Redrain Reception
.-. .-. .-. .-. .-. .-.
---\------\------\------\------\------\---
'-' '-' '-' '-' '-' '-'
The misfortune of so many tragedies back
to back weighs on both the minds and the
spirits of those that swear their fealty
to our glorious Compact.
While we each bear our grief and resolve
as best we can manage, House Redrain has
long occupied the front-lines of the war
against those tribes of the Abandoned in
the North that seek to undo what we have
accomplished.
To that end, we would like to invite the
southern houses represented in Arx to an
open forum to discuss recent events, and
what the next steps should be. This call
to gather is open to any and all with an
interest in participating or witnessing,
or simply offering support to the effort
of House Redrain holding the front line.
.-. .-. .-. .-. .-. .-.
---\------\------\------\------\------\---
'-' '-' '-' '-' '-' '-'
Date
July 22, 2016, 7 p.m.
Hosted By
Participants
Dagon Acacia Rohkir(RIP) Skald Viviana Kima Isolde Deva Kieran Monique Valerius(RIP) Fatima Gareth(RIP) Brianna Talen Donella Niccolo(RIP) Marcas Esera Victus
Organizations
Location
Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall
Largesse Level
Grand
Comments and Log
Kieran arrives.
Isolde arrives.
Marcas enters the Great Hall with no fuss and muss. Forearm idly rested on his sword hilt, looking around the hall at what all has been done to it for the Reception. Seems Marcas has even included to bath and have his leathers and furs cleaned. Actually smelling clean, one hundred percent clean even. Seems he even trimmed up his beard a touch, hair is slicked back. He almost cleans up well. Almost.
(OOC) Kieran is too tired to brain, so may not stick around.
Nadia motions for a servant to bring her a glass of the wine laid out for guests. "You do yourself a great discredit to think you wouldn't look exquisite in leathers, Princess Valencia," she scolds in good humor of her own, slowly making her way to the Bear table when it's revealed that she's to join the royal family. "You're a Velenosan. Anything would look great draped over you, even a potato sack."
Valerius arrives.
Nadia has joined the Bear Table.
Kima arrives.
Gareth arrives.
Rohkir has joined the Bear Table.
Brianna arrives.
Right on cue, a procession of servants enter the great Hall, each one bearing a stand of armor. In single file, the armor stands are set to each side of the room, each one bearing a plaque with information about the warrior that wore it and what heroic deed that warrior performed to earn this posthumous honor. New arrivals are offered glasses of wine or whiskey, as their preferences are indicated, the former from the southern islands of the Lyceum, the latter from the rugged mountains of the North.
(OOC) Kieran says: That's the same color my commands echo in.
Isolde makes her way in, looking around a bit curiously, her mirrored mask reflecting the lights of the hall. She looks over the procession of armors, absently taking up a glass of wine, though she does not drink right away. In a motion of unconscious habit, she passes the wine to her guard, who tastes it, then hands it back, the whole routine almost thoughtless at this point.
Niccolo arrives.
Esera arrives.
Talen arrives.
Young Valerius Thrax, prince, enters the hall with sweeping steps, as if driven by great purpose. Normally, a Thraxian driven by puropse might be an alarming thing, but in Valerius' case, the expression he wears is simply too...pleasant. It ruins everything. His tanned cheeks dimple as he glances about, but his attention is suddenly arrested by a recently placed suit of armor. He freezes, and slowly approaches the stand upon which it hangs, bending closer and closer, his eyes narrowing in something akin to alarm. Just what he is studying so intently remains a mystery...at least until he reaches up and carefully adjusts a strand of hair using his reflection in the polished mail. Then, all smiles once more, he lurches back into motion, snatching a glass of wine off of a proffered tray.
In simple dress (as is so often the case with Brianna Halfshav), the redhead sweeps into the Redrain's great hall with all the poise of someone who feels as if it's home - or at least a second home. The paneled skirt of her gown brushes the flooring in a whisper that heralds her long steps. Though a radiant display of fire in the North, her demeanor is a drawn one, and she looks a bit battered, with her attention elsewhere and much effort put into keeping herself composed and ladylike. Ish. Ladylikeish.
Kima arrives on her own, dressed casually, the sword at her hip bearing a peace tie. She declines any refreshments, politely waving the server on with a small smile. She hastens forward a few steps in order to catch Isolde's eye, and thus give her a cheery little wave.
Rohkir motions gently, taking up some whiskey. There's a crisp, direct ease to his motions, practiced, as he turns, speaking aside lowly to Nadia. It's a moment later that he takes a deep gulp of his -glass- of whiskey. His lips quirk up at the edges in a faint smile.
Perhaps a tad late, Gareth is unfortunatley mixed in with the well polished armors, though the man amongst them looks worse for wear. Sliding from the movements, Gareth will wave off the proffered drinks and offer only a slight frown. Leaning heavily upon a cane, the man will take his time in staring, watching the proceedings, observing each person who enters into the Great Hall with an unnaturally acute and focused curiosity. That cold stare studying overly long over each face as he does so. Dress otherwise plainly in a set of simple robes, the oddity is that even with this fairly plain attire, he adorns himself with a cloak as well as the odd demonstration if his status, a ring here or there.. and well thats it. Grayson's can sometimes be austere after all.
Kieran is here. He's been here. It's where he lives afterall. The redhaired prince meanders about helping with what few preparations he is assisting with while he drinks from his tankard. Supervising is thirsty work. As people start to arriv, he finds himself a seat and gets comfortable.
