkness. He was at a loss, for words, for thoughts, for feelings, for everything. He kept thinking she was going to raise her head, crack a smile and pass out again. That she was going to start breathing, and that Vahanian and Rania would spend the next several months worrying and reprimanding her. He wished, begged, pleaded for that to happen. He screamed in his soul for her to wake. But his heart knew the truth. Kethan put a hand on his shoulder and said "Vahanian, we need to carry Lady Rania to her Royal apartments in the Basilica. Stheno..." Vahanian barely felt it, barely heard it. He choked back a sob and felt pain lance through his chest. Kethan was firm but gentle, "W-we will have to... Oh, sweet embrace of Obeah, give us the strength we need for this... Vahanian, I need you. I do not know these people..." - he waved at Marcus, Maura and Alacrix, as well as any others in the room at the time - "...nearly as well as you do. Tell them what do you need them to do and help me take Rania to a safe place. One will have to guard her there and the other will take care of..." Vahanian came to himself and took charge, he nodded to Maura and Alacrix as they silently made their exit, Maura sent a look to Vahanian but Vahanian lacked the strength to receive it right now. Vahanian checked Marcus's pulse as well. The young steward was alive, but unconscious. His injuries were largely minor, not a priority right now. Vahanian summoned the paladins, as they entered the room they immediately formed a phalanx around mother and daughter. Vahanian in a crackling, scratchy voice said "Kethan, they will help you with Rania. Please be careful with her, she sustained a great deal of magic. Sth -" He couldn't form the words, Kethan put and arm around him and Vahanian nodded he was okay, he opened his mouth to speak and dropped to a knee. Kethan caught him, unusually strong for how he looked an hour ago. Vahanian knelt next to Stheno and said "I'll carry her, her vigil is mine to stand." He managed to say. Vahanian scooped Stheno up in his arms, and set his face forward. The Paladins helped Kethan carry Stheno and the rest of them formed a Phalanx ready to deal death to any who impeded them. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| As the group walked down the hall, servants, priests, and members of the faith that inhabited the basilica parted for the group. There were more than a few cries of sorrow at seeing Vahanian carrying the still form of Stheno and the look of sheer pain and grief on his face. Upon reaching the Oracle's apartments, the paladins and Kethan took Raina into her chambers, and left her in the capable care of her handmaidens. Vahanian cleared a sofa of scrolls and tomes and laid Stheno gently upon it, brushing the hair from her face, and arranging her limbs in a peaceful display. He covered her with a blanket as a makeshift shroud. Before pulling it over her face he knelt next to her, caressing her cheek and face and whispering to her. He kissed her on the forehead, closed her lifeless eyes and pulled the shroud over her head. He stood and turned, and nodded thanks to Kethan and the Paladins. Vahanian would stand his vigil until Rania awoke and dismissed him. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| The scream his old friend let out that night would accompany Kethan for a very long time. He had never heard such a sound coming from Vahanian, and by the way he checked for Rania's pulse and looked at Stheno, Kethan immediately knew his friend would never be the same after this horrible event. While Vahanian tried to recover, Marcus checked for Stheno's pulse and apologized to Rania, though the Oracle was not listening to anyone. He stood and looked to Kethan, and clearly manifested his intention to guard the Oracle as a member of the Farseers. After that, Marcus retrieved his sword from the floor, where it was blasted from his side.
