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Winter Poetry Contest

Come in from the cold and enjoy a night of poetry at the Hart! Vote for your favorite poets with donations to assist orphans in the Lowers, with prizes to be awarded to the favorite poets of the evening.

Date

Oct. 2, 2020, 7 p.m.

Hosted By

Emberly Talwyn

Participants

Norah Akamos Gerrick Liara Rowenova Ryhalt Amelie Monique Valerius Orick Ripley Ailith Alaric Aiden Valencia Kastelon Icelyn Kiera

Organizations

Golden Hart The Salon Bard's College

Location

Arx - Ward of the Compact - The Golden Hart Social & Gaming House - Main Hall

Largesse Level

Small

Comments and Log


The poetry contest was starting to be in effect, not many folk were here just yet, there was servers however moving around taking drink orders and ussering people to the tables which were set. It was all beautifully done, the tablecloths sparkled and the candles alight the dark room, making the mood romantic and shadowy. "Feel free to take a candle from the bag as you enter."

2 House Velenosa Guards arrives, following Valencia.

Kit, the grey fox, Primus, First of Monique's Assistants, 1 Greenmarch Guard, Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants, Valerius arrive, following Monique.

Already here is Scout Rowenova in the shady alcove with Sir Flop by her side. Upon the associated table is a lit candle as well as her writing supplies: feather quill, ink wells (black and blue, both), and beige paper atop this protective board (to hopefully stop any bleed through from marking up the surface below). She looks up then stands up, leaving behind her hawk quill in the black well.

Punctual but alone, Ryhalt enters the Hart with a smile. Seeing his cousin, Emberly, he nods to her greeting, taking note of the room's present atmosphere. He takes a candle and walks over to Emberly. "Hello. What are the candles for?"

Sir Floppington gets up and stretches out before padding up to Pickles with whom he touches noses before also greeting Emberly the hostess, too.

Amelie makes her way in to the Hart, not entirely paying attention. She makes it a few steps in before she looks up and sees the crowd. She freezes like a deer in headlights. The little leather clad lady looks ready for adventure, rather than poetry. Her brown hair is tied up in a bun today. Her brown eyes blink a few times before they scan the room. She lets out a little "Oh..." at the crowd that is gathered, and she looks like she might just try to walk backwards right out before anyone catches her here.

Into the Hart, upon the dashing arm of the Marquis Valerius Malespero, is the Lady Monique Greenmarch. In her honey silks, the redhead makes a striking companion to the enigmatic Marquis, her crimson head bent to his in conversation. It lifts when she takes in the transformed atmosphere, sucking in a gasp of pleasure. "Oh, look, my lord, isn't this beautiful! I can think of no better place to continue our evening than here. Tell me, are you a poet at heart?" she asks of him, eyes sliding to others she recognizes, dipping her head deeply to Ryhalt, smiling to Amelie and Emberly, quite naturally blocking the former in as they've just arrived behind her. Poor Amelie.

Monique gets A sensual holiday candle from A Sparkling bag.

Amelie gets A sensual holiday candle from A Sparkling bag.

Emberly smiles a little as she greets everyone who is entering and those who have already been, "thank you for coming to the event, if you wish to read off your poems I would ask you get in line when your ready. To those not reading, please support your favorite poet by donating an amount of silver after they are done reading. It is only by largest donations we shall have our winner tonight."

"And remember all proceeds go to the orphans"

Rowenova has joined the line.

Valerius takes A sensual holiday candle from A Sparkling bag.

Ryhalt smiles to Monique and acknowledges her with a return nod of his head. He moves on to the seating area and takes a seat at a table in preparation to watch and listen.

Although Rowenova left behind her quill, she does not leave behind her paper, which she sweeps up off the table before stepping out from the shady space. Glancing around at everyone here, she gives time for others to proceed to the entry line before her, but not seeing anyone do so, she shrugs slightly then steps up to the starting line.

Sir Floppington steps up to where Nova is and sinks into a lean along her leg.

Ryhalt has joined the table by the fire.

Beakers - an austere raven, Gorty - an apprentice in a yellow tabbard arrive, following Orick.

Gorty - an apprentice in a yellow tabbard have been dismissed.