Isolde looks over and offers Kima a bright smile, lifting her glass to the woman, nodding to her. "Lady Kima. Lovely to see you." She spies Gareth, and her smile brightens even more, something about his arrival clearly amusing her, though not in a mocking way. She offers him a nod and a lift of her glass as well.
Marcas finds himself a place to post, the Redrain Captain and House Guard of Duke Vercyn declines any offers for drink with a gently raised hand a gentle smile. Out of the way and off the beaten path, he seems to be on duty at the moment. Watching those that have been here but more those who do arrive.
Niccolo arrives to the hall, his arm linked with Esera's. The Grand Duchess and her Voice pause briefly at the entrance, followed as they are by Talen. During that moment, the duke looks around for familiar faces before he continues on, leading his daughter further in. He leans in, speaking quietly to her and patting her arm. Seeing Isolde, he allows hints of a smile to touch his features and his gaze to linger on his other daughter, dipping his head in her direction.
Dagon arrives.
6 Thrax Guards arrives.
Gareth for his part will lift a finger ever so slightly on the hand that is currently wrapped around the head of his cane, chin dipping slightly towards Isolde, acknowleding her, though not moving to approach for the time being, instead trying to observe and watch everything. The way his gaze flits about, studying, staring, lips turning down into a frown that remains on his features for overly long.. well its clear he's having a hard time with just the flurry of action about himself. Yet even standing so long proves to be more of an annoyance than anything as he slowly starts to shuffle his way over towards the nearest chair, little thought or concern given to the actual placement of his new home.
"Princess," Kima says to Isolde with a nod of her head. "It is always a pleasure." Her attention swings to Gareth when Isolde singles him out. The Grayson inquisitor will win from the knight a polite wave, but little else. Which is all well and good, given his current predicament - the glowering at of numerous people!
Idly, Valerius takes a sip of his wine. It would seem he likes it, for he his eyebrows lift in appreciation, and he quickly takes another sip, which is, in turn, followed by a contented sigh. He is just about to sit when he spies Niccolo and Esera arrive. His eyes scan their retinue as if in search of someone, and, because he is not the tallest man, he rises up to the balls of his feet in a vain attempt to see over heads. Eventually, however, not finding what he seeks, he adopts a look of disappointment. It does not linger very long after a third sip of wine.
Talen is a remarkably stark black accompaniment to the blushed tones of Esera and royal purple of Niccolo, both of which he follows dutifully in his capacity as the Sword of Velenosa. With his light-weight armour cinched tight enough he can move unimpeded, the Lycene male's steely grey-blue gaze roams the crowd. Upon spying more than a handful of familiar faces, the inclinations of his head and folds of his torso at the waist are each in turn given to those he addresses. One of the passing servants are stopped, however, bid to attend the gracious Grand Duchess and her Duke Father before finally he takes one of his own glasses of crimson wine.
Viviana arrives.
As the procession comes to an end, leaving the stands of armor lining each end of the hall, Valencia steps forward from where she'd been off to the side, moving to stand at the front of the room, her suede dress trailing slightly behind her as she moves. "Welcome, friends, family - extended family," the Redrain princess begins. "I recognize almost all of the faces here this evening, and that warms my heart, truly. There are many faces that can't be here tonight, and it is because of them that the Duchess of House Nightgold and I sought audience with all of you." Her smile softens slightly. "We've all suffered loss at the hands of the Abandoned. Lost friends, lost family, lost profits, lost security. Ours is a glorious Compact, our lands are vast, they're fertile, and without our warriors, our soldiers, our knights - they're vulnerable. Is there anyone here that disagrees? Anyone at all that has suffered no loss due to the shavs that menace our borders?" Dark eyes sweep over those gathered.
Monique arrives.
Although Esera arrives on Niccolo's arm, her gaze is not upon him. She looks, instead, to each man and woman gathered in the Great Hall, watches each with bright-eyed interest. "Thank you," she murmurs, as a servant passes her a glass of wine. She drinks from that glass, in silence, as Valencia addresses the crowd.
Donella arrives.
Dagon arrives more obtrusively than anyone might like, though thankfully he leaves his guards loitering near the entrance as he steps inside, black leather and red silk providing a hint of his family name - if the guards in Thrax livery weren't obvious enough.
Kieran has left the game.
Donella clips herself to her younger brother's arm. For poor Dagon, this must have something like the effect of her ghoulishly materializing out of nowhere, and smiling in a knowing way to the Thrax heir.
Monique arrives at the great hall, a smile upon her face as she takes in the pomp and decoration of the hall for the reception. She then allows herself to look across the various nobles and such in attendance as she moves to find a spot to listen to the address.
Isolde waves to Niccolo, Esera, and Talen as they arrive as well, nodding to Kima. "This is a spectacular show, is it not? I haven't spent much time here, I'm afraid. It's so charming." She lifts a brow at the announcement, hiding an amused smile in her wine glass as she takes a sip.
Kieran has entered the game.
Valerius' hand shoot up into the air. It is with a quick blush, however, that he realizes he has called attention to himself. His eyes shoot from Dagon and Donella and their arrival to Valencia. "I--not me. I mean..." He quickly lowers his hand. "I was just waving to..." He trails off, then swallows awkwardly. "Please continue."
Morrighan arrives.
Morrighan is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Welcome Hall.