- "Lord Kethan, Lord Vahanian, What is your order?" Vahanian came to himself and took charge, summoning the paladins and nodding to Maura and Alacrix as they silently made their exit. When the armed men entered the room, they immediately formed a phalanx around mother and daughter. - "Kethan, they will help you with Rania. Please be careful with her, she sustained a great deal of magic. Sth -" He couldn't form the words, Kethan put and arm around him and Vahanian nodded he was okay, he opened his mouth to speak and dropped to a knee. Kethan caught him, unusually strong for how he looked an hour ago. Vahanian knelt next to Stheno. - "I'll carry her, her vigil is mine to stand." Kethan nodded, speechless, as Vahanian scooped Stheno up in his arms and set his face forward. - "Steward Marcus, please come with us and stand guard for the Oracle. We... We will need all the strength we can muster on this most accursed night." The paladins helped Kethan carry Rania, Marcus keeping zealous watch for their safety, and the rest of them formed a phalanx ready to deal death to any who impeded them. As the group walked down the hall, servants, priests, and members of the faith that inhabited the basilica parted for the group. There were more than a few cries of sorrow at seeing Vahanian carrying the still form of Stheno and the look of sheer pain and grief on his face. Upon reaching the Oracle's apartments, the paladins, Marcus and Kethan took Rania into her chambers, and left her in the capable care of her handmaidens. Vahanian cleared a sofa of scrolls and tomes and laid Stheno gently upon it, brushing the hair from her face, and arranging her limbs in a peaceful display. He covered her with a blanket as a makeshift shroud. Before pulling it over her face he knelt next to her, caressing her cheek and face and whispering to her. He kissed her on the forehead, closed her lifeless eyes and pulled the shroud over her head. He stood and turned, and nodded thanks to Kethan, Marcus and the Paladins. Vahanian would stand his vigil until Rania awoke and dismissed him. Kethan wished to stay, more than anything in the world, but he knew the customs of old and would not deprive Vahanian of his last right as Stheno's tutor and, essentially, fatherly figure. Respectfully bowing before Vahanian, he looked at Stheno one last time and turned to Marcus, his voice still trembling. - "Steward Marcus, the Oracle is safe and in good hands, and we must leave this room while Lord Vahanian stands his vigil, at least until the Oracle wakes up and requires or dismisses us. I will be keeping watch in the antechamber so both the Oracle and Lord Vahanian are left alone, and you are welcome to come with me if you so desire." | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| Marcus smiled at Kerman though it was hollow and cold “I will join you”, They then went to the antechamber and Marcus for one went straight to the pitcher, it was not the Daubeny Blue he was used to but it would do he paired a cup “Obeah above, I never knew such powers were possible” He exclaimed after finishing his drink in a gulp “and to nearly lose the Oracle and to lose her daughter” he shook his head the reality of what had happened finally hitting him, he paled when he though of the the possibility of the Oracle dying, he sat and motioned for Kethan to do the same, he also poured a drink for him “I am sorry for your loss, I didn’t know her long but she seemed like a good person, though she didn’t seem to like me” he offered the cup of wine to Kethan | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| - "I will join you".
With that, Kethan and Marcus left Vahanian behind and entered the antechamber, Marcus going straight to the pitcher while Kethan sighed and attempted to remain calm, or at least as calm as humanly possible. He imagined Marcus would want to talk, and it was probably his duty to answer any questions the young man could have about everything that had happened. As an arcane scholar for many years, he hoped he'd be able to do so. - "Obeah above, I never knew such powers were possible. And to nearly lose the Oracle and to lose her daughter..." - Marcus said, while gulping down his cup in a swift motion. He stood silent for a few seconds after that, and his paleness gave away that he was slowly taking in all the recent events. Marcus sat down and invited Kethan to do the same, which he did, and he also accepted the cup that Marcus was offering him. He sipped a little bit, nodded once and held to the cup as Marcus kept talking. - "I am sorry for your loss, I didn’t know her long but she seemed like a good person, though she didn’t seem to like me." Kethan sighed heavily, and had another sip before finally answering. - "I thank you for your condolences, Steward Daubeny, and for keeping me company here. Stheno was..." - a few tears fell down his cheeks once again, which he promptly wiped away - "...a very important person to me. I was there when she was born, kept her safe throughout her first few years and taught her what I could. Then I... I had to leave, or perhaps I didn't, but I did leave anyways, and then Lord Blint was the one who cared after her all the while until now. Until... today." He made a little pause, sipping again from the cup, eyes red and swollen. - "I doubt she didn't like you, Sir Marcus. Then again, I hadn't seen her for many, many years. What gave you that impression, if I may ask?" | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| "A dagger, she hid it well but many years at war taught me to be aware of those who are armed, she seemed on edge when I approached her and Vahanian"
He drank on more and refilled his cup he wiped his mouth "Kethan, what in Obeah's name happened up there" - "If she has been trained by Lord Vahanian and I know my friend half as I think I do, he for sure taught her to be always armed, always vigilant, always ready to strike. Sth... She has... had." - he corrected himself, his voice slightly trembling - "She had a rough life, being born in a very dangerous time and in a very dangerous place. Readying her for whatever could come was a moral obligation, and I trust Lord Blint did everything he could to achieve that. Please, do not take that personally, I am sure she meant no harm towards you." Kethan noticed that Marcus had decided to drop titles for his last question, and replied in kind. - "I am not sure, Marcus, for my eyes were then blind and unable to see. I know scrolls were used, I felt the magic and heard the unique sound they make while manipulated, and it is obvious the Oracle uses her voice as guidance for her spells. I would probably be able to tell you more if you told me what you saw." | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