Emberly smiles as she sees rowenova there and she smiles a bit to the woman offering a small wave of her hand to her as she glances all around. "help yourselves to a holiday candle as my thanks for attending the event." she turns a moment as she draws a breath as people stagger in. "Welcome!" she says to everyone that comes through the door, "the servers will get you any drink of your choice." she smiles as she too has a cup she picked up from a passing waiter.

Amelie has joined the line.

Emberly says, "pleast get in line if you would like to share your poem, remember to donate to your favorite speaker, the poems can be anything and everything you imagine them to be do not be shy.""

Valerius nods to Rowenova, /the Lady with a thousand titles/, though for the most part has not properly met most of the room as of yet. To the room at large as they enter and trap the previous lady in, "Ah, the last time I was here the Arena was transformed for a batch of lords and ladies to try riding a bull. It was most amusing. This room has a certain /feeling/ does it not? I'm enjoying this feeling." He then turns to Monique and whispers to her.

Amelie looks behind her and sees her escape route is kind of blocked. It causes her to look a little flustered for a moment before she gathers herself and makes it further in to the Hart. She tries her best to find a seat quietly. Perhaps she can get away with just blending in.

Orick arrives dressed in modest winter attire with a heavy satchel hooked over one shoulder and he glances around the room with a wide face illuminating grin as he examines the gathering and searches for the hostess. Upon spotting Emberly he makes sure to stop by and say his hellos on his way into the room, "Lady Emberly, what a turn out." He glances to the line that is forming, "I don't think I brought a poem but I wanted to turn out and show my support for the artists."

Slinking into the gambling house, or what he presumes is a gambling house, Ripley unravels the scarf that keeps him from being a frozen Thorburn and gives a heavy sniff as he looks around the nobles in front of him. Hand reaching up to scratch at the unkempt beard and shoves shaggy hair to the side so he can actually see before lumbering around the people idling in the entryway and toward the bar.

Turn in line: Rowenova

Emberly nods her head to Orick, "we will determine the winner by whom gets the most donations, all funds will go to General Piccola for helping out the orphans." she says as she sees whho she has in line "so without further adue our first speaker is Lady Rowenova, and please do not be shy pick up a candle from the bag if you have not yet."

Orick takes A sensual holiday candle from A Sparkling bag.

Orick nods to her words and goes to quickly take his seat, stopping by to get a candle from the sparking bag on his way through the room. Eventually, as he sits down and find a place to listen to the poems he gives the candle a curious sniff and mutters quietly, "Mm, bergamot and white pepper." Then he sets the gift down on the bench next to him and turns his attention to the recitations.

Orick has joined the plush, comfy sofas.

From the shade of her wolf pelt, Nova smiles back to Emberly and Valerius. Meanwhile, she brings her paper up in her left hand with the Saikland ring as her opposing hand on the right side drops down to gently pet the good boy. Seeing Amelie join, Nova lets out a relieved sigh that she will not be alone! Then, she turns back to the crowd and addresses them. "Hello and Welcome! Purrhaps... you some of you might recall my stories of cats from way back. Anyway, Sir Floppington and I certainly adore feline kind. He helped me write This One." And then, she begins to tell the poetic tale!

As deep as the Whirlpool were her eyes and her growl.
As sharp as Frostfang were her claws and her fangs.

As niveous as the Everwinter was her mewtiful fur.
(It was as soft as Silk and as warm as Fireweave, too.)

***

She was feral as cat be. A dangerous stray, indeed.
She and the humans had a history. It was not a good one.

Sometimes, those humans would come to the back alley. And then,
they would dare to draw too near, and... she would bite them!

Not only blood would be shed but also tears would rain, too!
And oh! How those humans would screem, and then they would flee!

Some would tell her that she was boring, mean, and stingy.
Mayhaps true, but she would hiss and sharpen her claws amew.

Some would complain and lament that she was not as good as
other kitties who were stronger and who would like those pets.

She was too proud to ever be handled without care, though.
Still free, she would climb up the fence and strut, indeed!

***

One day, yet another human decided to enter the back alley, but...
...This One smelled different than all the others before them.

This One looked at her with the kindest eyes. This One told her the
most amazing stories that she had ever heard in all of her Nine Lives.

She deserved to be loved and to be respected they told her, and
that if they ever had a kitty like her, they would hang onto her.