Viviana steps into the hall some time after the event was due to begin, her normal leathers abandoned in favor of silks as she glances around the inside of the hall and moves in further, finding a spot near one of the suits of armor as she listens to Valencia's speach. She doesn't raise any objection to the Princess's claim.
Like his daughter, Niccolo accepts a glass of wine when offered to him. Unlike her, he doesn't drink. Rather, he inhales when he tilts his head down. Those dark brown eyes of his, however, track Valencia as she steps forward, and the duke listens attentively to the woman. Her question to the crowd garners no response from the man, although his head swivels some to see if anyone actually disagrees. His gaze lingers on Valerius when he raises his hand, and Niccolo lifts a brow in response. The offered apology causes the Velenosa man to purse his lips, with a little side glance to Talen.
The Duchess of House Nightgold rises from her seat behind the table heading the room in a ripple of ethereal silks, moss green eyes flickering over faces familiar and unfamiliar alike in the crowd. "I'd like to believe that every person here in attendance tonight has had some misfortunate brush with the Abandoned, whether directly by their hands or a faint ripple felt through someone they're loosely acquainted with," she voices with an easy confidence in face of the lack of those unwilling to speak otherwise against the princess's claims.
"I do appreciate a good set of arms and armor," Kima says, gaze lingering upon one such within the row. The action from Valerius earns am amused smirk before she says to Isolde, "I'll find some unobtrusive spot to seat myself and listen..." At least until such a time as she might find it worthy to talk.
Brianna is polite, waiting patiently for Valencia to speak, though her bruised self soon moves through the Great Hall to depart with something resembling a limp. She collects a glass of whiskey on her way through, dipping her head pleasantly to those nearby as she disappears.
Brianna is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Dreamers Hall.
Gareth for his part slowly raps his fingers against the length of his cane, eyes following, observing the proceedings, Valencia and Nadia now both getting an overly long stare considering they are voluteering themselves for the attention after all. His narrowed gaze burning into each one in turn, remaining silent, his observation perpetual.
Rohkir shifts his eyes to Gareth for a moment, before letting it ease back to Valencia, attentive, and perfectly still in a rather stiff way.
Acacia arrives.
Talen flicks his attention to the words from Valencia, then to Valerius and in turn to Niccolo. It doesn't seem to be a matter he intends to involve himself in, of course, but the hard gaze is nevertheless hard to interpret as anything but judging with its intensity. Raising his wine, however, Talen salutes Isolde across the room out of greeting and respect. "We have no worry for hospitality in these halls," he tells Niccolo and Esera, "I will mingle a little, if I might be excused for a time?"
Viviana has joined the Small Table.
"I wasn't worried," Esera answers Talen. She drank from her glass, after all. "Of course, my Sword. Enjoy yourself."
Valencia's eyes, like several others, settle on Valerius as his arm shoots into the air, but before she can address him, Nadia speaks up. The dark-skinned royal smiles faintly. "Precisely. Some of us," she gestures toward Nadia gently, "Have lost more than others, it could be said. But directly or indirectly, the situation with the Abandoned plagues us all in some way. And so to that end, and with recent events being what they are, House Redrain sent out a scouting expedition to the Northern border, led by our own Prince Fergus, the Sword of Farhaven, and his sister, Princess Freja, the former Sword of Farhaven. They've recently returned with their report." She pauses, somewhat dramatically, it might be said. "Of course, after such a trip, both are in need of their rest, and cannot be with us this evening, but I assure any who may be concerned, they both returned whole and well."
Acacia slinks into the Great Hall with the soft-soled pad of her boots with little to call attention to her, hands clasped idly behind her back as she seeks to join the back of a retuine of those far better than her and then displaces herself from their company just as easily. Stealing a goblet of wine far beyond her station is done surreptitiously, however, as she finds herself leaning against a wall comfortably near one of the suits of armor, casting a distracted smile towards it as if it were some great conversationalist she was already attempting to escape. Dark eyes otherwise rove through the thicker crowds, before attending intently upon Valencia from afar.
Marcas lips purse and he looks to Valencia for a moment at the talk of a scouting party, looking out amongst the crowd as he shifts a little at his position near a wall that gives him a good view of those gathered.
Snagging a glass of wine Viviana finds herself a seat at a small table to listen to Valencia. "You are going to tell us the contents of this report though I hope?" She enquires.
Gareth has joined the Bear Table.
Valerius offers Talen an overly-bright smile in response to the hard gaze, as if hopeful that he might melt the judgmental stare. Apparently, he does not hold high hopes, for his eyes soon slip away, seeking his cousins Dagon and Donella once more. As he seeks eye contact, he jerks his head in a twitchy motion as if encouraging them to join him. That done, he finally seems to settle down, his eyes returning to Nadia and Valencia. Curiosity runs rampant on his face at the mention of the report.
Monique has joined the Pass Out Couch.
Rohkir threads his fingers together in front of him, resting his elbows on the table. His head tilts, ever so, but he appears unsuprised, for one reason or the next.
That slight wall lean becomes a stiffer posture in an instant from Acacia for some odd reason, her shoulder rolling back, as she indulges in only a single long drink of her stolen wine and then delivers it unto the nearest passing server.
Monique eventually settles down on the couch, her brow lifting slightly at the commentary from Nadia, the woman drawing a look before settling her attention back upon Valencia and her comments.
Kima's expression turns from casual to interested as Valencia makes known the expedition to those gathered.
