Dubhaine Family/Ciarghuala/Roleplays/1018/March

From BattleMaster Wiki
Jump to navigation Jump to search

Contents

Dubhaine Family
Fame 40
Wealth 19485
Home Region Ashforth
Home World East Continent

2nd March

Night -- Giask

Solomon Greybrook

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

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

4th March

Evening -- Giask

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But you think I overdo it..."

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

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

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

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

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

5th March

Day -- Giask

Aldrakar Renodin

A Monarch from the North

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

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

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

Matthew Coffey

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

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

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

Now the feast could begin in earnest.

7th March

Night -- Giask

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

8th March

Night -- Giask

William Fitz Roberts

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

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

"Emily, have you met Sir William?"

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

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

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

William Fitz Roberts

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

"Emily, have you met Sir William?"

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

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

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

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

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

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

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

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

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

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

William Fitz Roberts

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

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

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

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

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

9th March

Day -- Giask

Sofia Nistalia

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

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

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

Zajar Essenhorn

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

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

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

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Donald Augustus Allan

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

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

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

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

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

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

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

William Fitz Roberts

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

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

Staedtler la Stylo

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

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

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

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

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

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

Evening -- Giask

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

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

William Fitz Roberts

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

Sofia Nistalia

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

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

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

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

Aldrakar Renodin

The King's Ear

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

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

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

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

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

Jeffrey Birkenhead

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

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

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

Donald Augustus Allan

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

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

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

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

Just then a shrill cry rang out amongst the crowd:

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

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

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

10th April

Day -- Giask

Matthew Coffey

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

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

Aldrakar Renodin

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

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

William Fitz Roberts

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

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

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

Aldrakar Renodin

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

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

Jeffrey Birkenhead

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeffrey sighed, and faced Matthew.

William Fitz Roberts

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

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

Evening -- Giask

Ciarghuala Dubhaine

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

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

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

Matthew Coffey

Part 1: The Entertainment Arrives

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

"Ah, Sir Matthew Coffey, our gracious host, I take it? A pleasure to meet you; we did not have the time to talk with each other yet, did we? Yes, indeed, the campaign to retake Shinnen, I took part in it. My first,and so far only, campaign 'twas..." While Bethany intently observed the nobility gathered all over the place, Jeffrey turned his attention to the alcohols that got handed, and decided to take a cup with a liquid in a deep crimson hue.

"The north is peaceful these days, almost boringly so. Askileon is well defended, and I instructed the captain of my Birkenarrows to patrol our northern borders."

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

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

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

Jeffrey sighed, and faced Matthew.

A shallow nod accompanied the jovial man as he confirmed Jeffrey's initial question. He retained his passive smile as the knight recounted the joy of patrolling safe lands in the north. As noble and industrious as it might be, he knew as much as paperwork it would be as dull. Apparently the face Jeffrey made at first from the drink did not go unnoticed, causing a chuckle to escape the large mans lips. "Honestly, I couldn't tell you where it's from," he winked with an impish grin, "I didn't stock the drinks here, many of the others present decided to bring their own tastes from their new estates from across the empire. I am glad you like it though." Indulging himself for a moment, peering over the glass rim of his own cup at the young woman by his fellow noble. Perhaps eyeing her for a bit longer than what was appropriate, seemingly unphased by her unattentive nature, the viscount turned his gaze back to Jeffrey. "I trust you and the lady will find this evening to your liking, I have a few events planned to keep everyone in good spirits. The first of which I must find, they are due about now I reckon. Please, do seek me out once the wine has settled in a bit." He inclined his head, wearing that same pleasant expression, before excusing himself gracefully without the permission of his fellow.

Mildly frustrated as he could not find the alchemist he had hired immediately, the round gentleman began to weave his way through the servants and the guests alike. Once he encountered the man, seemingly cowering in a corner, polishing off multiple glasses of wine, Matthew's frustration quickly exchanged itself for a sigh of relief. Apparently not realising the dangers of sending a fairly drunk alchemist to perform for the nobles at the festivities, Matthew proceeded to a section of the gardens that had been cleared of frivolities, and began to summon the merrymakers.

"My esteemed countrymen and women, please, join me as our spring feast begins in earnest." His usually soft voice had picked up a touch, not quite booming with authority but certainly loud enough to hear from all corners of the garden. Once he had received the attention of at least the majority of the guests, he continued. "I have for you all a treat. Food, drink and entertainment from across the face of Dwilight, here to grace you all and provide mirth and merryment to our occasion." With a flourish, the portly man sidestepped to reveal a rather shakey looking individual. Wearing ill fitting robes and sporting rather scraggly facial hair, the 'entertainment' stepped forth. With a final exclaimation and a short applause, Matthew introduced his victim for the nobilities scrutiny. "A man of science and alchemy, Hephaistos of Grodno!"

Part 2: The Alchemist Performs

Matthew slinked off into the group that had gathered to watch the alchemist perform, intermingling with the onlookers and gauging their opinions on his first choice. Perhaps it had only just dawned on him that the red faced, swaying man they now watched was maybe not his best choice. Those witnessing the dread on Matthews face might pass it off as awe at first, witnessing the 'magic' that was to be created in front of them.

Fumbling with a rather complicated contraption upon the table, the alchemist began to explain, not too succinctly, what he was doing. Attaching a glass container partially filled with water onto the apparatus, the alchemist was to 'make the bottle soar high over the palace gardens and into the sky'. As the container stood upright upon the stand, awaiting its master to grant it the power of flight, Matthew made his way about the crowd ensuring wine and conversation was flowing in equal measure. He would make certain to stop by anyone who seemed unimpressed thus far and attempt to embelish the alchemists dry explainations with far more colourful language.

The alchemist proceeded to attach a tube to the container, before pumping 'the power of the winds themselves' into the bottle with a pair of small bellows. Bubbles began to dance through the liquid as if this were akin to a deity causing a mighty storm that harried sailors out at sea. No doubt less impressive so far, the alchemist persisted with the bellows for a few minutes, grinning drunkenly at the gathered high borns. Once he had finished, detaching the tube from the container and stopping it with a cork and some string, he began to shuffle excitedly to an empty spot in the garden. There he placed the container, sitting upright in its stand, and turned to the crowds. "When I pull on this string, the power I have imbued this container with will cause the water to erupt skyward, and the bottle will soar higher than the tallest towers of this palace!" He paused. A thoughtful look crossed his features, as if he was unsure this were to work, or he had forgotten to do something. The claim he made might be enough to cost him his job, if his employers were cheated of a proper spectacle.

Artfully choosing this moment to strike, the viscount emerged from the crowd, turning to them on his heel. "Perhaps the alchemist would be willing to allow one of our very own to unleash this wondrous thing upon the unsuspecting common folk of Giask?" He looked over his shoulder expectantly at the scraggly man. Hephaistos nodded swiftly in agreement, as if he had any other choice in the matter. "Splendid!" Matthew turned back to the crowd, grinning to each and every one of them. "Who then will take up this challenge? You need only pull on a string, or so the alchemist says..."

Staedtler la Stylo

Worriedly looking everywhere across the gardens aside from the scowls of Dame Sofia and her protectors across from him, Staedtler needed a reason to stand and walk away. The drink was swilling about in his head, his vision tossed sideways and heart thumping deep in his chest, rattling against his ribs. There was talking, commotion abound, and a man dressed like a pauper's clown making muddling announcements about the place. It was almost interesting, if Staedtler could but focus for just a moment. Dame Sofia's guard were haunting him, and Staedtler's soul shriveled as he hugged his sixth glass close to his chin like a mask.

Artfully choosing this moment to strike, the viscount emerged from the crowd, turning to them on his heel. "Perhaps the alchemist would be willing to allow one of our very own to unleash this wondrous thing upon the unsuspecting common folk of Giask?" He looked over his shoulder expectantly at the scraggly man. Hephaistos nodded swiftly in agreement, as if he had any other choice in the matter. "Splendid!" Matthew turned back to the crowd, grinning to each and every one of them. "Who then will take up this challenge? You need only pull on a string, or so the alchemist says..."

Staedtler shot to his boots, kicking his chair back to the table with a thud. He hurried towards Viscount Matthew like a maiden in an awkward gown late for her wedding, stumbling and shuffling as he skipped away from the table. He dropped his glass off with a distracted servant, shoving it into the lad's hands with a thanks, and made his presence known.

"I can volunteer," he shouted, rubbing his neck with a half-hearted smirk of wayward confidence, fully drowning in fear for what trouble two grapes and a poor aim could get him into. "I can pull a string as well as anybody here, i'd like to think, perhaps ..."

Benedict Dupont

Benedict observed the spectacle from his corner seat, having remained there since he first arrived, but the alchemist proved to be fairly boring.

Nothing but cheap magic tricks and clever mechanics, hardly impressive, he mused to himself whilst cradling a glass of his own Udorian vintage in his hands. This, on the other hand, is quite surprising. Robust, yes, but it has potential... I shall make it a hobby of mine to tend to these small vineyards.

Despite his lack of interest in the alchemist's display, Benedict looked on, albeit with less wonder than that of the average crowd. He'd spent the last few months fighting abominations and undead on a nearly daily basis, simple trickery at this point was tasteless and useless from his perspective.

Benedict took another sip of wine, well, at least I gain a modicum of relaxation from this event.