She could feel herself wanting -- yet afraid -- to be with This One.
Could this be true? Could she be sure? Or was This One all a Dream?

Too much of a scaredy cat to make a decision right then and right there,
she flicked her tail and sauntered away! What would come another day?

Since that whelming moment in Time, she could not stop thinking
about This One and how much they cared. And so, that was not the end.

***

After trying to sort herself out for a few days, she finally did decide.
She catfully approached the door of This One and mewed to be let inside!

And then, Nova briefly bows before standing back up. "Of course, there is more to the story, but that is enough for now." She smiles brightly before sauntering off to the shady alcove with Sir Flop!

Whatever Valerius has whispered to her, Monique's smile grows dazzling and she leads him to a table to claim, leaning in to whisper something in return. Her eyes find Amelie and there's a curious look to the woman, and a sudden invitation, "Join us? You look as though you've a poetic soul." Then her emerald eyes catch on Ripley's arrival and the Minx's smile grows blinding. "Ah, the Shiniest of Jewellers! Master Ripley! Join us! Come meet the Marquis Valerius."

Monique has joined the wildcard table.

Emberly smiles to nova's words and she claps a little "great poem, I will open up Lady Rowenova's donation jar." she giggles a little as she looks around the setting to be sure that everyone was enjoying themselves.

Ripley has joined the a handsome wooden bar with steel footrest and swivel barstools.

Amelie stands and quietly joins Monique as she was invited and she is not one to be rude. "I am not sure poetic soul is or was a word often used to describe the Steelharts, but many things are possible." She says in her monotoned oathlands accent, taking her seat again quietly.

Valerius has joined the wildcard table.

Dame Marra, a limping fennec fox, Disciple Ismay, 3 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Ailith.

Someone's calling his name. Ripley looks over and when spotting Monique, takes the drink that's placed in front of him and languidly makes his way to the noblewoman at the table and offers a bow to her. "The woman from the murder."

Ripley has left the a handsome wooden bar with steel footrest and swivel barstools.

Ripley has joined the wildcard table.

13 King's Own Guardsmen, Zelda, the royal messenger arrive, following Alaric.

"I do love meeting new people. Especially such lovely ones," He pauses for a moment to be sure to look each new person to the table over, then settles on Monique again getting lost in the sea of green. "I am Valerius Malespero, Marquis. And who do I have the pleasure of conversing with tonight?"

Getting seatuated at the shadowy alcove, Nova sets down her beige paper upon the table top then glances up to curiously regard the ongoing poetry. Hopefully? Wagging up to Nova, Sir Flop gently rests his doggie chin on her near thigh.

"'The woman'," Monique echoes clutching a hand to her breast, lips curving wryly. "Oh, to be so beautifully described. Master Ripley Thornburn, allow me to introduce you to the charming and handsome Marquis Valerius Malespero and..." Her gaze drifts to Amelie, emerald and curious. "I don't believe we've met, as the Marquis says. Lady Monique Greenmarch, 'the woman'," she introduces herself to Amelie with a low chuckle. To Ripley, she murmurs, "Will you be composing an ode to something shining this evening, Master Thornburn?"

An evening of poetic expression and good company has drawn out the Legate of Concepts from any confines of an office. Upon entry, Ailith carefully removes her outer cloak and folds it over her arm before stepping in closer to find an open seat. Her smile warms in greeting to those she passes.

Ryhalt applaud's Rowenova's poem, smiling to her after she's finished. While waiting for the next poem, he looks about, people watching.

Alaric inserts himself into the gathering forray with as much discretion as a monarch can, positioning himself into a seat to enjoy the ambiance.

Ailith has joined the line.

Orick is seated on one of the comfy couches watching the poetry and the peerage with a discerning eye and a painfully casual expression. The introverted academic seems perfectly content doing more watching and listening than actual socializing. When the King slips in he does take notice but there is no one closer enough to whisper to and so he just looks away and back to the show with a polite ignorance, letting someone else draw attention to the monarch if they so desire.

Alaric has joined the plush, comfy sofas.

Emberly gets something from someone, a piece of paper and she laughs and nods "Legate Ailith?" she asks calling out, "someone says you have a poem to share?" she calls out the woman next in line.