| Roleplay from Marcus Daubeny | |
| "It is truly hard to describe but I can try"
Marcus breathed in and out "First the oracle pulled out a scroll, it sparked and the engr. and aura I say and felt was that I would fell around undead, then the Oracle sang and the aura felt different, she channeled this over into her staff, which she then placed in the water, both the water and you began to glow, it was a soft glow, not bright but still present, you began to appear younger and younger but then it stopped, then the Oracle took out another staff, this one when she used it bathed the Oracle in flame and energy, I stood frozen as she withered away before me, then Steno grabbed a portal stone and vanished, then light a bright light, when I awoke she was dead and the Oracle was ashen and tears streamed down her face, I check her plus but she was dead, he then shouted and tossed his cup at the wall, he stood and continued the scream in anger and remorse for a few second more before claiming down, he shook his head, retrieved the cup and refilled it and then drank "My duty is to protect the Oracle with my life and she almost died, on my watch, her daughter died, on MY watch, I failed Rania, I failed Stheno" He looked back to Kethan his storm greys eyes filled with tears "I failed everyone" | |
| Marcus Daubeny | |
| Roleplay from Vahanian Blint | |
| Time had become meaningless to Vahanian, minutes felt like years and days felt like seconds. He didn't know how long he'd stood his vigil, but when Rania had finally emerged from her chambers and seen him standing there, eyes puffy and red, face set in stone, sword held in front of him, pommel facings towards the sky, her eyes couldn't help but glance towards the still, shrouded, form of her daughter. Their "daughter". Vahanian's throat was raw, his heart was laden with grief, his arms and legs felt like they were entombed in mud and steel simultaneously.
"Vahan-" Her words cut short, she looked away, saying his name was too much for Rania. Vahanian sheathed his blade and crossed the room towards his oldest friend. He pulled her close and hugged her, she felt so frail, so small in his arms. She let out a silent sob, her body convulsed as her tears and snot collected against Vahanian's tunic. Neither of them cared. Dignity and decorum had no meaning nor place here. Vahanian held her for as long as he could, when their tears had dried up and they regained some semblance of themselves, the two friends sat together, by the window. Words didn't belong here, only the presence of two friends, two parents in their own way, grieving together. When at last robed priestesses quietly entered the room to prep Stheno for her funeral, Vahanian didn't know what was happening at first. His vision was foggy and clouded, he shook his head and looked around the room. He was standing his vigil still. Rania was still unconcious in the other room. That had felt so real... So authentic.. As soon as he saw the paraphernalia the priestesses had brought with them, he stepped between them and Stheno. "Don't." Was the only word he said, the look in his eye, and the tone in his voice were the embodiment of deadly force. Fear shot through the priestesses in an instant. There was not a doubt in the room, that Vahanian could and likely would cut them down should they try to take her away. Rage burned hot in Vahanian, a man who prided himself on his control over emotion was lost in the tumultuous storm of grief. Hues of rage, sorrow, love, and loss flared beneath his skin, his normally hazel eyes were bloodshot and cloudy. He didn't see the faces of the priestesses, he saw targets. He saw, heart, lungs, liver, hamstring, windpipe, jugular vein, femoral artery - all points of attack, all methods to neutralizing that which threatened to take away someone he held most dear to his heart. The priestess said gently to Vahanian "It's time." Vahanian didn't relax, didn't move. It wasn't time. She was wrong. She had to be wrong. There it was again "Your Grace, please let us pass." Vahanian still didn't relax. The priestess tried to move around him, Vahanian stepped forward and placed a hand on the hilt of his blade and drew it out an inch or so, his eyes watering, his voice unsteady. "I said, don't." "You're Grace!" Barked a Paladin from the doorway. Vahanian didn't move, didn't even look at the Paladin, but he knew who it was, the heavily armored sentinels were unmistakable. The Paladin stepped into the room and said "I must insist, my lord, you let these women pass. They are just here to do the work charged to them by the Holy Oracle.." Vahanain was fully engulfed in the flames of rage and sorrow he couldn't pull himself out. He finally took his gaze away from the Priestess and looked at the Paladin. Be it fear or instinct the Paladin stepped further into the room, hands clearly away from weapons and allowed two other heavily armored, highly trained Paladins to follow suit. Vahanian was out of control, his mind wasn't his own in this moment, but he also couldn't help his natural eye and instinct. He eyed each Paladin and identified his attack pattern. His mind whipped through the engagement before it began *Draw dagger - Falling Boulders - Tiger's pounce - Three winds - Palm strike to sternum - spin to broken tree - Knee kick, stop kick, dagger blocks beggar's dance - feint to femoral artery - end with master's pride. He was about to launch his attack when he saw the Priestess slide past him and began her work. He whipped around and as the priestesses sheepishly walked past him, he grabbed one's lapel and in a tone that brokered no argument said "Be more careful than you've ever been, or everything you know and love will be reduced to ash and not even the Veiled Goddess can spare you my wrath." The priestesses nodded and swallowed, unable to summon words. They bent down and pulled