11th March

Evening -- Giask

Donald Augustus Allan

Donald embroiled himself in the festivities, and the small crowd which had gradually built about himself and Lady D'Arcy. Although It didn't take long for her to slip away leaving Donald to contend with the young officers, knights and ladies of the court which had gathered; not that he noticed. He took time to regale the onlookers with tales of valour and bravery, hanging upon detail and driving the danger and glory of his accomplishments ever skyward, creating the image of the man Donald believed he was. But for the most it was true, the young Lord did not lie but merely embellished his stories, doubling the foes and halving the allies in some cases. Some disregarded his words as mere fancy, rolling their eyes and flaring their nostrils in disdain before leaving, but many stayed and were enthralled by the epic he wove in words.

Even as the Alchemist, the evening's entertainment, arrived on stage he found it difficult to detach himself from the small entourage he had created. But the odd man's tricks were enough to distract him for a moment when he finally noticed Lady D'Arcy had disappeared to which he raised an eyebrow. An unusual woman he thought, looking around to see if he could spot her in the crowd. His search was interrupted by young Knight, asking about more of his gallant tales, and suddenly the search for D'Arcy was forgotten.

It was just as he began to weave words about his great victory of at Garuck Udor that he noticed the Lord of the region, Benedict, sat at the fringes of the gathering. All by himself no less.

Donald excused himself and bounded towards the man, calling out to him in a great booming voice "Lord Benedict, most excellent to see you! How do you fare on this fine evening?"

Benedict Dupont

Benedict took another sip from his cup, observing the Lords and Ladies around him, enjoying his respite from the constant conflict in Garuck Udor.

A booming voice ripped him from his tranquility, although any feelings of annoyance slipped away when he turned his head towards the source of the bellowing.

"Lord Benedict, most excellent to see you! How do you fare on this fine evening?"

Lord Donald, a fellow of Sun Hall and a companion in combat, strode towards Benedict with an enthusiastic gait. Benedict arose from his seat and met the man's stride, grasping his hand with a firm grip.

"Lord Donald, my good friend, last time I saw you was on the field of battle, it is good that we meet again off of it."

He motioned the Lord to his table, "Please, try some of this Udorian wine I found in an abandoned vineyard. It's got room for growth, but I feel that I can make it's name famous across all of Dwilight!"

He patted Donald on the back and turned to him, pouring him a cup. "So what have you been up to since we last saw ourselves?"

12th March

Summer Day -- Giask

Kaguya Fujiwara

There was a social event going on in the capital, and Kaguya was here.

The sun-drenched meadows of Ciarin Tut seemed to stretch on forever until they mingled indecisively with the farmlands of D'Haran Mattan Dews and the unclaimed wilds of Lupa Lapu.

Kaguya could have been in an evening saloon in Giask socialising with her peers, dressed in Fujiwara finery. Instead she was here with naught but the sun and wind, on a horse, and in Yamatai battle armour.

She told herself that it was duty that had called her out here to the Lurian border. That was not entirely untrue; Ciarin Tut was an important frontier province, and someone had to keep an eye on the border.

"You brought us here because you're uncertain about interacting with your betters," interrupted the voice beside her, seemingly out of thin air.

It was Alfreid. Of course it was.

Captain Alfreid, to be exact, although by his own admission he'd come rather as a personal assistant and butler.

And general know-it-all, to my detriment.

Alfreid had offered his services when she'd recruited her recent batch of retainers. The man was Lurian, probably from some minor nobility or rich mercantile family (he demurred when asked), and an expert in just about every single thing expected of a retainer.

The man could shoot well, could swordfight, spoke with the grace of a nobleman, and could brew - even Kaguya's refined tastes had to agree - a damned good pot of tea. He refused to wear anything but an immaculately pressed black long-coat with white tunic and matching cravat at all times, complete with black dress trousers and pristine leather boots.

At Kaguya's insistence he'd been outfitted with his own set of traditional Yamatai armour. Even then he somehow managed to match east with west. The polished, jet-black O-Yoroi sat easily over his butler's outfit; a dashing if somewhat exotic look.

Alfreid was good at his job, and he knew it.

He was also better than most at reading her, and that irritated the young Fujiwara hieress.

"I do not recall asking for your opinion at present."

"Nonetheless it was what you needed, milady." So smooth, his reply. So nonplussed.

He does have a point.

"I- " Kaguya started in embarrassment, then caught herself. "...Captain Alfreid, I have brought my retainers to the fief of Ciarin Tut for two reasons: to maintain order in the name of the Emperor, and to secure the Hegemony's borders."

"And I have seen to both, milady." Again the annoyingly smooth response. "I provided the men with patrol schedules and detailed instructions for when they visit the local administrations. They have departed in pairs to achieve their objectives. The forward scouts are returning from the neighbouring provinces as we speak. I left directions for your scribe to compile their scouting reports, which will of course be provided for your convenience upon our return to camp."

"Now," he continued, offhandedly brushing some lint from his sleeve, "perhaps we should discuss how best to prepare you for social events, milady?"

"Perhaps we shall not, Captain."

"Now, now, milady... I know you're not confident about your command of our language, but it's no weakness to admit the fact and try-"

"The scouting reports- " Kaguya stammered as she turned her horse abruptly to cut the conversation short. "The scouting reports will not read themselves, Captain. We shall meet within the command tent when my retainers return from their tasks."

Matthew Coffey

Part 3: The Accident

Staedtler shot to his boots, kicking his chair back to the table with a thud. He hurried towards Viscount Matthew like a maiden in an awkward gown late for her wedding, stumbling and shuffling as he skipped away from the table. He dropped his glass off with a distracted servant, shoving it into the lad's hands with a thanks, and made his presence known.

"I can volunteer," he shouted, rubbing his neck with a half-hearted smirk of wayward confidence, fully drowning in fear for what trouble two grapes and a poor aim could get him into. "I can pull a string as well as anybody here, i'd like to think, perhaps ..."

Matthew stepped aside, offering a small clap for the gangly scholar to take the stage. Hopefully the crowd was joining in, when he looked about stepping back into the mass of nobility, he saw but a few faces he recognised. "No matter," he thought to himself, "it's only the first display."

As Staedtler took position, mighty string as his sword and wine as his shield, the alchemist looked decidedly more anxious. The swaying of the noble didn't help breed confidence into the entire affair, but Matthew was certain he'd made a good choice with this act. The bottle awaited, ominously, for the finale.

The string was pulled, the cork unstoppered and a mighty pop sounded from the glass container. It flew up into the air, a jet of water streaking from the bottom of it, likely soaking the unprepared earl. Unfortunately, or perhaps very fortunately for those more inclined to prank and jest, the glass container did not soar over the towers of Giask into the city. Instead, it decided its ascent would lead it through an open window of the palace. A faint smash, followed by a shriek could be heard from the room. Matthew, and the alchemist Hephaistos, were shocked still for a moment. What damage had they caused to this feast? Perhaps then their saving grace was the dumpy woman, red in the face albeit uninjured, appearing in the window to hurl some rather crude and colourful insults at both academics standing sheepishly in the garden clearing. This caused riotous laughter to escape the round lord.

Stepping forth from the crowd to face them once again, still grinning from ear to ear, the viscount bowed on behalf of his colleague and victim. "What a delightful show, I'm certain the servants will be keeping their heads low about the windows for weeks to come!" He hoped he wasn't the only one who found the whole affair funny, but he had to persist the facade it was all going swimmingly. "I imagine all this wine and good humour has made you all peckish, do not fret, we are supplied by the finest cooks in all of Luria Nova." With a beckoning motion off to the doors leading back into the palace, a servant disappeared to fetch the first courses. "Please, all take a seat, the food will arrive shortly and we might toast to the health of eachother and the empire."

Part 4: The First Course

As the viscount ushered people to their seats, all with a pleasant smile and light conversation about how the festivities were going so far and peoples travels to the capital, he couldn't wait much longer for any more important guests to arrive. He had hoped the emperor might join them, but considering his stature, it might have been much to ask for. Nevertheless, one royal was among them and that was fine enough in Matthew's eyes. Now he needed only impress them with fine dining, if the first bout of entertainment had failed to do so.

The table itself was arranged into something of a U shape in order for all to see the others present, the round lord placed his hands upon his extensive stomach, standing still and awaiting others to appear around the table. Personally, he couldn't wait to get started eating. Thankfully, knowing the nature of the guests and the size that the event could expand to, he had ordered far more food to be made than necessary. His only specifications, beyond what had been requested personally by a few of the nobles present, was that it 'ought to suit many tastes and be perfect for picking at'. Other than that, Matthew had only suggested broad types of food he'd like to see present. Whilst he was no professional cook, he liked eating, so he generally knew what should come before and after any other course.

Soon enough, the first of the courses arrived. The servants outnumbered the nobility by some magnitude, all bearing platters of food and drink, which were placed in the center of the table spaces for easy access. Aside from a dizzying array of various fruit wines, the viscount had asked the the servants procure the same number of ciders. Accompanying this colourful array were vast bowls filled to the brim with an equally astounding variety of fruits. Strawberry, apricot, orange, apple, date... The list continued as servants dutifully recalled the exact ingredients used. All topped off with a honey and lime dressing, and a sprig of mint, of course. The overbearing amount of fruit themed starter looked perhaps a bit sickly sweet to the common man, but nobles were made for richer things.

There appeared to be a total lack of anything savoury or seriously substantial yet. It appeared the viscount had only just intended the feast to start, and in true spring fashion, the fruits of Luria's labour must come first.

"Please, do begin and make of this night what you will of it. We feast to the start of a new year of Luria Nova, and I expect it shall be a fine one. Eat, drink, and make merry! For if we cannot finish this night, we shall surely have to continue into the morrow!" He beamed at the assembly, before tugging out his seat and filling it gratefully.