Victus arrives.
It's Talen's job to be paranoid on behalf of his family, of course, so he doesn't make a single comment more. With a bow of his head and a dip of his torso, Talen extracts himself from the side of his charge and steps away and into the thick of the crowd. Each booted step brings him decidedly closer to Monique, whereupon he greets her from a few feet distant. "Lady Greenmarch, hello. I have not see you since... the masquerade, perhaps?" he wonders, searching his mind for the details and coming up fuzzy. "How do you do?" Having kept track of the speech, he keeps his tones to respectful quiet as he listens off-hand.
Nadia turns to place her wine glass on the table behind her, then lends the Redrain princess the full of her attention, a gentle gesture urging Valencia to continue at her pace when many of the crowd look upon them with silent expectance. She looks out across the sea of faces, briefly catching sight of Viviana amongst them. She tips her head in silent acknowledgement of the Voice of Pravus, hands folded comfortably in her lap.
"Go ahead," is Niccolo's response to Talen, with a dip of his head when Esera also gives the Sword his leave. The duke's attention turns back to Valencia as she continues speaking, with the man remaining at his daughter's side. His eyes lightly narrow at the information shared, his his features change very little. He spares a glance for the new arrivals, before his eyes return to the hosting princess and the Nightgold duchess.
Donella keeps herself quiet and subdued at the occasion. She does meet the eyes of a few whom she knows, but only very briefly, appearing shy in so large a crowd, or else reticent to speak, while she can listen instead. She releases Dagon, to do what he pleases: she wends her way through to Valerius, making a small eddy in the tide of the crowd.
Gareth's hand movements, his tapping will pause when he hears Valencia speak, though soon enouhg his impatience will once again visibly show itself as his fingers resume their tapping, his body other wise remaining eerily still as he continues to watch the center of all this attention. Not that he would have much to add to the matter anyway at this junction, and so.. the Inquisitor.. waits and watches.
Monique gestures towards the couch as Talen approaches, "I believe so, it is wonderful to see you again." She says with a bright smile, "Please, have a seat if you'd like?" she offers. "I am doing well, thank you for asking, yourself?"
Kieran remains in his quiet spot off to the side, enjoying his tankard. It sees he is more in a listening mood than the normal talking mood.
Glancing over at Donella, Dagon murmurs, "You look nice. I wasn't expecting to see you here. Which was probably foolish on my part." He takes a glass of wine from a passing server, offering it to his sister before leading her over to the table recently claimed by the Sword of Setarco. Offering Viviana a subtle bow, he claims a seat uninvited. "Want to be seated if there's an announcement of a shav invasion coming."
Dagon has joined the Small Table.
Victus arrives late, and unobtrusive. You know, unobtrusive for a very big Thraxian with tangled wild mane, and beard, and grim scars across his sun tan features, whose simple physical presence pushes against his immediate surroundings and demands way. He's not dressed up, wearing a simple outfit, vaguely militaristic. Pants, shirt and a plain overcoat. On his hip rides a plain workman like blade. His first priority is to find something to drink, snatching two handfuls of wine off a passing servant and promptly making all of one vanish, so he can continue on with just the second. His second priority appears to be to stomp his way over in Donella's direction, while he listens and looks around with scowl. Though that might just be his natural expression.
"If it would not be intruding," Talen returns rhetorically, even as he brings a hand to his sword and adjusts it so he might settle without further ado. Apparently he's decided the initial offer is permission enough. "Times have been dark as her highness, Princess Valencia indicates. For all us, however," he insists. "I have been keeping busy all the same, though. I am to take part in another bout tonight, in an hour even. Princess Alis and I are to cross swords in the grand tournament arena to compete for the next bracket of House Pravus' decathlon."
Talen has joined the Pass Out Couch.
Kima spies Victus, because it's impossible not to miss his arrival. As he's stomping towards his family congregation, however, the Lycene knight does little more than wave to him during that one brief moment when his scowl looked to have swung her way!
"Hello, cousin," Valerius whispers, in an attempt not to interrupt the proceedings. His mouth breaks into a wide smile for Donella, teeth flashing white. "The wine is excellent. And that is the only intelligence I can offer you at the moment." He takes another sip. "Oh, well, that and...here comes Victus."
Marcas's reddish brow hikes as he looks over to Acacia when she sides near him. The naturally grumpy resting face he has doesn't look all too welcoming. Stormy grey eyes looking out along the people gathered. Eyes moving from conversation to conversation. Leaning over closer to Acacia to whisper to her softly while his eyes keep watch over the Hall.
Valencia's smile widens briefly when she overhears Dagon, a single dimple making itself evident in her left cheek. "There is no incoming invasion of the Abandoned," she announces. "In fact, the border is more quiet than it's been in ages. Our patrols are in place, supply lines are running on schedule, and from what we saw, there have been no mobilizations of the Abandoned. In fact, the current camp locations actually make it quite unlikely that the recent events that have left King Alaric IV in his current state were perpetuated by any known tribe of Abandoned." Her smile dims slightly as she adds, "Of course, while this closes out one line of inquiry, it does still beg the question of just who was behind it. A mystery that no doubt, each Great House has been pouring their best efforts into solving." Her eyes drift toward Victus' entry, but she gestures toward Nadia, taking a step back.
Morrighan arrives.
Morrighan is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Dreamers Hall.
Rohkir nods faintly to himself, and brings his whiskey up for another deep gulp.