the shroud back from Stheno's head. Vahanian saw her face, still holding that devilish smile, and his heart broke all over again. A tear streaked down his cheek and became entangled in his beard. He suddenly became aware of how tired he was and how much pain he was in. His right leg didn't move right, his shoulder was searing in pain, and his breathing was labored. He needed to get out of this room, he couldn't watch them prep her for burial. Not now. Not here. He turned to leave and for a reason unknown to Vahanian in the moment, one of the Paladins placed a hand on his back and guided him out. This was unacceptable to him. Fury rushed to his beck and call like a loyal hound to it's master. Faster than he thought his body would allow given his condition, he spun around, grabbing the Paladin's right wrist with his left hand, he shot a kick with his right foot into the instep of the Paladin's left foot, he felt the ankle in the Paladin sprain and he slammed his right hand into the Paladin's throat, forcing the armored sentinel against the wall. The other two where on him in an instant, restraining him from killing their companion. The muscles in his neck, shoulders, and chest were taunt against the firm grips of the two other guards. They held him back long enough for the fury to clear from his vision and the weariness to happily replace it. When he relaxed enough for them to release him, nobody stood in his way as he made his way to leave. He made it through the Antechamber, nodding to Marcus and Kethan, waving off any advances they might make to assist him and he made his way into the hall. He ignored, for the moment, that there was no way Kethan and Marcus would be ignorant of what transpired in the lounge. He stumbled and fell against the wall. Baldwin materialized out of nowhere and wrapped an arm around his waist, throwing Vahanian's left arm over his shoulder and guided him to his private chambers. Baldwin took one look at the condition of his lord and summoned the healers right away. | |
| Vahanian Blint | |
| Roleplay from Kethan D'Espana | |
| - "It is truly hard to describe but I can try"
While Marcus described his perspective on the events, Kethan looked at him, slowly sipping from his cup every now and then. The words came out torrentially, and Kethan felt in Marcus the same helplessness he had suffered so many times in the past. Even before Marcus finished his explanation, he knew what he would be proposing to the young man when he finished his narration. - "Well, according to what you have said, I have reasons to believe the Oracle used the energy naturally contained in the scroll to attempt a different magic that the scroll was prepared to perform. That is a highly advanced technique, one that I have never mastered myself and that I have only seen attempted three times, two of which failed or did not have the desired effects. I am impressed, even if I shouldn't be. Then, it would seem she channeled that through the staff, an old classic that is well-known amongst most arcane practitioners. Do not misunderstand me here, Marcus, the fact that technique is simple does not mean it is not effective. Sometimes, the simpler the better, for there are less things that are prone to fail." He took a breath before continuing. - "After that, the energy she channeled began to perform its effect, but it clearly was not enough. This means the scroll was insufficient for the needs of the spell, which has various degrees of energy requirements depending on its intended effects. My curse was old and powerful, and that is probably why the Oracle felt it was needed to use a much more powerful scroll, most likely the second one was from a much more potent type, I assure you. She attempted to perform the same maneuver again, but she was probably overwhelmed by the excessive magical force and could not contain it, which forced Sth... Sth... The Oracle's daughter. Yes, the Oracle's daughter to intervene." Kethan took a while to continue, trying to calm his emotions. It worked, somewhat. - "Then, portal stones. Very, very dangerous magic, Marcus, much more unpredictable than scrolls. She was probably not versed in her use, being they so rare, and the spell that she wanted to perform was probably corrupted by the forces of the Netherworld. Daimons are strongly aligned to those stones, and are very capable to take over and pervert a ritual performed with them if the master of ceremonies is not very careful and disciplined. That was when she..." He couldn't continue, and looked at Marcus with teary eyes, hoping he would understand. Breathing heavily again, he changed the subject, for he did not feel ready to finish what he was trying to say. That was when Marcus shouted and tossed his cup at the wall, continuing with a long scream before calming down and shaking his head. Kethan left Marcus some time, it was clear they were both very affected and would need a long period to put their feelings and thoughts in order. Then, Marcus spoke: - "My duty is to protect the Oracle with my life and she almost died, on my watch, her daughter died, on MY watch, I failed Rania, I failed Stheno" He looked back to Kethan his storm greys eyes filled with tears and finished: "I failed everyone." In response, Kethan shaked his head vigorously. - "That is not true, Marcus, not at all. There was nothing you could have done there, since you lacked all the knowledge you would have needed to know what you could have done. However, I can change that." He looked straight at Marcus' eyes, the tiniest smile in his lips. - "I can show you the arts of the arcane, Marcus, if only you wish to partake in this most mysterious gift of Obeah. Please do not answer lightly, for the way to become a true arcane scholar is full with perils, discipline and sacrifice. However, should you want to do so, I will gladly take you as my apprentice, and teach you what I know about magic." | |
| Kethan D'Espana | |
Antonia's After Party
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura was one of the first nobles to arrive at the Basilica for the after party following the conclusion of the tournament. The first thing she noticed were the walls that seemed rather 'bare' compared to what she remembered. She smirked slightly, thinking "Antonia must've taken some precautions".