13th March

Summer Day -- Giask

Aldrakar Renodin

A Delicate message to a Delicate Lady

While seated at the table and allowing servants to fill his place with a variety of exotic and delicately worked fruits Aldrakar took his time to request a piece of parchment, a quill and a vial of ink. Said vial never actually touched the surface of the table as he dipped the quill into the vial, as it was being held by a servant boy. Aldrakar paid no mind to curious looks and seemed perfectly comfortable writing his message.

He ended it with a rich flourish and lanced a dot on the fabric for good measure. Upon closer inspection he added some emphasis on the line saying Do not disappoint me. Making an appreciative noise, a tiny smirk grew upon his lips. That should do the trick. Looking at the boy with the vial Aldrakar gestured for him to exchange the vial for the sand jar and promptly took some of it and sprinkled it liberally on the yet, whet ink. Whisking any access sand off the scroll he continued to roll it up briskly and handed it to the boy. Take this to my chief scribe, have him seal it and send it to Dame Kaguya with all haste. Aldrakar made a serious face. Do you understand boy? The youth nodded vigorously. Yes your Majesty. and he bowed. Good. Now go! The boy wasted not a moment and sped away.

Forking up a piece of grilled and honey bathed pineapple he exclaimed Excellent food Sir Mathew!

Matthew Coffey

Forking up a piece of grilled and honey bathed pineapple he exclaimed Excellent food Sir Mathew!

"I'm glad you like it, I was astonished by the sheer variety that the palace was able to acquire in no less than a week. Perhaps I should have expected as much though." The young lord tipped his head politely, though no mention of 'liege' or 'king' was heard. Maybe he had forgotten himself, or the wine had reached his sensibilities. Leaning back in his chair, tapping his cheek thoughtfully, Matthew considered now that he had the tenuous attention of the royalty nearby what to say next. Thinking better than to sit silent or chat with some lesser knight, the pudgy man decided to take his chances after all.

Speaking a little louder than necessary, maybe to catch the ears of any other nearby nobility to join the conversation, he began. "I had considered, perhaps the halls of Luria need be graced by foreign powers. Were I in the position to, I'd have invited them to this feast. Although, such is too late to remedy now, what do you think of such?" He allowed the question to sit for just a moment, taking a hearty bite out of a ripe peach.

Aldrakar Renodin

The Question

Speaking a little louder than necessary, maybe to catch the ears of any other nearby nobility to join the conversation, he began. "I had considered, perhaps the halls of Luria need be graced by foreign powers. Were I in the position to, I'd have invited them to this feast. Although, such is too late to remedy now, what do you think of such?" He allowed the question to sit for just a moment, taking a hearty bite out of a ripe peach.

Listening to the younger Noble Aldrakar enjoyed a second bite of the honeyed pineapple. "Thing is." A short pause ensued as he swallowed. "Foreigners aren't Lurian. While I would much enjoy the company of foreign Nobles, a guild is ill suited for such accommodation." He let his gaze linger on Matthew, trying to see if the man was drinking in his words and meaning or if he rather prepared a counter offensive.

"Guilds are generally structured in three layers. The leadership, often referred to as Elders. Full members which is generally the main body of members and then there are Aspirant members, those that aren't yet full members." His fork sought out another prime piece and quickly brought it to his hungering mouth. "Technically it could be done. Have all foreigners be part of the Aspirant Class of a guild. All Lurians being full members and the Leadership Elders. Issue being perhaps, that very few foreigners would consider this a fair setup. Even if we were to argue that it would be a diplomatic contraption for the benefit of all involved." Without realizing it Aldrakar was now pointing the fork at Matthew as if he was holding a menacing wand of persuasion.

Dorian Pavus

Arriving at the feast in Giask, Dorian walks in. He is clean-shaven (aside his glorious moustache), has neatly-trimmed hair and wears (once more) a finely-tailored uniform. In past days where he would have been accompanied by his captains or even some of his men, this time the man was alone. He beams a bright smile, and looks far more youthful than he did in his days before becoming a priest. He had dropped off the sacred texts before his arrival, and appeared to be no longer burdened. As if he was a new, changed man once more.

"Fellow nobles of Luria Nova, Sir Dorian is back!" he declares, as he struts further into the hall.

Kaguya Fujiwara

The unfurled scroll sat accusingly on the table. Kaguya, dejected, seated as far away from it as the confines of her command tent would allow. Nearby, impeccable as ever, Alfreid.

"It would be unwise to ignore an invitation from a King, milady."

"I am aware."

"Then milady should be ready to leave at the soonest?"

"No."

"But the leagues are long to Giask..."

"Might I not respond with some claim that the border would require my presence?"

"No, milady."

"Might not the fief of Ciarin Tut require my assistance?"

"No, milady."

"Might there be, perhaps, some indefinite terms within His Excellency's-"

"His Excellency's words were quite definite, milady."

A long and drawn out sigh.

"...Very well."

"Very well indeed, milady. I have prepared a vessel for your convenience. From here, straight to Giask across the Euschean."

"And my garments?"

"Have already been stowed aboard, milady. I gave the porters instructions two hours ago."

Kaguya's narrowed glare would have bored a hole through the heads of lesser men. But Alfreid... Alfreid was no lesser man. His balmy countenance was annoyingly unshakable.

"Fine. Let my retainers remain to see to this fief's needs. But you shall come with me."

"Of course, milady."

Not an eyelid batted, not a beat missed.

Summer Evening -- Giask

Matthew Coffey

Listening to the younger Noble Aldrakar enjoyed a second bite of the honeyed pineapple. Thing is. A short pause ensued as he swallowed. Foreigners aren't Lurian. While I would much enjoy the company of foreign Nobles, a guild is ill suited for such accommodation. He let his gaze linger on Matthew, trying to see if the man was drinking in his words and meaning or if he rather prepared a counter offensive.

Guilds are generally structured in three layers. The leadership, often referred to as Elders. Full members which is generally the main body of members and then there are Aspirant members, those that aren't yet full members. His fork sought out another prime piece and quickly brought it to his hungering mouth. Technically it could be done. Have all foreigners be part of the Aspirant Class of a guild. All Lurians being full members and the Leadership Elders. Issue being perhaps, that very few foreigners would consider this a fair setup. Even if we were to argue that it would be a diplomatic contraption for the benefit of all involved. Without realizing it Aldrakar was now pointing the fork at Matthew as if he was holding a menacing wand of persuasion.

A quizzical look came from the rotund lord at first, but then something seemed to dawn on his features. He nodded along as Aldrakar spoke, at least giving him the courteousy of his attention despite having realised the error of his tipsy speech. Clearly the man he spoke with was precise with his answers. Tackling the question he was given, not what was meant to be given, in detail. Matthew could appreciate that, to a great degree.

"It seems I have mislead you, for whilst your words bring wisdom to the table, and I understand your stance on the matter, I meant not what I said." He smiled apologetically, swirling another glass of orange wine in his hand. "Truly, I meant to say that it is a shame I had not the authority to invite foreign nobility to these great halls of Luria, for this event!" He chuckled, gesturing to the vibrant gardens and imperious courtiers that thronged the palace grounds. "That I would like to see. Lavishing the guests of other realms on such splendour, such could only improve our standing across Dwilight. Better yet, we might engage in some lively politicking with our neighbours. What do you think of that?"

14th March

Summer Day -- Giask

Kaguya Fujiwara

Inside, behind the closed doors, the tinkle of delicate glassware and cutlery intermingled with the low hubbub of conversation.

Outside, hesitating in the gathering darkness, Dame Kaguya of the Fujiwara clad in the finest of Yamatai courtly fashion that she had managed to bring along with her from the East.

“My person is the present representation of the ancient and estimable Fujiwara, diminished though we are within the current era… Am I acceptably presentable, Alfreid?”

The impeccable captain-butler looked her over.

Kaguya was wearing what she called junihitoe. The traditional Yamatai garment consisted of twelve layers of robes richly embroidered with varying designs and colours evocative of the current season. It was a spring celebration, and the Fujiwara heir had opted to arrange her robes in the pattern known as moegi no nioi, which translated somewhat poetically as “scent of sprout green”. The varied hues of greens and whites of the outer garments were underscored by inner layers of rich carmine, a metaphor for the lively colours of Yamatai spring blooms that were only just beginning to bud.

Tucked through a sash at the waist to signify her status as warrior nobility was a ceremonial sword of distinctively eastern make. Kaguya’s tachi was a gently curved single-edged blade polished to a mirror sheen. Few would have known it, for the sword sat within a handsome scabbard of lacquered redwood traced with gold, cunningly worked to match the ornamentation of the weapon’s hilt.

Kaguya had brightened her face with lightly powdered dyes to highlight her youthful countenance, and the whole outfit was complemented by an elaborate hairpiece shaped like a stylized Wisteria blossom; the symbol of the Fujiwara Clan.

Alfreid smiled, ever so slightly, and gave his Dame a sagely nod.

She nodded in return, the motion quicker than she’d intended.

Deep breaths, Kaguya.

Summer Evening -- Giask

Roleplay from Aldrakar Renodin (7 hours, 22 minutes ago) message to all nobles of Luria Nova

A Very Foreign Lady

"It seems I have mislead you, for whilst your words bring wisdom to the table, and I understand your stance on the matter, I meant not what I said." He smiled apologetically, swirling another glass of orange wine in his hand. "Truly, I meant to say that it is a shame I had not the authority to invite foreign nobility to these great halls of Luria, for this event!" He chuckled, gesturing to the vibrant gardens and imperious courtiers that thronged the palace grounds. "That I would like to see. Lavishing the guests of other realms on such splendour, such could only improve our standing across Dwilight. Better yet, we might engage in some lively politicking with our neighbours. What do you think of that?" ~Matthew Coffey

Putting the fork down and rubbing first his nose and then his cheek with right hand Aldrakar ended up holding his chin not quite unlike a marble statue while resting his arm on the table. Why wouldn't you? He let the answer hang in the air for a moment and then some. Why wouldn't you have the, authority, as you put it, to invite foreigners to Luria? Aldrakar shifted his weight and leaned back heavily into his chair. Lounging almost. I invite the former Grand Master of the Morek Empire over. Only by virtue of knowing the man. You could do the same Matthew. You understand decorum, I'm sure you'd handle it well. Right at that moment a new arrival was announced.