Turn in line: Amelie

"Lady Amelie Wyvernheart. A pleasure." Amelie says to Monique and the Marquis. Although she is flat in affect, it is likely a pleasure for her. Even if doesn't sound like it.

3 Rubino and Zaffria guards arrives, following Aiden.

Alaric has joined the line.

Emberly gets something from someone, a piece of paper and she laughs and nods "Lady Amelie Wyvernheart" she asks calling out, "someone says you have a poem to share?" she calls out the woman next in line.. "while the Lady gets ready do help yourselves to the candles in the bag, and drinks are on the house tonight" she smiles brightly.

The applause draws attention from Nova who smiles to Ryhalt for it as well as momentarily mouths a Thank You his way. After the dontation from That Woman, Nova ultimately repeats that same process but to Monique this time. Then, the cobalt blues of the scout briefly shift to Amelie, doing so with a head tilt of wolf-framed noggin. But, she is soon disracted by Ailith, and straightens up to curiously watch (and listen, of course).

Amelie looks around nervously as her name is called. But she stands. Once again, can't be rude. "I ah.. uhm... I am not much of an artist Lady Farshaw." She takes a deep heavy breath and releases it with a sigh. "I can try though. I will apologize in advance for embarassing myself." She makes her way up to the front of the crowd. The woman who normally looks like a statue, actually looks VERY nervous right now. She is trying her best to gather herself. The woman who will climb a mountain with no fear, looks absolutely terrified right now. After a moment she seems to have psyched herself up and she nods once.


Snow Falling. It's Bright
Winds whipping. It's Brisk
Drifts piling. What a sight.
People gather at the hearth. I would give a 'tsk'
Adventures go neglected. Because of the cold.
Trapped in the city. Where is the fun?
Trying to climb the walls. No one is bold.
So here I am writing a poem. At least it's not a pun.
Hoping to get out soon. A hope I will hold.
Please someone. Find us something to do.
Less my cabin fever continue to brew.
Soon enough Spring will come. Dreams of heat
Then perhaps work can get done. Such hopes can not be beat.

Dear gods please give me something to climb.
Else I might climb the city walls just to pass the time.


The poem is recited in that monotone and deadpan delivery that she is known for (at least by the people who know her). Her face turns BRIGHT red and she hurries herself back to her seat and tries to hide.

Aiden Rubino slips in without much fan fair, but his eyes do search for the red-headed shot, perhaps to give her a little wave as he starts looking around for a place to sit, looking for a warm invitation at whatever seats remain for those who run late.

"My dear, I will return shortly. I was unaware that I couldn't simply send a porter with a donation later." Valerius motions to make a run to the bank.

Ailith sets aside her cloak to dress over an empty chair. In doing so, her eyes widen in notice of one royal in the wings. Her cheeks warm and she swiftly ducks her head to avoid much return notice. A small grin is given to a few recognizable faces such as the scout of the north and a minx lady. Her attention draws to the Wyvernheart and she smiles a tad, clapping when the last poetic deliver is made.

Emberly smiles a little as she nods her head a little to Valerius, "you can just let me know your intended amount and the artist you enjoy dear sir." she grins a little "Opening Lady Amelie Wyvernheart's donation jar!" she grins widely.

"Oh, Legate Ailith!" Monique spies the Legate's arrival as others turn to note her, and the Minx's eyes brighten. "If you don't join us, I'll sulk over here to no end," the Greenmarch threatens the Legate with a warm smile. "Come and meet everyone, if you haven't already. Lady Amelie Wyvernheart, Marquis Valerius Malespero, and jeweller extraordinaire, Ripley Thornburn." Her eyes catch on Aiden's arrival and if it's possible, brighten further. "And now, the inestimable Duke Aiden Rubino. We are blessed this evening! I'm going to run out of seats and have to offer up my lap," she teases, waving Aiden over and then falling silent to listen to Amelie's poem. "Oh, lovely," she laughs. "I know that feeling!"

Aiden has joined the wildcard table.

Amelie has joined the wildcard table.

Amelie is too bad hiding her face which is still all kinds of red to do proper introductions.

From the shadowy alcove, Nova leans back and curiously listens, doing so with an amused look concerning those Winter-vs-Spring notions. "Good rhyming!" is momentarily noted by the scouty lass. Then, she lifts a wave of quill to Aiden's arrival before turning that into a welcome toward the shady seats, except she is beat by Monique.