Acacia's head tilted slightly to the side at Marcus, but like him, her eyes had remained resolute when it slid across the crowds and ended up once more upon Valencia. The man's own aura seemed to do little to dissuade her presence, but respectful distance was still provided. There'd been a subtle tightening to her eyes at the corners, before she presented a slim smile, returning quiet words only as she watched Nadia in expectance.
Gareth for his part will only left his left brow for a tad then as the frown that had been touching his features not a few seconds before and disppears.. and a wry smirk has soon replaced it. Though he supresses this emotion, the amusment that soon touches his features is unmistakable, though he'll keep watching, and listening all the same.
Donella raises one slim dark eyebrow to Valerius, in silent commentary on his intelligence. "Thank you," she says drily, simply, and makes a plucking motion after his wineglass. She turns her head to Victus, and waves him in close, one finger beckoning.
Marcas gives a faint shake of his head for a silent 'no' in response to Acacia. Glancing to a the ground a moment, shifting his weight to his other foot. Left forearm rested upon the hilt of his sword that seems to be the only discernable markings he carries of being a Captain of anything. A faint sigh as that scowling demeanor continues, muttering something back to Acacia in hushed tones as he looks out to the main door as if he is expecting someone at some point.
Having finally placed that glass of wine to his lips, Niccolo drinks and continues to watch Valencia while the young woman speaks. Those dark brown eyes watch the princess with intense interest. And when she passes the stage to the duchess, they follow appropriately and fall upon Nadia next, even as he leans in toward Esera.
Though Victus says nothing, the look he gives Donella when she beckons him hither, is loud enough in its blunt disapproval. The sound in his throat is vaguely disgusted, too, to underline his point. None the less he doesn't veer off course, but rather continues until he's joined his two cousins, towering over the pair of other Thraxians. He rakes his fingers through his beard, scratching at one of the scars that anyone who's spent much time with him, might recognize as being a frequent target by his nails. Itchy bastard. "So what'd I miss?" Its less of a request than a demand, guttural and gruff, while he looks towards Nadia as she's making to take center stage.
Nadia has left the Bear Table.
Nadia has left the game.
(OOC) Kieran says: We lost the Nadia!
(OOC) Valencia gives Nadia a few moments.
Nadia has entered the game.
(OOC) Kieran says: She returns!
(OOC) Nadia says: Did my emote go through?
(OOC) Kieran says: Nope
Nadia maintains a thoughtful silence throughout the delivery of Valencia's report of good news, her lips set in a faint line when the princess turns the floor over to her. "While the more well-known Abandoned tribes may not pose an immediate threat to our lands, there are other groups who are far more volatile, and unapologetically merciless in their attacks,"," she begins, fingers touching to the Redrain princess's upper arm in her passing to stand before the hall.
"Some of you may have heard the whispers, while myself and a few other noble families have been targets of their dark rites, where they've been cited to flay men alive and perform more terrible acts in worship to things beyond the Reflection." Her eyes fall upon Isolde briefly, before scanning the crowd. "They have given themselves a name - Malardin, or the Children of Malar. Is this a name familiar to anyone?"
Isolde lifts her glass to Nadia, looking unperturbed by the thinly veiled accusation, smiling quietly to herself. But her eyes never leave the woman.
Skald arrives.
Deva arrives.
Having passed the spotlight to Nadia, Valencia arms herself with a glass of wine as she steps aside. Her attention shifts from the speaker to the crowd gathered as the Duchess poses her question, looking from face to face as if awaiting someone's guilt to make itself manifest.
Esera's gaze sharpens, at mention of the dark rites and terrible acts of the Malardin. But she says nothing, and drinks from her glass instead.
Skald closely inspects the armor sets lining the hall, peering at plaques. He's looking for names, dismissing plaques on which he doesn't find them, hands shoved deep in his pocket and lanky frame half-folded into an emotive slouch.
Monique has left the Pass Out Couch.
Monique has left the game.
Valerius shares a moment of hushed conversation with those of his family who sit near him, the three of them so different one from the other, by all appearances. His expression seems reassuring and he offers Donnella and Victus a warm smile and a roll of his shoulders before he turns his attention back to Nadia. Her words early only a blank expression from the Thraxian prince. It would seem he, for one, has never heard of the Children of Malar. He glances around to check on other faces in the room.
In contrast with Esera, Niccolo's gaze remains impassive while he continues to drink from his glass. His eyes drift to the new arrival and there his gaze lingers briefly, before turning back to Nadia as he leans into Esera.
The persisting scowl on Marcas' visage generates a secondary smile from Acacia, fleeting, but genuine. She ends up stealing another goblet of wine towards the end, her fingers curling about the stem like habitual decorum, but she doesn't drink as she similarly gazes towards the front door, watching those who enter. There's a small nod of her head, before she concludes her low-key conversation, an unwavering focus now stolen by Nadia. For only an instant does her gaze skim across Skald, descending briefly upon his attire, his arms, and then all focus is back upon the Duchess.
Victus looks back at Valencia when the woman's eyes touch him, and while it might not count as guilt, beneath his stony expression there's a definitive sneer just angling to claw itself free. He mutters out some quiet words to Donella and Valerious, too quiet to make it past their immediate proximity. Then he chugs down the rest of his wine. Two glasses downed, which means he immediately starts looking for a third. Perhaps a fourth. Yes. He brusquely beckons a servant over in a lull of that private conversation to snatch up two new glasses.