“Honourable Lords and Ladies thus assembled, may I present… Dame Kaguya Fujiwara of Askileon!”

The air caught in her throat as Kaguya saw, for the very first time, many more knights, lords, and ladies of the Empire than she’d met thus far in all their glorious finery.

She bowed, suddenly. Instinctively.

What does one do after being announced? Where was King Aldrakar? ~Kaguya Fujiwara

From his lounging position Aldrakar took in the sight that was before them all. A flowering beauty of a pedicure never before seen in Lurian lands. A pearl never found in the waters of the Euschean yet unmistakable in its luster. She possessed long raven hair, smooth as silk and her body was adorned in a dress that rivaled a calm sea in its grace and mirror displays. A mirage absent the scorching heat known in the heart of deserts. Droplets one of a thousand of rain, each catching the prism of light combined in the smooth fabric trestles that made up her dress.

Aldrakar rose from his seat. His eyes broke from her vision and turned to look at those gathered. Close those mouth's gentlemen. Show some restraint! His scolding made jest as he conjured a bright and toothy smile upon his features. Not wasting much time he strode over to where Dame Kaguya was. Noting she was a fair bit shorter in some affirmed his masculinity in some strange way. The feeling preyed upon his inner sensibilities but he was no longer a young man. He knew better and grinned the feeling away as he turned to face the gathered Nobles. Framing Dame Kaguya with his pressence Yet, he was still a man and somewhere in his grin there was a sheen of boyish victory.

As the moment passed he gave a very different look in the direction of his seat. Stern, full of authority and rich in that quality that moved men before ever words were needed. Several servants hurriedly interpreted his will and it was perhaps obvious if you followed his eyes. A fresh seat was prepared right next to his own seat. Quite close also to Lord Matthew. Aldrakar turned his attention to Dame Kaguya. May I? He offered his arm. In a lower voice he continued. Sharks and wolves, each and every one of them! Don't you worry though, I'll get you to your seat safely. Never failing his bright demeanor. The stewards seemed to take positively forever to open the doors.

Then all too suddenly-

“Honourable Lords and Ladies thus assembled, may I present… Dame Kaguya Fujiwara of Askileon!”

The air caught in her throat as Kaguya saw, for the very first time, many more knights, lords, and ladies of the Empire than she’d met thus far in all their glorious finery.

She bowed, suddenly. Instinctively.

What does one do after being announced? Where was King Aldrakar?

Donald Augustus Allan

He patted Donald on the back and turned to him, pouring him a cup. "So what have you been up to since we last saw ourselves?"

Donald stood sharp beside Benedict, gladly taking the wine as it was offered "Well my friend, as you already know Sulorte, and of course myself, have been moved from Sky Hall to Sun Hall, so as to better distribute Imperial territory" he said "I was reluctant to go at first. But I dare say there will be many new opportunities ahead"

As they talked the gathered noblemen and women began to move towards the table, where servants were already scurrying back and forth carrying platters of sumptuous food and warming drink. Donald walked over with Benedict and seated himself upon a sturdy wooden chair, which creaked a little under this new weight. The chair groaned a little as he shifted it towards the table

"But do tell me Lord Benedict, how do you find the task of Lordship? Would you name it a burden or a gift?" he said inquisitively, placing hand upon his head and running it through his golden hair.

Benedict Dupont

"Well my friend, as you already know Sulorte, and of course myself, have been moved from Sky Hall to Sun Hall, so as to better distribute Imperial territory" he said "I was reluctant to go at first. But I dare say there will be many new opportunities ahead"

As Donald spoke, servants swarmed to the tables, adorning them with food from all over Dwilight, and perhaps beyond. Benedict followed Donald's lead towards a table and begun selecting from a fine collection of meats presented before him as Donald turned to him.

"But do tell me Lord Benedict, how do you find the task of Lordship? Would you name it a burden or a gift?"

Benedict listened intently to Donald's words, they both had joined Sun Hall at the same time, and were very much in the same boat, so to speak. It was important to know how his fellow Lord was faring. Donald's second statement was a tricky one to answer, so Benedict took his time in thinking of a respectable answer whilst he addressed his first query.

"As you likewise know, I too have joined Sun Hall from Sky Hall" he said "However, I was rather eager to join Sun Hall. Although I enjoyed being a part of Sky Hall, I was separated by the regions of Sun Hall and, as such, could not benefit as I do now being part of Sun Hall. Of course, the new opportunities that await also excite me".

After finishing his speech, Benedict took a forkful of beef, savouring the taste, before washing it down with a mouthful of wine. He waited a second before continuing with his answer to the question Donald had asked.

"That is a complicated question to answer, my friend. For one, I cannot deny that Lordship is a burden, but is that not the nature of rule? True it does consume my days and nights ensuring the prosperity of Garuck Udor, but I believe that is the duty of any Lord to any region. And I do believe that Lordship is indeed a gift, as only through this responsibility can one rise to greater things." Benedict chuckles slightly, realising that he had given his answer before he intended. "I suppose I consider it both a gift and a burden then, although I expect most feel the same way."

He turned to Donald, "and yourself, how do you find Sulorte?"

15th March

Summer Day -- Giask

Matthew Coffey

Putting the fork down and rubbing first his nose and then his cheek with right hand Aldrakar ended up holding his chin not quite unlike a marble statue while resting his arm on the table. "Why wouldn't you?" He let the answer hang in the air for a moment and then some. "Why wouldn't you have the, authority, as you put it, to invite foreigners to Luria?" Aldrakar shifted his weight and leaned back heavily into his chair. Lounging almost. "I invite the former Grand Master of the Morek Empire over. Only by virtue of knowing the man. You could do the same Matthew. You understand decorum, I'm sure you'd handle it well." Right at that moment a new arrival was announced.

The lord rose a finger as if to respond to the question, but whatever he had to say only put a thoughtful look upon his face. Leaning back in his chair, he listened some more to the king, mulling over his words as one might consider partaking in an aged wine. He took the final comment with a tilt of his head, smiling thinly to the king. Perhaps he might do just that, but perhaps he would visit them first... Certainly it couldn't hurt? His thoughts were interrupted in much the same manner as the kings speech.

Taking what he thought to be a reprieve, Matthew swiped a strawberry, still dripping with honey and lemon drizzle. Gracefully soaking his hands and chin in the sticky substance, he was caught off guard by Aldrakar's bark to the rest of the pack. What surprised him most was the royals personal interest in the dame. Certainly, Matthew had had correspondence with her briefly over letters, but that didn't warrant his full attention. His gaze wandered languidly up to the towering man, perhaps noting the tone used he did not seem as startled as one might imagine. Following the royal's movements toward the entrance, it seemed on the outside that something had struck the young lord across his face. Raising an eyebrow loftily at Kaguya herself, Matthew absent mindedly dabbed at his chin with the table cloth.

Even the city of Giask was not graced by such foreign majesty. Had he not known her rank, he'd have assumed he looked upon a queen, not a mere soldier. Since it was clear that Matthew was not adverse to giving the arrival a long look over, eating up all the sights of a foreign culture in a single individual, the stare perhaps affirmed Aldrakar's warning of the men about the feast.

"Sharks and wolves, each and every one of them! Don't you worry though, I'll get you to your seat safely." Never failing his bright demeanor.

A wry grin followed that sentiment. "It seems the oldest wolf among us has already claimed the honour of the hunt, woe to any that would challenge him!" Matthew surveyed the room as he spoke, lapping up the chance to engage in the banter he practiced as a squire, making sure to raise his voice so that the other hounds might join in. "Though knowing the women that call themselves Lurian, perhaps it will be the hunter that is in danger this eve?" The round, red cheeked face of the man winked in the direction of the two. Whether it was meant for Aldrakar or Kaguya was impossible to discern.

Sofia Nistalia

Sofia remained silent during the show of the alchemist, her expression of total disapproval only accentuated as what she considered a farse went on to its breaking point, literally. As the window broke, Sofia's expression changed from mild displeasement to outright anger. How dare a commoner damage the propiety of whom she considered divine?

She took her time, remembering each action of the alchemist, before finally standing up, her bodyguard aiding her with the chair and the two of them making their way to the gardens, leaving a simple "I need to cool down after such a disgraceful show. I shall return shortly" to anyone whom asked her on the way out, taking little time for idle chat on her irate state.

On the gardens she wandered alone, observing the views of the glorious city of Giask as an aged old man dashed to her, handing her a scrolled letter.

-What's this?- she asked, her expression of anger banishing at the sight of the seal on it.

-A letter from the Emperor himself, lady sofia!

She beckoned him away, leaving her puzzled at the title of "Lady" being given to her. She took little time to pluck away the seal and read the letter, her expression going from confused to joyful in mere moments. Everything was going just as planned.