Emberly looks to the next in line and she blushes deeply "Highness, King Alaric... d.d.did you take a candle?" she asks him "I... will get you one if you have not?" she pauses flushed and excited to see the king so close.

Aiden catches the introductions in time from Monique, so that it won't have to be repeated. His sterling silver eyes pause on each individual, "I can't say I've personally met any of you, but, what a fine evening it is to change that." He looks over toward the Hostess and hears the part about opening donation jars, "Oh my. I wasn't aware I should've brought a larger purse." He takes out what he has on him, "Will Twenty Five Thousand suffice? Or is it a game to split it up between the poets?" He looks at the others who were there before him, for them to fill him in on what's to happen.

Turn in line: Ailith

"Legate Ailith?" the voice is called on the stage "come speak.

Valencia smiles at the poets rise and share their work as her staff move quietly between the sets to see that all are well served at Emberly's first Hart fundraiser. Her smile grows a little more in confidence as she observes the Lady of Farshaw hosts the proceedings with ease, staying near just in case she is needed, but seeming to be happy to let Arx's newest philanthropist set the tone for the hour.

Looking to Aiden, "Well if 25 is the opening bid, I suppose I'll have to send a guard with the porter later." Valerius smiles, knowing that he cannot compete with the Duke, but will have a laugh at least trying.

With a gentle applause for the poetry presented, Alaric shifts in his seat as Ailith is called to the stage. He grins, bringing his fingers to his lips to pitch a needlessly high whistle to encourage - or embarass, more likely - the Legate.

"Bid!" Aiden considers Valerius, "Is that what is happening?" He settles into a seat at Monique's table, spotting Rowenova, "Nova!" he gives her a warm wave, turning his eye back to Valerius, "So tell me, the rules of all this? I'm a very ashamed of being late!"

Emberly looks to Aiden and she laughs a little "just offer myself or the faith your donation and mention the poet you are supporting, to myself. Thank you for coming!" she beams a smile to Aiden as she listens for the next poet, her head nods to Amelie and she smiles "great!"

After securing her supplies, Nova slinks from the alcove to the wildcards.

Rowenova has left the shadowy alcove.

Rowenova has joined the wildcard table.

Ryhalt applauds Amelie's effort and chuckles with sympathy as she hurries off red-faced in the end. When one of the servers circulates near his table, he orders a tea for himself.

Orick is watching the recitations with a curious expression and having a quiet conversation at the plush sofas between artists.

Ripley has joined the line.

Shoulders straighten as the tall figure of the Legate of Concepts raises her chin and strides forth to step into the light. On the stage, Ailith waits as though this were at the cathedral giving a sermon -- a time to wait, a time for patience, a time to note when silence and anticipation has claimed their attention. With a tone skilled at being heard even at a whisper, she begins.

"Thump as a heart slowly beats.
Crack as ice creeps and clacks.
Drip as a tear falls and splats.
No one wakes, all asleep but me."

Her blue eyes gloss over. Chilled like the winter which whistles outside even now. Her chin wobbles and her tone breaks ever so softly.

"Ember dies with winter's whistle.
Darkness wraps a faded light.
Heavy is the burden
Hard is the breath that pants and breaks free to cry,
Why? Oh why?"

Hands fold while her fingers lace. Knuckles tighten along with the muscles at her throat. A tick to her smile lowers and her shoulders droop.

"Nothingness.
Empty.
Cold.
All alone."

Her hair falls across her face while she shivers and faintly shakes. She gasps out.

"Hopeless."

Nothing more comes from her and yet she has not moved save for a silent shivering cry. And suddenly, timed by the crackle of the fire, her head snaps upwards and her bright eyes drift across the room as she reaches out to an invisible being.

"Fire bright.
First light I see tonight.
A door opens and a hand extends.
By ivory and gold,
By gild and love,
There stands a knight,
My Solace,
My hero who safely brings me,"

Ailith smiles widely now,

"To my new home.
Safe and sound.
A new heart,
Bright as hope."

She bows and softly walks off the stage, a performance made on behalf of orphans, a poem of rescue and love. And to avoid more notice, she slips in a seat behind the King. He is the best shield.