The Coldness in Gareth's gaze almost evaporates in response to Nadia's words, though his face remains passive all the same. The robed inquisitor now watching Nadia with what appears to be completley rapt attention.
Monique has entered the game.
Kieran sits up a bit more in his seat and takes a long drink from his tankard. Then he rises and makes his way over to Acacia and Marcas. He speaks wuietly for a moment, before tapping a servant on the shoulder to request some more refreshments for the gathering.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Kieran before departing.
Morrighan arrives.
Morrighan is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Welcome Hall.
Monique has joined the Pass Out Couch.
Rohkir sits, still, but patient, listening. At the name, he offers no outward sign of acknowledgement, but his eyebrows raise.
A single perfectly-arched brow lifts as Valencia regards Victus and his sudden marathon drinking, and she pauses by the table of her Redrain relatives to murmur something quietly before she continues onward, drifting through the crowd to exchange quiet words with a few of those she stops near.
Kima shakes her head - the word, the name, Malardin, means nothing to her. She had never heard of it before now. Thus, her attention is consumed by Nadia Nightgold.
Marcas gives a nod to Acacia to whatever she had whispered to him. His posture straightening when Kiera approaches. Turning his head to lend his ear better. Eyes scanning the crowd as he listens. There is a firm nod of his head, "As you wish." he rumbles out, rolling his shoulders beneath the fur cloak he wears. Resuming his post as his gaze falls more focused on the armor sets that Skald inspects.
Paperwork, right? What a drag. Deva arrives from the back of the villa, apparently still wiping ink from her fingers with what was once a clean cloth at one point. Then she fills her hand with a drink. She comes to a stop near a table and looks around, nodding first at Esera and those around her. Looking over her shoulder, she then eyes Skald and the armor with an arched brow.
Donella lifts one of her shoulders to her cousins in a shrug. She passes the empty wine glass away from them. Everyone else is whispering, and her fingers drum her lower arm with impatience. "Rather rhymes, like a child made it up," she comments to her family near at hand.
Esera blows a kiss to Deva, and smiles to her after. Her gaze follows Deva's to Skald, and she watches him with interest equal to the other woman's.
Morrighan arrives.
Morrighan is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Dreamers Hall.
Nadia has left the game.
Nadia has entered the game.
(OOC) Nadia says: I think it's fixed that time!
Kieran nods to Marcas and gives the man a pat to the shoulder, before moving to the servant who returns with another bottle of the southern wine. After chatting a bit more with the servant, he grins at his sister and approaches her, "You finally show up." He remains quiet in his questioning so as not to interrupt the conversation at the tables.
"It does have a nice ring to it," Valerius says, perhaps misunderstanding his cousin's intentions. "I rather like it. Mysterious. With a faint undertone of menace....wait. No. Sorry. That's just Victus I'm smelling." He shoots his biggest relative a wink, then joins him in accepting another glass of wine, though it is only his second.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Kieran before departing.
It's in those precious moments that Nadia awaits for someone to speak up that she studies the crowd, drinking in their varied reaction in a pensive silence. And when none arises, the duchess glides forward a step to collect a glass of whiskey from the table bearing the Redrain royalty with a demure smile cast to Rohkir.
"House Redrain, Grayson, and House Valardin have all been plagued by the Malardin and their insidious acts. Prince Radley Valardin and his eldest children at Sanctum, Prince Sherrod Redrain and Grand Duchess Carlotta, as well as High King Alaric Grayson. All great leaders lost to them."
"My mother was not lost to them," Esera says. "No."
Skald snorts. He reaches out a hand and idly bats at a plaque before moving to the next leather suit.
Viviana frowns slightly. "Wait, are you saying you know that the Malardin are the ones responsible for the attack on the King's party?"
Deva gives Esera a bright smile, and presses a hand to her heart. As Kieran approaches, she turns to regard him with a small shrug. "Emergency missives. Came as soon as I could." Her expression falls as Nadia speaks, and she looks again to Esera, eyes alight.
"Oh for the love of the THirteenth." Isolde sighs and shakes her head. "Sister, Papa, I trust you can handle this?" She turns, setting her glass down, and, with a serene expression and fury in her eyes, she makes her way, very pointedly, from the hall.
Victus gives Valerius a look for his quip, but doesn't return the barrage. Instead he watches Nadia and the reaction she gets from the room. The Thraxian himself gives little away one way or another, and between his wine and the size of his hand holding up in front of his face as he drinks, hardly any of his expression is visible anyway.
Isolde is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Welcome Hall.
Esera leaves her father's side, and goes to stand with Deva. She rests one hand upon the woman's shoulder, murmurs to her.
Acacia drags her tongue along her upper teeth, gaze focused just as much upon Esera as Nadia at this point. The goblet within her hand is still not consumed, but simply pensively twisted within her fingertips. For a brief second, she turns to judge the expression of Marcus throughout this, but no words follow this time around, instead tracking after the swifter departure of the Princess.
Fatima arrives.
Niccolo drinks from his glass, his gaze on Nadia while he remains close to Esera and now Valencia. When Esera speaks, there's a little side glance to her, before he drinks once more, his face impassive. As his daughter leaves his side and joins Deva, the duke turns to Valencia, speaking quietly.