William Fitz Roberts

William could stand it no longer. Whether true sorcery or cheap tricks, he was forced to witness evil being performed as if it were entertainment, and could no longer bear to be present. He nodded at his groom, who understood the message immediately and went to make arrangements for later. William himself rose, taking little care to mask his disapproval, his chair falling to the ground with a violent clatter. He quickly left the hall with purposeful strides, breathing in the fresh air of the gardens. He came to a balcony and looked over at the city of Giask, his knuckles going white as he gripped too tightly rage coursing through him. What he had just witnessed demonstrated the problems at the heart of the Lurian nobility, too much joy in frivolities, unaware of the dangers that could arise from such entertainment. He breathed deeply, taking in the cool evening air. He began to wander aimlessly through the gardens, taking in the evening scents, before he saw a lone figure up ahead. As he approached, he saw it was Sofia, and quickened his pace hoping to find a like-minded person

'Madam, something appears to have pleased you greatly?'

Sofia Nistalia

Sofia watched at the incoming man, taking a moment to identify him and delaying her answer to his greeting.

"Ah, it is of great news. It appears that my liege has retired from his charge, and the lands of Santoo are under my watchful eye." she answered, his name forgotten to her but attempting to cover up for that mistake. It was to her like a boon from the emperor himself, to rule over her own homeland. A right earny by the blood of her men.

"What brings you here? I doubt you were looking for me, was it the display of foul magics at play by the alchemist, or the food was not to your taste?" she said, her voice cold and with little emotion behind it. Her expression returned to its usual, a mild combination between displeasure and anger. "If it is for the former, I share your opinion. If it is for the latter, there are some members of the feast who prove themselves far more irritating than the food of the land."

William Fitz Roberts

Sofia watched at the incoming man, taking a moment to identify him and delaying her answer to his greeting.

"Ah, it is of great news. It appears that my liege has retired from his charge, and the lands of Santoo are under my watchful eye." she answered, his name forgotten to her but attempting to cover up for that mistake. It was to her like a boon from the emperor himself, to rule over her own homeland. A right earny by the blood of her men.

"What brings you here? I doubt you were looking for me, was it the display of foul magics at play by the alchemist, or the food was not to your taste?" she said, her voice cold and with little emotion behind it. Her expression returned to its usual, a mild combination between displeasure and anger. "If it is for the former, I share your opinion. If it is for the latter, there are some members of the feast who prove themselves far more irritating than the food of the land."

'Congratulations on your lordship then, my lady. It was indeed the former. Although I highly doubt it was real magic, even making a mockery of such dark magics should not be encouraged. I am glad I have found someone who agrees with me, I am at the present writing a treatise on the topic of witchcraft and how it should be prevented. On the matters of irritating guests, I also share your opinions, some of our fellow nobles are truly insufferable'

Summer Evening -- Giask

Kaguya Fujiwara

For a Fujiwara lady trained in the arts of courtly politics and war, Kaguya found herself strangely unaccoustomed to the attention being paid upon her person.

The Fujiwara hieress fell back upon Yamatai traditions, electing to maintain a dignified silence as the novelty of the situation threatened to encroach upon her. She'd heard Aldrakar's words clearly (it was, admittedly, rather difficult to miss his energetic countenance), but her unfamiliarity with the nuances of the Dwilight common tongue made it difficult for her to summon an immediate response.

"Your Excellency," she finally replied.

Truth be told, in Yamatai it would be highly unusual for a nobleman to approach a noblewoman so directly. More subtle tactics were usually employed. But Kaguya reminded herself that she was now a Lurian, in Luria.

In any case, she decided that candid honesty would not go unappreciated by the Imperial Magistrate.

"I must regret that my outfit predisposes me poorly to take Your Excellency's arm." Kaguya smiled ruefully, gesturing to her rather complex sleeves. "But I am most honoured that Your Excellency has prepared a place for me at your table."

Then, slightly more boldly than she'd intended, "Shall we, my lord?"

Aldrakar Renodin

"I must regret that my outfit predisposes me poorly to take Your Excellency's arm." Kaguya smiled ruefully, gesturing to her rather complex sleeves. "But I am most honoured that Your Excellency has prepared a place for me at your table."

Then, slightly more boldly than she'd intended, "Shall we, my lord?" ~Kaguya Fujiwara

Her words and the accompanying realization made him feel out of place, awkward another word that came to mind. Yes, well, let us get to the table. As he turned to face the other Nobles he pressed his lips tightly together for a short moment. Making a neat little line before diverting his attention back to the foreign lady in her serene whirlwind of a dress. As if to assure Matthew that he hadn't missed his comments Aldrakar threw the man a glance that resulted in a conspiratorial wink.

Nearing their seat Aldrakar spoke softly to Kaguya. Have you made acquaintance with Lord Matthew? His eyes led hers to the portly man seated near to where their own seats were. A master of tastes and delights. He nodded sagely at her. In what Aldrakar hoped was a private moment, picked between the time she would look at Matthew and he at her, Aldrakar checked if the servants had readied Kaguya's seat, a simple chair would not do but fortunately the servants had made suitable arrangement, albeit perhaps a bit unorthodox.

Tohrm Elrath

It had taken the young knight many a day to travel through the countryside of Luria Nova, and whilst the weather was modest and the roads uneventful, Tohrm had taken a leisurely pace to reach the capital of the empire. Sweet relief from the cramped and dreary atmosphere of the clerks offices back in Poryatu.

Upon his arrival, Tohrm made no delay in readying himself for the feast, despite his late arrival. He had no intention of ostentatious display, and thus chose to garb himself in something that was also fit for travel, if the need arose. A soft leather doublet, coupled with a tough, blue trimmed cloak, with cotton trousers, was his attire for the event.

Given his lack of retainer company and somewhat reclusive standing amongst the rest of the court, Sir Elrath made no great display as he entered the ever increasingly busy gardens of Giask where the celebrations were held.

He requested a goblet of port, savouring the sweet, thick alcohol. A welcome change from the watery brews of the road that brought him here. Afterwards, light and mostly inane small talk between him and the lesser nobles who sought to curry favour would take up an hour or so of his entry to the feasting.

Tohrm's attention however was securely directed on finding the gracious, and proven capable host, Lord Coffey. Finding the somewhat rotund lord amidst the festivities would hopefully not prove too difficult, and on greeting him and introducing himself, Tohrm would seek to maintain conversation with him.

If any other nobles who were familiar to him were to cross his path on his search, he would humor them with idle banter or whatever business they happened to have in mind. star [reply to sender] | [ignore] | [userdetails] [character details] | [give medal: Trust medal Roleplaying medal Fun medal] | [vulgarity]

Sofia Nistalia

"Some of them act like baffoons entertaining the commonfolk instead of their gifted position in our realm. it is disgusting and disheartening to see such behavior being done by the closest to the Emperor instead of drunk farmers at the farm leaves me baffled at how low they are willing to sink. Where are the defenders of Luria? Honorable men and women ready to stand up for their empire? I fear they migrated to join the undead hordes at the sight of that behavior."

Sofia's words were cold, speaking to William with irritation and discontempt. She was visibly disappointed, her expression breaking past the layers of makeup.

16th March

Summer Day -- Giask

Sofia Nistalia

"I await with interest to read your teatrise, and see what you have in mind. Maybe it will bring some sense to those whom call themselves noble but lack the education for it." she said, her bodyguard approaching and handing her a letter, giving it a quick read before beckoning him away with it. "Maybe we should return to the feast, even if only to keep appearances and hold these-" Sofia took a pause, thinking for a correct name. "Nobles from destroying the palace."

William Fitz Roberts

As Sofia left, William looked over the city, its lights reflected in the waters of the sea. He turned as he heard someone approach, removing his hand from the hilt of his dagger when he saw it was Godlinda, the captain of his guard. She quickly bowed and snapped to attention, speaking as if giving a report

"Everything is in place for later, Sir William, the houses in question are being watched and each soldier knows their place"

"Excellent, you made sure everything is untraceable?"

"All livery has been removed, and no one is dressed as a soldier. It took a while to get them not to stand like soldiers, but I think I managed to beat it out of them"

"Excellent, while what we intend is not strictly illegal, it is best that what we do does not come back to me, as these are technically not my peasants. How are the men and women?"

"They are looking forward to tonight, they want to kill some witches at last"

William allowed himself a rare smile at that, though there was no mirth behind it. While each member of the Stalwart Defenders were excellent fighters, that is not why they had been chosen. Each had been personally selected by him for their zealotry, their hatred of magic. He had found Godlinda herself beating on some street magician, and the two had immediately seen eye to eye "by the way, commander, this letter arrived to your apartments"

William took the proffered letter and saw it was from Anne

Beloved,

Good luck with your activities this evening, my thoughts will be with you and your daughters will know that their father is doing a great thing tonight. I hope to see you returned to me soon, but the realm must come before family

Forever yours,

Anne

William's spirits were lifted by the letter, though Godlinda could see a sadness behind his eyes. She knew that he had not seen his wife for many moons and that this was taking a toll on his morale, although he never showed it "I must return to the party, go back to your post, Godlinda, and ensure that you are ready for what must be done"

As she saluted and strode off, William took one more look at the city. One day, the stain of witchcraft would be purged completely from its streets, but for now one family would have to serve as an example of what was to come. He turned and slowly walked back to the part, running his fingers through the flowers as he passed by

Dorian Pavus

Dorian stood in his chambers, peering between a copy of the sacred texts, and his set of armour. Each had such value to him, beyond words, beyond measures. He had to make a choice for no one man in his position could or would have both.

He looks to his armour: the hero Dorian Pavus. Saviour of the realm of Luria Nova, friend and ally of all his noble peers and the common people of the land. He who will forge a future for his family and his kingdom.

He turns back to the texts: the harbinger Dorian Pavus. Saviour of the past and the religious truth of the lands, friend and ally of few but the loyal followers. He who may revolutionise the future and culture of the people.