Upon hearing what he needs to do, Aiden nods and then ohs softly to Monique and Rowenova, "Have you see this coat yet? I just acquired it not too long ago. I'm always looking for details to pair with it-" his eyes flick to Ripley, "And you, good man, were introduced as particularly the type of person to fulfil such needs." He smiles at Rowenova, "It's been too long! We should go for a winter hunt sometime. Scout the lands a little. Fly a little." He winks, then turns toward Amelie, making sure to note, "I will support you with a donation, as I found that poem to be quite entertaining. Thank you for your time in writing it."

Ailith has joined the plush, comfy sofas.

Resolute, an Oakhaven bloodhound arrives, following Kastelon.

Applause swell upon the conclusion of Ailith's performance and Valencia whole heartedly joins them. Dark eyes dancing, she nods warmly to the woman as she retakes her seat upon the sofas near the grand northern fireplace.

Emberly smiles to Aiden as he modles his frockcoat and she claps to Ailiths performance "what a great performance by our Legate ... i now open her tipping jar!"

Amelie looks up to Aiden, and blushes deeper. "Thank you my lord. I am not sure it is deserved, but since it is for the children I will not argue." Poor girl just can't escape this poem thing.

Kastelon eases in from without, some snow clinging to his cloak, though he's keeping Resolute close at hand as he's moving just away from the door. Wary hazel eyes watch the room for a few moments, as if he's seeing how far into the poetry event he's arrivng...

Kastlelon as you enter you are told you can get a candle from the bag, and that you may get in line for speaking, or donate for your favorite poet. (We can do +donate or you can give silver to Emberly with the name of your favorite poet attached. be sure to page me if you +donate)

Kastelon gets A sensual holiday candle from A Sparkling bag.

Turn in line: Alaric

Emberly looks to the queue and she flushes brightly "His Highness King Alaric.." she introduces the man who needs no introduction.

Aiden regards Ripley with a touch of disappointment, but then smiles with a nod, "That is precisely how I came across this coat. I should like to see what you have. What was the name of your--" he quiets a bit as it appears Ailith has taken the stage to recite her poem and he fully pays heed to an old friend. His lips turn sad, hearing the beginning of the poem, but near the end, he's clapping heavily to applaud the courage to get up and recite such a poem. "That deserves a donation as well. I'll keep it at twenty five, thousand. Well done!" he calls toward Ailith, turning bak to Amelie, "Sure it is. You took time out to write it and get up there to tell us all. I merely tuck mine away in a journal and bury it so deep, no one will ever find it."

After what Valerius tells her, Nova smirkingly notes. "I am not a Lady, but thank you." says she. She curiously regards Ailith with mixed emotions, the somber parts certainly drawing a concerned look from cobalt blues, but then a bright smile is suddenly inspired by that turn around at the end there, and Nova lifts up enthusiastic applause! Then, she soon regards Aiden along with his new coat. "That is one well made coat, indeed. Aye, it has been too long! Could we go with Tarik? He told me about how you had his back a while back." Backs. So many backs. "Thank you. From me. Even if it was 'before me'. Hah!"

Ailith flushes from her comfy seat and mouthes a few words to an old friend born of flight and only grounded by feet. Her blush rises in notice of Rowenova and she quietly dips her head in gratitude.

There is no doubt that Aiden's generous gesture causes a murmur of awe and appreciation in the crowd that was already in full force as the King himself rises to take the stage. In fact, more than a few curious eyes turn to the prince upon his declaration, including that of Valencia. A small but gracious smile is offered and a gentle bow of head is bestowed to him along with a whispered, "Thank you."

Emberly is overheard praising Aiden: very kind of you!

When his name is called, Alaric rises from his seat beside Orick and Ailith. He clears his throat and adjusts his tunic before he moves to ascend the stage. "Before I begin, I ask that you all be gentle in your judgement of my poetry. I am most assuredly not an accomplished poet as Legate Ailith or the others who've graced this stage before me."

Valencia is overheard praising Aiden: A lover of poetry and kind and generous heart, indeed.

With his tea having arrived while the next poem is being recited, Ryhalt sips from it as he listens to Alilth's performance. He claps for her also. As the King goes up, he watches curiously.