The second thing she noticed was the templar chill climbing up her ankles. She could not remember when was the last time she wore a dress... if indeed ever. Although the dark blue fabric made her look her very best, she felt like a tiger in a nightgown - utterly ridiculous. The lazily distributed beverages of all kinds appealed to her thirst, yet she knew better than to indulge the dangerous vice after the years of sobriety. Instead she picked up what seemed like a weirdly murky water and enquired nearby servant about "that thing that Vahanian puffs" not getting her hopes up about actually acquiring the exotic substance. Maura looked around for her expected partner for the evening but Alacrix was most likely still being lauded victor of the tournament - shaking countless hands, accepting countless pats on the back. Instead she decided to pay her compliments to the evening's hostess. "Antonia... I mean, Marshal Antonia" - Maura enquired a guardswoman placed in front of Marshal's quarters - "is she in?" "And who's asking?" - the guardswoman rasped with a voice that enjoyed it's fair share of spirits. "Why... I am, of course." - Maura answered, honestly perplexed by the question. "And who is... Your name, miss?" - the guard continued. "Maura" - to that answer the guardswoman just nodded and disappeared behind the door. From the other side barely audibly the voice could be heard: "... lady ... some woman asks for you... some Maura." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
| Maura suddenly heard some pounding feet as the door flew open and Antonia burst out, barrelling into Maura and giving her a massive hug. If Maura hadn’t been the size she was, she would likely have been knocked flying. Even so, she managed to lift Maura off her feet ‘I’ve missed you friend, it hasn’t been the same without you’ she said, breaking off the hug and grinning with unburdened joy | |
| Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Cheerful laughter was one of the rarest sounds to ever escape Maura's upper body, so it surprised her greatly as her feet lost touch with the ground.
"I missed you too, Antonia! But please do not ruin my only dress." - she said, overt humour in her voice. "I do enjoy what you did with the Basilica greatly. Not sure Her Holiness will share the mirth... not to mind, such occasion has to be celebrated, and the place can survive not being somber for one day in sixty years." Maura turned to the hallway, saying - "other guests should be arriving by now, shall w... about that!" - she interrupted herself mid-word - "I've stolen your former vice-Marshal for the evening. I hope you don't mind?" | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix was trying to blend in with the crowd. He was trying to find Maura before he was noticed by anyone that might give him away. As he rounded a corner he ran into the Herald. Alacrix never liked the man. He was always a pompous blowhard that thought himself better than everyone. Back when Alacrix was in charge of the Holy Basilica he tried to get the man fired. Alsa there was some idiotic clause that had it so he could not get rid of the man.