He had studied the art of the war, not the art of influence, culture and so on. He had been religious his whole life, but wasn't a leader there. It was only on the battlefield that he was. And perhaps that was the solution. He would bring it with him, his most loyal compatriots at his side.

And thus, he formed the Sanctus Fortifiers, Sanctus Fortism's first military force. Perhaps it would be its last, but it would be one that history would never forget. At Dorian's side, it was led by Captain Hadwin, former guardian of the sacred texts. It was time to return to the battlefield. And while he would carry his faith and country with him, he would once more be able to turn his focus back to the Knights of the White Rose. Perhaps this was the plan of the Divines after all.

17th March

Summer Day -- Giask

Matthew Coffey

Nearing their seat Aldrakar spoke softly to Kaguya. Have you made acquaintance with Lord Matthew? His eyes led hers to the portly man seated near to where their own seats were. A master of tastes and delights. He nodded sagely at her.

Rising from his seat, slowly but deliberately, the much younger lord offered an almost mockingly serious bow, considering his earlier statements to the rest of the nobles present. "I am honoured to finally put a face to the name of one so diligently performing their duties to the empire. Truly, it is a shame you were not present for the southern campaign that so many of us," he gestured about the hall, more notably pointing out figures such as Donald, Staedtler, Jeffrey and Benedict, "were a part of." He smiled warmly to her, and then to the king. "I would not, however, consider me master of 'tastes and delights'. Were it my hands that created the food for this feast, I feel as if I would be executed for treasonous murder of its patrons." He barked a laugh, gesturing to the two, notably the king also, to take their seats.

As he was to seat himself, a man appeared from the nearby battlefield of courtiers and servants, dressed almost as if he were but a tarted up bodyguard. Quirking a brow to the man as he introduced himself, Matthew, seemingly unknowing of his countenance, asked Tohrm, "Forgive me, I don't believe we have met yet, although I dare say you are the knight of Old Delvings no?" Before the man could answer, Matthew had already summoned a servant to fetch a new chair to the increasingly crowded part of the table. "It seems we have an unexpected guest," he turned his attention back to Aldrakar and Kaguya for a moment as the servant left for the chair, "no doubt I will not need to introduce our liege to his vassal, nor the dame. For the former, due to his countenance, and to the latter because no introductions of mine could grace our lady quite appropriately enough." With that flourish of his courtly prowess concluded, and with a seat fetched for the knight, the round man finally planted himself again into his chair.

21st March

Summer Evening -- Poryatu

Staedtler la Stylo

Staedtler snapped a step back when the bottle rocket shot away and climbed through the sky. The tail of smoke and embers it left blurred and split into a dozen, faded parodies. His vision was swelling and his head was bouncing, a ship lost at a sea of fruity wines. His steps fell loose upon the stonework and he stumbled down to a knee, caught by some other attendees who brought him back to his feet with a hearty slap of the back. Their eyes were upon the sky, and Staedtler struggled to follow, looking in completely the opposite direction, off towards the silent sea. The shrieking thing was lost against the night to him. Somewhere high above his head it flew, never to be seen again. Shame. It was heaven's problem now. Perhaps he should've enveloped a letter for those above before pulling the string. Maybe they would have replied? Who knew? It was an odd night, anything could happen.

Staedtler was about to look for the vagabond alchemist, but people began to suck their teeth in anticipation, gazes still committed skyward. Glass shattered way off into the upper towers of the palace, and the sound span Staedtler around to the general direction. A horrified, effeminate scream focused his sight. The rocket had burst into a window of some unknown lady, who was retaliating with every curse and insult she had at hand, even a few heavy books were lobbed toward the gardens in her fit of rage. Staedtler made himself small as he could and weaseled away back to the tables amidst the laughter and jubilation. He slammed down onto an empty seat and scanned about the freshly laid foods. A mug from the seat opposite would do, and he snatched it before looking for the fish he requested. Or was it beef. Did he even make a request? Memories to painful to recall through all this rummaging and winery.

He sat vexed on the thought. Food was on the brain. He lazily stirring at the drink with his finger as head lay in hand, pulling his lip off his teeth with the palm into a tiresome, drunken snarl. Whatever had he forgotten? Then, he remembered something. Something very much not food. Something important: breast pocket, left side, papers. He left his newly acquired mug - the seventh friend he had known throughout the evening - and began picking away at the insides of his coat. From inside he withdrew a thrice-folded piece of paper between his fingers. Staedtler tried to unfold the papers. Thumbs became fingers and fingers tried to become thumbs. The paper resisted, tearing in places and bending in others, but the folds were eventually thrown apart to the open air.

His face twitched as if he'd read a wasp's sting into being by tracing across the opening lines.

It was a speech. An important speech. His speech.

Oh, gods, no, the fool said, taking his drink; his anchor. What am I doing?

He took to his feet, drink and speech in hand, and stumbled over his feet down the tail-end of the table. Maybe someone saw a steely, determined glare in his eyes that night. Perhaps they were impressed by his posture, his raw, liquid confidence made material. Most would likely recall the look of the fawn in him, however. Its flailing limbs bucking about behind his vacant, white stare and reddened face; the look of an impish coward. Taking one final quaff, he heavilly rapped at the woodwork with the base of the mug, calling for Lordly attention, and climbed on top of the table. His mind was bound by the prison of etiquette despite its fierce protest of reason and dignity, silently screaming for thoughts of what the fumbling, craning body and its slurred voice were going to do before all of these fine people.

23rd March

Summer Evening -- Poryatu

Argeleb De Arthedain

Argeleb sat in the corner of the feast, keeping much to himself and watching the banquet unfolding around him. He wasn’t yet well known at court, but had been in contact with Sir William and had come greatly to admire the knight. As far as he was aware, he was the only other noble who Sir William had sent a draft on his theories regarding the legalities of Witchcraft. Argeleb agreed with William on many of the finer points, in particular the restriction on magic users and the need for licencing. He looked up as he saw the giant of a man re-enter the hall. ‘Here goes nothing’, he muttered and downed his drink. He carefully picked his way around the edges and as he approached the man, he dropped to one knee and spoke fervently, ‘My Lord William, I have been following your career with great interest these past weeks and your service to the realm is an example to us all. I wish to help you in any way I can, and I therefore hope that you will accept my financial support and in return you will allow me to shadow you and learn your ways?’

William Fitz Roberts

Argeleb sat in the corner of the feast, keeping much to himself and watching the banquet unfolding around him. He wasn’t yet well known at court, but had been in contact with Sir William and had come greatly to admire the knight. As far as he was aware, he was the only other noble who Sir William had sent a draft on his theories regarding the legalities of Witchcraft. Argeleb agreed with William on many of the finer points, in particular the restriction on magic users and the need for licencing. He looked up as he saw the giant of a man re-enter the hall. ‘Here goes nothing’, he muttered and downed his drink. He carefully picked his way around the edges and as he approached the man, he dropped to one knee and spoke fervently, ‘My Lord William, I have been following your career with great interest these past weeks and your service to the realm is an example to us all. I wish to help you in any way I can, and I therefore hope that you will accept my financial support and in return you will allow me to shadow you and learn your ways?’

William stopped suddenly, startled by the man who suddenly knelt before him. He was quiet for some time, sizing up the younger man. At last he spoke,

"Get up, and for God's sake breathe, you're a knight not some blushing miller's girl overcome at the sight of the local blacksmith", he paused again, trying to gauge the youth.

"However, I might have some use for you. Come, and sit beside me. If you are free later tonight I might be able to show you some of my more important work"

25th March

Summer Evening -- Poryatu

Theros -- Royal Rangers

Theros dropped to his knees and thanked the gods as he gazed upon the welcome sight of Shinnen.

Months he had spent, traversing the wilds of the West. From the great city of Darfix down to the haunting Mines of Chrysantilys, and further south to explore the ruins of Dragon Song, he had cleaved his way through the dark and terrible creatures of that unholy side of the world.

And nearly hadn't made it back.

He had not encountered another soul on his long journey, and all he dreamed of now was a frothy ale and human contact.

He looked down at himself. His beard was long, and full of sticks and twigs and leaves. His clothes were covered in dust, mud, and blood. And some sort of green ooze of which he could not identify.

If he wished for people to talk to him, a Bath and Massage might be a prudent order of business...

26th March

Summer Evening -- Poryatu

Bennet Selemnir

Bennet sat in his tent with Captain Haldred. The men were exhausted - he had driven them hard along the road to Poryatu, and late into the night. But this was no time for idleness. He had been given a direct command from the military council to investigate the situation in Dantooine, and he aimed to make his reports as soon as possible. Despite their fatigue, the camp was set out in crisp lines, the men organizing themselves exactly as they had been trained before settling in for some rest. They new better than to shirk their duties in front of their Lord.

Haldred was pouring over the documents the scribes had delivered. Bennet was allowing him to read the messages of international intrigue the Suzerain Emperor had sent his way. He was reluctant to admit it, but it was good to have a man of Haldred's abilities with which to talk things through. It had been some time since he had enjoyed the company of...not a friend, exactly. A confidant. Only one man had ever truly held that title before.

Bennet shook off the thought of his cousin. Feldric had proven to be a disappointment.

"The realm turns swiftly," mumbled Haldred, more to himself than to his Lord. Bennet nodded. He liked the man, in truth. He had regretted leaving Captain Diebold in Ciarin Tut when he had set his previous company there as militia. But he would do well there. Bennet felt more secure with Diebold overseeing the border guard. And he liked having someone he could trust keeping an eye on the comings and goings at Sir Dorian's new temple in the region. He found Dorian to be quite pleasant, actually, but this new religion had Bennet's hackles up, stirring up old memories of his father. It seemed worthy enough, but a man could never be too careful.