"If you ever see one made with griffins, you best tell me-" Aiden notes to Rowenova and well, the entire table. His eyes brighten at the mention of Tarik, "OH yes, we must go with him. It's been too darned long since I've seen that man." He exhales a breath, "I really should just hire someone to be a double for me, so I can just go on merry walks with old friends everyday!" He grins, but quickly scrawls out his promise to send now 50,000 silver to the charity fundraiser. "This is what happens-" he notes, "-when strong confident women come together and raise money for the most vulnerable." The promisary note is given to people helping with the charity fundraiser, to make it's way to the hostesses. He leans back to catch a whisper from Ailith and reaches out to squeeze her arm in an affectionate gesture.

Amelie looks over and sees Kastelon enter. "Lord Keaton." she bows her head from her seat. "It is good to see you." She turns to Ailith, "Thank you Legate. I usually don't write them. I normally like to run around outside. So this has been a little out of my comfort zone."

Emberly looks over to Aiden and she smiles a bit "I liked your poetry." she says before she looks over to the king as he prepares to share, "I am sure whatever you have is wonderful Highness."

Aiden is overheard praising Ailith.

Aiden is overheard praising Amelie.

Alaric delivers his poem, sharing his thoughts with care, eyes downcast toward a piece of paper:

So what is it that decides, how we act?"
Are we tied, with puppet strings to our past?"
Sleep sets the scene, so tuck me in tight."
With dreams made of light, otherworldly delights."
Every day’s a blessing, a revelation
Every Moment’s a choice, between wakeness and sedation
Everything’s impermanent, it’s all a vibration
Without hesitation, Love is my salvation


Kastelon finds his way to a spot in the shadows where he's feeling like he's unobtrusive, while giving Resolute room to settle himself as well. Amelie's greeting isn't missed, and he gives her an upnod as he's settling in, and greets her with a quiet, "Lady Wyvernheart," But it's very quick that his attention's diverted towards the main event of the evening, the poetry, and he's listening, voice stilled.

Emberly claps a little as she hears the kings little poem "Lovely!" she says as she motions "His Highness's jar is now open."

Ailith is overheard praising Alaric.

Emberly is overheard praising Alaric: Beautiful Love poem from the king!

Alaric descends from the stage as quickly as he came, stopping briefly to receive a missive from Zelda. His brows lift, skimming over its contents.

Orick has joined the line.

Aiden lifts a hand to Valerius' offer, "Certainly I'll share." He also agrees with Valerius on the point about Ripley and his creations, "I've heard a lot of crafters struggle to keep up with commissions and filling their stores with goods for those of us who shop hop. I'll be very delighted to look over what you create. As long as there's certainly, pieces for men to wear. Perhaps more earrings... or cuffs... hmm," he stops himself, "But then that's too close to a commission isn't it." He stops himself with a grin, turning an eye back to Valerius, "I can say that's a very good way to keep warm." Amusement is shared and he chuckles softly. He must have had sugar before this!

Emberly waits for the donations for the poem to come in before she advances the line, "Next up Ripley Thornburn."

Ailith stills when His Majesty speaks, anticipation built as her smile grows. Thoughtfulness expresses by the faint lines on her brow before she joins the applause upon his conclusion. "Love, hope, and faith," she murmurs to herself then murmurs over to Orick in response to him of earlier.

Turn in line: Ripley

Oh. It's his turn...

He lumbers up from the table to where the poets are asked to speak from. He takes a few minutes to stand and think before he starts to speak, running a hand through his hair. "To stand within the shadows of greatness, beset on both sides by skill." Ripley stands there with his glass of har liquor and lifts it up. "Bloodied hands from prick and blow, the smell of wet wool and hot iron." His free hand scratches at his jaw, fingers sinking into the ginger beard. "Forever do I strive to keep my head above. To not disappear into the darkness cast by them, they whose praises are sung along the streets by silk and scrap alike." The cup comes down and he takes a deep swallow from it. He looks into the bottom of the glass, swirling the remains of the amber liquid.

"Glinting in that night they cast. I huddle for want of the warmth that those words provide. The flicker of delight that ignites the ego." He takes a deep breath and then puts the glass with it's last mouthful to the side. Fingers tent upon the top, to cage the liquid in before he releases them and walks back toward the table he came from. "Only embers, only coal."