In a brief moment of panic Alacrix sputtered. "I will give you thirty gold coins to say that you never saw me." The Herald paused for a second and he smirked and gave Alacrix a look of pure disdained before shouting in a loud voice for all to hear. "THE HONORABLE SIR ALACRIX GALAR THE WINNER OF TOURNAMENT HAS ARRIVED. HE IS IN THE PARLOUR WILLING TO SIGN ANY AND ALL AUTOGRAPHS." His voice boom across the entire floor. Then in what would appear an impossible small voice after that booming declaration he said. " Take you money and shove it. It's worth seeing you squirm." With that the man left before Alacrix could get in a biting retort. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Maura was about to grasp Antonia's shoulder for stability as she heard:
"THE HONORABLE SIR ALACRIX GALAR THE WINNER OF TOURNAMENT HAS ARRIVED. HE IS IN THE PARLOUR WILLING TO SIGN ANY AND ALL AUTOGRAPHS" She squinted her eyes - "speaking of the devil. Forgive me..." - she said to Antonia before rushing off to general celebration area. It was not difficult to locate a crowd slowly gathering around an unobtrusive character. "If I may!" - Maura half-shouted storming through the crowd. A smirking herald lost balance, tumbling to the stone floor as he tried to make way for advancing Inquisitor. She took a firm hold of Alacrix's arm and said to him, though loud enough for all to hear: "I am sure the Oracle is yet to receive champion's birthday wishes. We must not keep her waiting." As soon as they escaped out of earshot of the disappointed crowd she half-whispered: "I hope you don't mind the ploy, I am not good with..." - she motioned at the tightly packed group of prominent people. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| "Maura!" He let her drag him from the crowd. He felt a mixture of giddines and stark terror. "Thank Obeah for getting me out of there. I'm not that good with a crowd. I never done anything to warrant one. I tried to find you first but that herald has always taken an extreme dislike to me. Anyways sorry for the ramblings and being late." He looked at her hopeful that he didn't just commit a major blunder. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| "Thank Obeah for getting me out of there. I'm not that good with a crowd. I never done anything to warrant one." - Alacrix said walking leisurely to a more secluded part of the hall with the unusually glamorous Inquisitor at his arm.
"Never done anything to warrant one?!" - Maura nearly guffawed - "You turned up a black horse at the tournament that had some of the greatest swordarms in the land and achieved a formidable victory; making many bet-takers very angry, doubtless, and a lucky few of them very happy. Not to mention you've squarely beaten someone once considered the finest warrior in the realm in the very first round." - Maura punched her cleavaged chest to make the jibe overly obvious. As her companion's apparent discomfort grew at the realization that he had all but humiliated the woman he now shown up to the party with, so too did Maura's amusement. Mirth entirely banished the usual chill from her voice as she rested her hand on his arm and said - "Easy, Alacrix. I am just teasing. I would be truly offended if you held back on the arena. My days of glory are long past but it doesn't mean I cannot still enjoy the martial exhilaration of combat." As Maura felt unfamiliar dryness in her throat she noticed that she was unusually talkative around Alacrix. As if catching herself on breaking a private promise she broke herself from deep thought by pointing overtly at a new arrival - "I must've missed much. I don't know that person, do you?" The sentence would've seemed odd to someone who didn't knew Maura before. Back then she would struggle to be able to speak it about anyone in the realm - from the Grand Council official to the lowest scum of the southern docks. Nothing escaped the eyes of the Inquisition, and those particular eyes used to be firmly set beneath her very own forehead. | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| Alacrix could not get over the idea of how much of a fool he was acting that night. He wondered how he could be this nervous when there was no threat of death or danger. Then again by how much Maura was talking it seemed that he might not be the only one that was nervous.
"Maura, I highly doubt your days of glory are long past." Alacrix was a little troubled by her question. He was use to her knowing everybody in the realm. She truly has been gone for a while, he thought. He put on his best smile and said to her. "Which one? I see the young Knight Ruairi. I believe he is a part of the Oracle and Grandmistress new Realm plan. The other is Sir D'Espana. I don't know to much about him but I believe he is also another one that will a part of the new Realm plan." | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| "I ment the latter, although now that you mention it the former is also interesting..." - Maura bit her lip, covertly looking for signs of jealousy. She then elbowed Alacrix's ribs not all that gently and thrown her chin up pointing to Rania she whispered: "Hush now. The Oracle makes a speech." | |
| Maura Arnickles Renodin | |
| Roleplay from Alacrix Galar | |
| "Ouch!" Alacrix rubbed his ribs. Glory days long past! Tell that to my bruised ribs, he thought. By Obeah what has gotten into her. He hoped he figure it out soon before she actual breaks something. | |
| Alacrix Galar | |
| Roleplay from Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
| Antonia just couldn’t stop grinning at her friend
‘of course I don’t mind, come on in, let’s have fun’ The night was passed in revelry and merriment. The Sisters of Fury partied as if it would be their last, for all new that it very well could be. | |
| Antonia Fitz Roberts | |