Haldred was right. It had been an interesting time in Luria of late. He felt the North had come out quite strongly in the overturn in leadership. Earth Hall would benefit under the wise mind of King Matthew. And the Emperor taking up the crown in Askileon benefitted everyone. Now that was a man to be admired. A hard man. His words had stirred a fire in Bennet's chest. In his mind, the recent peace had allowed an apathy and lethargy to seep into Luria; like a cool damp in a poorly maintained store room. Harmless at first, but a problem in the waiting if not dealt with swiftly.

Bennet allowed himself to relax a bit and as Haldred continued his musings. He sipped a bit of warm wine - an rare indulgence. But it helped him sleep. It would only be a few short hours before he would give the order to rouse the men. The sun would not beat him to his duties this day.

27th March

Summer Day -- Poryatu

Myr Arnickles Renodin

A snowflake made of purest silver, shimmering in the dawning sun - that is the impression one would have looking at it from afar. From up close the mix of marble, granite and limestone in rich areas and chalky mudbricks in poor areas of this metropolis, bathing travelers in shocking amounts of light was even more impressive. Absorbing the wonders of the Silver City walked young Myr, his mouth failing to remain closed. The shadows growing shorter informed him that it was getting late. "You don't get knighted by pretermiting one of knightly virtues!" - he thought to himself as he hastened the pace.

Arriving at The Rendorian Imperial Complex he marveled - mouth agape - at the columns and cobblestones, the spacey hall and the ceiling. As his eyes finally wandered to the figure in the prominent place of the room, he forced his mouth closed and assuming the most dignified gait he could manage he walked towards the man in front of highly decorated chair.

Performing genuflexion Myr said the words:

"I - Myr Arnickles Renodin - do solemnly swear my oath of fealty to my rightful liege, Margrave of Askileon - Aldrakar Renodin, and to the Kingdom of Moon Hall, in person of Royal Aldrakar Renodin. I swear my Imperial Loyalty to the Hegemony of Luria Nova and His Imperial Highness - Suzerein Emperor Aldrakar Renodin. To my blood and honour I swear to serve and protect my rightful liege and my realm, with all my will and all my might, and give my life - should it ever be requested. This is my oath."

Finishing the speech he pounded his chest three times, representing three degrees of sovereign faelty he sworn. Expecting the touch of the sword and handing of the deed for estate he anxiously looked up.

He saw a man of most regal provenance. The aura of gold and silver surrounded him. His hair - originally of golden hue - now were hinted with silvery shades. His shape was strong, with majestic shoulderguards adorning already broad shoulders. In battle with passing time the Emperor hadn't given up much of the field, he endured it artfully - his face, other than with several battle-scars, wasn't showing his age at all. His blue eyes met young knight-to-be's stare with kindheartedness, there was some universally paternal care in them, as if he viewed all subjects of the Lurian Empire as his children in a way.

Myr thought to himself - "Is it truly possible that in my veins flows the same, albeit watered down, blood?"

He then lowered his stare to the polished marble, in which he saw his own reflection. His dark eyes went from frizzy hairs at the top to his boyish face, his dark cheeks contorted in a catlike grin, his lean frame and considerable length of his torso, his long, athletic legs and finally to his well-worn footwear at the bottom. Thankfully most of this was masked with a plate armour of lesser quality, altough polished to look as knightly as possible.

Aldrakar Renodin

The oath of Myr Arnickles Renodin

"I - Myr Arnickles Renodin - do solemnly swear my oath of fealty to my rightful liege, Margrave of Askileon - Aldrakar Renodin, and to the Kingdom of Moon Hall, in person of Royal Aldrakar Renodin. I swear my Imperial Loyalty to the Hegemony of Luria Nova and His Imperial Highness - Suzerein Emperor Aldrakar Renodin. To my blood and honour I swear to serve and protect my rightful liege and my realm, with all my will and all my might, and give my life - should it ever be requested. This is my oath."

Finishing the speech he pounded his chest three times, representing three degrees of sovereign faelty he sworn. Expecting the touch of the sword and handing of the deed for estate he anxiously looked up.

Letting the words hang in the air, Aldrakar beheld this scion of the bloodline mingled with his own. He looked healthy yet the complexion of his skin distinguished him clearly from the main Renodinian Bloodline. He still recalled the letter from the daimon infested continent of Beluaterra. From Astros, informing him of the new Cadet Branch. Arnickles Renodin the name felt awkward as it rolled off his tongue. Without pausing he unsheathed a now shimmering blade in the cascading light that spilled in from the tall windows. Engraved with the symbols of House Renodin and decorated in fine gold around the guard. Holding it up straight Aldrakar spoke.

"And to your Oath I shall hold you. Until such a time that I release you from it or death does claim you. In turn I will provide you with an upkeep suitable to your service rendered onto me. Providing enough so that you may command a company of good and loyal men in my name and do battle for the pleasure of the Realm and its Sovereign master, The Emperor."

A small pause fell as Aldrakar's gaze left little to question who that person was before resuming.

"I swear to do right by you as long as your Oath is strong and shelter you in my homes, provides you cloth to garb your body in and see to the nourishment that grands you life. Justice shall be mine to give and my hand to shield you from the evil of others. This is my sacred vow onto you as Liege and I accept your Oath.

The estate known as Heir's Gate is now yours by bond and oath, use it wisely.

Sir Myr, you do me proud and make swell my heart with hope as the future just turned to a stark Gold against the black night sky."

The imperial blade wielded in Aldrakar's hand moved with measured grace and touched Myr first on the left shoulder, rested there for but a moment and then moved on to touch the right shoulder. Sheathing the sword Aldrakar deigned to lean a little bit closer to Myr and whispered something to the young man. The words impossible to all but those blessed with dog's hearing from catching. So Myr was accepted as an Imperial Knight of the Hegemony. His tale yet begun and already, finding himself with huge shoes to fill.

Myr Arnickles Renodin

Hearing the words, feeling the weight of the blade on his shoulder, finally standing up a knight - Myr bowed ceremonially and departed from the hall. Onlookers could've thought that the Rendorian Imperial Complex had a power to transform, for in went a boy, out came a man. Same face, clothes and armour, and at the same time - a different person entirely.

Jeffrey Birkenhead

The antechamber of the throne room of the Rendorian Imperial Complex was a magnificent sight to be behold in and off itself. True to the style of the silver city, masterfully cut and polished marble lined the floor and walls; there were colored windows depicting heroes of Luria and its ancestral realms, tapestries of legends of Dwilight, like Amaranthis the Guiding Torch and Cryssalia of the Rightous Cudgel, both champions of the people and their lands alike. Jeffrey knew several of the figures, for they were his ancestors, great men and women of generations past, but still sung in some songs of old. And despite those names being remembered, their family name descended into obscurity, and most would turn a Birkenhead making the connection down as a mere claimant, a leech off fame that is not theirs; so the family ceased to do so long ago and has sworn to bring forth new legends, to bring honor to the blood that flows in their veins, and make their heritage believeable once more

"Rumor has it that today, a young noble who claims to share blood with the Renodin family and even bears the same name, gets knighted in these halls."

"Just like I did not too long ago, towards a different emperor, under different circumstances. And still I am nervous, though this will likely be more of a a formality than first time around..."

"Sure, Jeffrey, but Aldrakar is not known for being pedantic or vindictive towards those that swear their loyalty." Bethany Birkenhead sat next to him, his trusted second cousin, confidant from childhood to these days. Her voice was calm as ever, and her face revealed nothing contradicting to that. She was firmly grabbing Jeffreys left hand and smiled at him. "Won't you look at yourself! That new armor of yours is amazing. Those elaborate gemmed ornaments are extraordinary, and that leather is of excellent quality. And with Andegasi, our treasured heirloom, on your side, Barantol will watch over you."

"Ah, truth. Our great ancestors would be ashamed if they saw me like this. Swearing an oath of fealty to your emperor is nothing to be afraid of." Jeffrey closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "It is an honor, nothing less.", he said, a firm and convinced tone underlying the statement, after he exhaled.

28th March

Summer Evening -- Giask

Nicholas Archival

It still hurt to stand. It had been days since the physicians had declared him to be in good health, but they had cautiously informed him that it would take some time further before he could regain the full control over his faculties that he was comfortable with. Regardless, he no longer had the time to rest and recuperate; upon his return to the political stage, circumstances had already rapidly developed. Imperial Magistrate. It still felt strange to be referred to in that way, to have the one-time position of Aldrakar. His admiration for the man he had come to regard as his mentor added to the quiet sense of elation. The recognition was almost too good to be true.

With that in mind, there was no opportunity to dally. He strode forward into the small hall, wherein he had convened the most senior Tekian bureaucrats. It would not do to be kept so unawares about the current state of local affairs - greater Luria was one thing, but he could not ignore the concerns that sat at his doorstep. Upon his entrance, the selection of men and women stood up in recognition, offering the customary bows or genuflections that was required in acknowledgement of his station. With a brief wave of dismissal, they returned to more comfortable stances.

"First, allow me to say that I am pleased that you have arrived so quickly at my summons. Even those of you from Whitfield; I might have tolerated delays, but it appears I underestimated you," Nicholas began, before continuing. "Now, onto business. I have been kept away from my reports and books for some time and I would have you give me the seasonal reports. First of Granfield, then Granby, and then finally of Whitfield."