Marcas moves from his position on the wall without a word to Acacia. His movements calm, casual, as if he just needs a new place to stand and keep an eye on things. The heavy thump of his boots, the creak of his sword belt. Finding a spot to stand near the suits of armor ends up being a nice place to lean against one of the support beams of the Hall itself. Folding his arms over his burly chest. A glance to Skald turns into a double take. A faint lean in his direction, "Interestin' markin's ye got." he notes in a soft voice, well, soft for him, it tends to carry.
Deva might be getting whiplash, but she keeps her voice quiet as she responds to Kieran and then turns to reply to Esera, a hand light on the other woman's arm.
Gareth will chuckle then, audibly so as his hands tighten around the head of his cane as he looks then to Valencia for a momment, his gaze studying her. "I trust you have brought some evidence to back up your accusations, Your highness?" Gareth will inquire aloud then as his fingers wrap slightly. "The Inquisition was cheerfully following along with your logic until we arrived at your.. supposed culprit." Gareth notes dryly, the amusement now dead in his features and that cold, impassive gaze returning in full force. "Or perhaps you have someone I can interogate to corroborate this story with.. one that preferably is not amongst the late archduchesses issue?"
Valerius sits with a knot of other Thraxians, namely Donella and Victus, whispering and drinking. He frowns at something low from Donella's mouth, and opens his mouth to speak, but the news from Nadia instead has him rising involuntarily to his feet, wine sloshing from his cup. "How do you know? Who are they? Have they claimed responsbility?" The questions erupt from the young man's mouth, adding to the cacophony, even as he watches Isolde stalk from the room.
(OOC) Gareth thought Valencia owned that pose.. if it was nadia, correct adress as neccessary
(OOC) Valencia says: Wasn't me, no.
(OOC) Gareth says: welp, replace your highness with m'lady, or lady.. or what have you
Kima doesn't speak up, though her expression has turned somewhat neutral. Her hands fold together in her lap where she sits, with one leg crossing over the other. She seems content to let others do the talking - or the questioning, as they case may be.
Skald tells Marcas, "Shhh. People are deducing." He does flash the other man a charming smile, though, for the compliment.
Esera's hand lowers from Deva's shoulder, to the curve of her waist. She gives her the slightest of pushes. Very slight.
Donella says, "What I am hearing is that 'we don't know'. Like the Prince Inquisitor, I know that the Prince of Maelstrom would like something a bit more concrete. We have people who have allegedly caused problems in the past to some of our people within the Compact though this is the first *I* had heard-- who knew somehow that ours would be out and less well defended, and... performed some sort of ritual at them, and left no trace, and went we know not where, sparing his Majesty except for a lingering case of .... drowsiness?""
"There are many evils in this world," Esera says. "Would that all hurts could be laid at just one evil's feet."
Donella says, "You have to admit, it seems a little ... improbable."
Valencia is engaged in quiet conversation with her uncle when the responses begin flying from the crowd, and she turns her dark eyes toward Nadia, brows lifting slightly as she waits for clarification. Isolde's swift departure catches her attention as well, and she sends a servant after the other woman with a quickly whispered word. "That would indeed be convenient, but likely not the case this time I fear, as the scouting report made fairly clear."
Acacia similarly exchanged her positioning, but it wasn't beside Marcas and Skald, but rather two suits of armor down and just out of line of sight from where they currently stood; head subtly tilted in their general direction, even if her eyes remained attentive of the words spoken more vocally from those within the crowds.
Deva whispers one last thing to Kieran, her expression solemn and serious, before she is pushed off by Esera's hand. With a small smile, she accompanies the Grand Duchess in Skald's direction.
Nadia presses her mouth into a thin line, unruffled by Isolde's sudden departure, nor Esera's speaking out in opposition of her claim. "To say that they were solely responsible, I cannot. But there are reports that are hard to refute that they did not play a heavy part in this. There were signs of their rites found in the remains of their massacred bodies. Lord Commander Dayne Valardin, slain with the rest of the king's body, the only one left in tact for unknown reasons. It is only my hope to present you with what was found. Do with the information as you will, but it doesn't change that dark times are upon us. " she states solemnly. "Her Highness, Princess Valeria is right that they've all been silent in the North, but it'd do us well to remember that the Abandoned are not just limited to plaguing our borders with skirmishes, and raiding our villages. The Malardin are a very real blight that cannot be left unchecked." To Gareth, she smiles ever so prettily on her departure from the stage, as Valencia answered for her.
Kieran makes a motion with his hand and turns away from Deva as their conversation wraps up. He goes to find the servant he was talking to earlier. It seems more wine and whiskey is needed, even if the table is full of refreshments.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Valencia before departing.
Marcas squints an eye at Skald. For the 'sssh' or what else he had said? Silent for a moment as he looks out along the crowd, letting people talk and weigh opinions and their 'deducing'. Squinting at something with a setting of his jaw, that scowl returns. Shifting his position on the support beat with a deep inhale, slow exhale.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Kieran before departing.
"Those are very precious, you know," Esera says to Skald, as she approaches the armor display, Deva at her side.
With a last whispered word to his cousins, and a look of extreme perplexity on his face, Valerius Thrax rises and places his wine goblet down. Then, brows knit tightly, he picks his way through the crowd toward the exit.
As Fatima enters she reaches a dusky hand out to rest on the arm of a passing servant. As he stops to look at her she shoots a charming smile in his direction before plucking a glass of wine from the tray in his hand. She moves further into the throng of people while taking a sip, and almond shaped eyes sweep the inhabitants as she searches for those she might wish to address.
Leaving her companions behind, Valencia makes her way back up to the front of the room beside Nadia. "The Duchess makes a good point. We can secure the borders as well as we can to a man, but there is only so much we can do with the numbers we have in the North, and there will be times that the very determined can indeed slip though. So think on this as you go - consider contributing what you can to the efforts at controlling the Northern borders. Whether the Malardin were behind this incident or not, they are out there and we'd all be better off with them remaining out there. Whether it's funds, supplies, or even soldiers you're willing to have help in the patrol rotations, every little bit helps. Thank you."
Skald stoops just a bit, squinting into a somewhat tarnished steel breastplate. Whatever he sees - or doesn't see - reflected there makes him smirk, and he straightens up and whirls to see Esera and Deva. "I'm being careful! I have learned to be careful with things." Then he gestures towards Nadia with his chin. "It's hard to be the bearer of crazy stories about impossible things." He gestures over at Marcas. "This guy likes my tattoos."
"I'd say, today has been most amusing, then interesting.. then so woefully disappointing." Gareth mutters, as his fingers lift then to lazily offer a wave in response to Nadia's sentiment. "The Inquisition will follow this lead, all the same, but I'd be suprised to meet an organization so stupid as to leave obvious signs of their involvement at the scene." Gareth lips twist slightly into a cold smile, "Though up to fingering the culprit however.. I enjoyed immensely every single thing that you proclaimed. The most beautiful music to my ears."
Talen rises from his seat with Monique and adjusts the way his belt is sitting, sword hung by his hip. It's then he makes a polite excuse and extracts himself from the room as subtly as he is able.
Talen is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Welcome Hall.
Talen has left the Pass Out Couch.
Rohkir straightens finally, rubbing his eyes as if coming out a daze.
Rohkir glances around and shakes his head.
Victus gives Donella a few passing words in her ear, then follows after Valerius towards the exit. On the way his eyes pass Fatima, and he makes a sort of grunt in greeting. Gruff and grudging, but its more than he's given most of the people in the room. Its followed with a rough gesture towards Donella as if to say 'go dither'. Then without much of a backward look, he's gone.
(OOC) Victus is too tired to RP, apparently! Ciao!
Victus is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Welcome Hall.
"Unless of course, they wish it to be known it was them," Niccolo observes to Gareth from where he stands, lifting his glass to the Inquisitor and speaking up aloud for the first time throughout the evening. He turns then to Valencia and Nadia, with hints of a smile. "Thank you, Your Highness, my lady. For the hospitality, and the food for thought. Protecting our borders is in fact an important matter worth bringing to our attention."
"I said they were interestin', mate." Marcas says to Skald without looking at him. "... never said I liked 'em." he then looks to him and gives this sort of sneering smile. "I figured you would of deduced that, aye?"
"It is hard, yes," Esera says. "It is sometimes also necessary." She doesn't look at all convinced that Skald is being careful, though. "Your tattoos are very ... interesting," she grants him, nonetheless. She turns a degree to face Nadia, and the front of the room. Louder, she says, "I do not believe the Malardin killed my Mother, or the High Lord of Redrain. But House Velenosa stands beside House Redrain -- we have both been wronged, and we will both have our revenge. Together."
Kima makes a small sound in the back of her throat, almost a grunt, but not quite. Her expression is...thoughtful. Pensive.
Viviana "Thank you for the report Princess, Duchess." Viviana says from where she sits, "It was very interesting." She says before standing to take her own leave.
Deva straightens, hooking an arm in Esera's so they may converse quietly before their steps bring them to a stop near Skald. "That's a relief," she tells the man with a small, restrained smile. Her expression falls as Esera speaks up, and she nods her head in solemn agreement. "That we shall, your grace. That we shall."
"Cousin!" Just how many cousins does Valerius Thrax have? "When did you arrive in Arx? By the gods, does no one let me know anything any more? How are you? You look well! Have you met anyone here yet?" The young man throws his arms wide at the sight of Fatima and quickly smothers her in an embrace, his face disappearing for a moment in the hair at the side of her head.
Skald looks hurt by Marcas' words. "Oh." To the Ladies, he notes, "Guess I misread that one." When Esera declares her support for Redrain efforts, he begins to applaud. "Good place to stand! Team Redrain!"
Viviana is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of the Lyceum - Pravus Manor - Sapphire Bedroom.
Viviana has left the Small Table.
Donella is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Great Hall, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Welcome Hall.
"I meant it in a kinder way," Esera reassures Skald, a moment before he starts applauding.
"Hear, hear," Valencia murmurs in response to Esera's words, reaching for a fresh glass of wine. "I think there's a Rite going on now, should any wish to hurry along and not miss the opening blows." Skald's cheer garners a moment of attention, and amused, she adds, "There are certainly worse places. Thank you all for coming, good night."
Lifting a smile up at Valencia, Deva nods once toward the other Redrain princess before attention shifts to Skald once more. "Indeed. Thank you."
Monique has left the Pass Out Couch.
Back to list
Someone wearing {111a {222blac{111k mir{333ror{222mas{111k{n{n{n
I will admit however I was rather taken aback when many of the ladies in attendance, very important individuals with great levels of authority and command, seemingly mostly ignored the report on the Shav threat to go engage in idle banter with a tattooed commoner over by the armor display instead. I can't imagine what that was about, but it certainly does not look good.