A woman stepped forward, recognisably in the most recent fashions among the middle-class of Granfield. "My lord, with the policies you implemented prior to your unfortunate illness, we have managed to tread water without any drastic drop in productivity..."

The conversation continued for some time, inundated with the facts, figures and nitpicking that professional bureaucrats were infamous for. At times, it was all he could do not to begin dozing off, but he needed to be resolute. It was necessary work and he would be an altogether poor Earl if he did not push through until the conclusion. The content of the discussion was soothing enough: Nid Tek had remained solid in his absence and its local administrators had done competent work in ensuring that his good work was not undone with any corrupt machinations.

Eventually, he found himself back within his study, his guests returned to their homes or their inn rooms. Now the local matters were attended to, it was time to broaden the scope of his work...

29th March

Summer Day -- Poryatu

As the sight of Giask came ever closer across the glimmering surface of the water, the Vanguard was preparing to disembark from the Ferry that had taken them across the Euschean. The experiences of the journey and the company he had kept, all gave him hope and filled him with anticipation to what the future may hold. Emyhr stood at the bow of the ship looking listless, tired from the long journey from Poryatu, for the travels south had not been without its hardships. As the final approach came in, Emyhr thought to himself,

"So this is the great gem of Luria Nova, having not been here since I was a young boy, seeing it through the eyes of a grown man presents a different perspective than just a boyish wonder. Giask represents something greater, the power of Luria Nova and what shall come in the future."

Emyhr returned to his vanguard, seeing a childlike wonder among the face of his men who would be visiting capital for the first time, feeling pride to know that he had been able to show them Giask as his father had intended before him. Many of the men within the current Vanguard were not seasoned as were previous generations, but they showed the ambition that could lead them to former glory. Awash with emotions, Emyhr stepped aside, for he knew this was but the start of his long journey.

With a resounding cheer from his men, the ferry docked at Giask, the moment that he had waited for since his succession. Emyhr, stepped off the ferry, with great pride knowing that he had made his father proud in fulfilling his last request. The Vanguard disembark, each man showing great admiration towards the grand city, each face filled with hope for the future and excitement for the coming events.

Summer Evening -- Poryatu

Staedtler la Stylo

The air about the building was humming with heat and dragonfly flutter. The first campus building of this new University of Dwilight stood amongst a sprawling garden of colour; summertime fruits glowing away in the rich, wet green of healthy tree leaves; rose bushes and kettleflower vines lining the painted sandstone walls; pure, birch-white linen poled-up in squares offering shade to wine-drinkers and glass-clinkers alike. The moating stream trickles around the building. The waters were quiet, calming, and ran parallel to sets of tree-bound hammocks and lounge chairs. Staedtler was beneath his newly repaired umbrella by a table of maps, documents, and several string-bound stacks of coin. Beside him were several craftsmen - architects, carvers, carpenters - and the proprietors of various construction enterprises, their hands uncalloused and faces untainted by the weeks in the sun endured by their employees. The matters were not wasted on the suffering befell by simple workhands, but rather upon the numbers signed and underlined by the stooping Earl. He scratched his name into the parchment, nodded to his scribe, and divvied up the coinage to the men gathered, much to their delight.

As they scattered away, their respects and thanks fading with every step through the gardens to the exit, Staedtler turned to his beauty. The Shinnen Purlieus campus of the University of Dwilight. It had the depth of a manorhouse, the width of a racecourse, and was as tall as a tower. It's mazing depths split off into a dozen lecture halls, libraries, and laboratories, although Staedtler was yet to set foot inside. More gold than most men would ever hold in their lifetime was spent upon the project, but the only currency Staedtler had concern for was a wealth of knowledge. The people here, the dignitaries and guests of honour by the drinks table upon the stream bank, they knew nothing of the power within this building's core.

Staedtler squeezed the key in his palm - tangible, yet somehow still dreamlike. The sleepless nights spent by candlelight, pouring over documents and plans and schedules, had worn down the walls of his mind. But the raw, sustaining strength of his intellect still remained, smoldering away within, if only a little unbound - somewhat more wild and untamed. Staedtler asked his scribe to gather the guests from the wine bar and took to the steps before the great, pearly-white door and its blackened, iron-cast frame.

'Immortal through Legacy'

The inscription was curled into the stonework of the archway above his head, looming. Expectant. Hungering.

Staedtler saddled over the silken ribbon hanging before the doorway and pulled his umbrella shut. It was a daft, intricate thing. Utterly unique, but still daft. But oh, how it paled before the marble and sandstone titan. How it shrank from thought as Staedtler's dream-addled mind hooked upon the key in his grasp. It was cold, and of a gruesome, devilish weight - one that no man should hold.

Yet here Staedtler was, waiting on the doorstep of immortality.

Myr Arnickles Renodin

Giask - the great city, the golden city, the jewel of the south, crown of Euschean. It had many names, none of which gave justice to the marvel of a city it truly was. Myr counted his Redmanes atop the gangplank of the ferry that carried him over Euschean Sea. Standing two dozen strong were the veterans of quarries, salt-mines and pastures - a sight to behold. He tore his eyes from the magnificence of the sky-poking spires and looked down. The other company that travelled on the same ferry had already been disembarking.

"Blast it! Northern knight'll take all the best warriors before I get the chance!" - he subtly swore.

Thinking - 'there's no time for sightseeing' - he rushed to the recruitement offices, his men barely keeping up. When he finally stopped right in front of the heavy hand of a season officer outstreched in a halting motion, he grinned with joy and taking in several hasty breaths he shouted:

"I'll take three dozen of the best men you have!" - his words flowed with an accent particular to the nomads from the Desert of Silhouettes, with words joining one-another - a way of speaking that could only be compared to singing. In language native to the Desert two consonants never link the words, which makes sentences sound like very long single words. In common tongue the effect is not quite as spectacular, but still pleasant to the ear.

"Hold on, young'un. Our best men are reserved for the most capable, prestigious and honourable commanders. For you..." - he took a measure of the young noble, eying him up and down - "I won't part with more than a couple of them and you would have to disband your current company, they would only get in the way of the seasoned warriors."

"What?! I will have you know..." - Myr started to protest but then looked over his men. The Redmanes could well be called the Greymanes - most of them seen well too many winters, some might even remember the founding of Pian en Luries. He gave up on the arguement but not on the indignance: "... I will have you know that I am Myr Renodin and you will do best to grant me the finest fighting force you can muster!"

The veteran manning the office of recruitment just scratched his head and assuming a bit humbler tone he started turning the pages of what looked like the great compendium of noble houses. Moving finger over the pages he mumbled out: "Muren Odin, Muren Odin... Muren Od- I'm sorry sir, I can't seem to find anything here! Let me call a friend." - he then started shouting back through the hall - "Bob! Bob! Have you heard of house Odin?! Sounds northern, can you bring here the lists of noble houses of Avernus, Westgard and Arnor?"

A bit dumbfounded Myr tried to correct: "No, it's Myr-"

"Just a second, Sir." - the officer interrupted him.

Not certain if he was being mocked or genuinely misunderstood, young knight swiftly left the offices and supplemented his company with volunteers from the open area of recruitment offices. Greatly troubling him was the thought - what shall he say of his unit if he bumps into a fellow knight.

31st March

Summer Day -- Poryatu

Aldrakar Renodin

The end of the Day

The cool Euschean breeze made light his work and sooner made the affair of writing correspondence with various Nobles across Dwilight a joy rather than a chore. The sumptuous, crystal glass filled with an orange hued wine did it's part naturally to add to the experience. Half a dozen scroll cases were already filled with personal letters and a single vial of expensive ink stood sentinel as its contents was already drained and spend. Its purpose closer to that of a paperweight was it not for its staunch refusal to be used so. Staining fingers that so tried to impose their will upon it.

The day before the Rendorian Elite had escorted their charge to a snug little inn. Old enough to have memories of Luria Vesperi and lovingly maintained so that its roof beams yet looked sturdy below the thatched roof. Walls of natural stone covered with a graceful layer of weather granted patina. Butterflies and flower bearing vines embracing its sun touched surface. Making the small commercial abode fit in finely with its surroundings. The path leading down a gentle slope from the main road was reinforced with modest boulders and lined with old oaken roots allowing refuge to the mosses that couldn't suffer the brilliant afternoon sun. From a maple shuttered window Aldrakar looked out to the sea. Several local fishermen guiding their vessels over its mirror surface as they too sought hearth and home after a long day of work. Long shadows cast from their humble masts. Looking down at the shore Aldrakar spotted three children, two girls and a boy, play in the cerulean waters. Probably the brood of the Innkeeper Aldrakar mused. Their straw colored hair shone in the late day sun.

Drawing his attention back to his work, a deep frown imprinted itself upon his forehead. It was followed by an indulgent grin and his hand pushed the parchments away. Confined to the edges of the desk he was sat at. Moments later Aldrakar joined the children who had no clue about who he was. They couldn't identify him wearing fine but rather mundane clothing. Linnen breaches and a loose shirt with a v-neck left entirely unbound as to show some of the skin of his chest. Aldrakar shed his leather sandals and rolled up his trousers to just below the knees. Assisted by a moss covered rock of course as he gratefully leaned against it. Readying himself to join in on the play he felt the warm Euschean air touch his skin and he breathed it in deeply. Life is good. Pushing himself off from the rock he raised his hands and mimiced a monster. Brwwaaa! I'm gonna eat you! He plopped his feet into the waters of the sea and felt the softened pebbles mixed into the pearly sands below the surface. Excited squeals and the sound of rushing water danced into all of their ears and the sun smiled down its warming rays.

So the Emperor of all the Lurias ended his day on the road. One more day added to that short list of days worth living for.