Orick is quiet when the King performs and he gives him his full attention looking somehow studious and inspired; perhaps to share one of his own poems.

The audience applauds with abundant zeal as their ruler and King concludes. Valencia joins without hesitation, offering Emberly a reassuring nod of support from her spot in the back of the room. A difficult act to follow a regent one would think, and the little keeper of the Hart holds her breath to see who will be taking the stage next. The man who rises next is given a quiet study, her hands now folded gently upon her lap.

Ryhalt has left the table by the fire.

Emberly greets everyone who comes in, "feel free to get a candle from the bag as you enter, and get in line if you wish to share. We are accepting donations and the speaker with the bigest donation will be our winner tonight!"

After a moment, Alaric continues on toward his original position on the sofas. Along the way, he lightly knocks at Aiden's shoulder with a rap of knuckles in familial passing before taking his seat to watch with anticipation for the next act.

Icelyn has joined the shadowy alcove.

To Aiden, Nova half grins, "The man who raised me used to say: the only way that he could be any better was if he were twins. That was in response to questions about how he was doing." She lets out a hearty laugh before then smiling softly. "I will let him know that you said so." Nova waves off the offered apology from Valerius. "No worries. You were not the only one, so... figured I should clear it up rather than let the perception linger further." Then, she looks up toward Alaric. "I like that one!"

Amelie quiets up for now and listens to the poets as they recite in turn.

Icelyn slips in as quietly as possible, as Ripley recites his poem. She pauses at the back of the crowd to listen to its entirety before, with a little smile, she makes her way over to fetch a drink and take refuge in one of the quiet, shadowed alcoves at the edge of the room.

Aiden applauds for his cousin, "Well done! Alaric!" He is quite informal but sometimes, family can get away with that, before he sighs softly, "Well I should have to match what I've already begun. This is going to be difficult isn't it--" Then he gets a knock on his shoulder and his one arm reaches out to grab Alaric in a strange half seat twisted hug -- but he lets the man off with a beaming grin. "Alright, that does it." When Ripley takes the stage, he quickly beacons for more parchment!

Aiden laughs at Rowenova, "Being a Twin, could be quite handy, actually!"

Icelyn gets A sensual holiday candle from A Sparkling bag.

Turn in line: Orick

What Ripley speaks certainly draws curiosity from Rowenova, a head tilt, too. There is a moment of thoughtfulness, and she quickly writes that one down!

Rowenova says, "Quite handy!"

Emberly collects the donations making notes and then she smiles breathing softly "Lord Orick?" she asks looking to the last man in line

Valerius has joined the line.

"Oh dear, no." Orick gets up and seems extremely flustered by the title confusion even if he /was/ sitting with the King. "I'm no Lord." He tells the room as he approaches the stage, speaking loudly his introduction, "Professor Orick Vinerosa, Guildmaster of the Apothecary College. Arx chapter." Orick climbs on stage with the look of a practiced orator but not a performer, his stage presence is a little stiff and his delivery is stilted in the pacing of one unaccustomed to verse and instead at home listing alchemical forumualae, "I call this, Prepare."
"Measure twice, pour once
Careful now,steady hand
Work not suited for a dunce
Its focus we demand

Prepare your ingredients
Grind the poppy down to dust
Careful now, with expedience
This elixir has been known to rust." When he's done he gives an awkward little bow (you don't usually bow after academic lectures) and turns to quickly flee the stage and retake his seat on the sofas.

Alaric is overheard praising Ailith.

Alaric is overheard praising Emberly.

Alaric is overheard praising Aiden.

Alaric is overheard praising Orick.

Valerius is overheard praising Ripley.

Ailith applauds Orick, rising to her feet. What brilliant smiles as shown by the Legate tonight.

Emberly grins "opening the donations for the Guildmaster!"

Speaking highly of those who have caught his eye, and the hostess with the mostest, Alaric regrettably makes himself scarce from the event, yet again harassing Aiden with a familial squeeze of the shoulder on the way out.

Alaric has left the plush, comfy sofas.

13 King's Own Guardsmen, Zelda, the royal messenger leave, following Alaric.

Kastelon's hand rises to stroke at his beard as he's listening to the poetry that's being read out, looking at least a little pensive as if he's deciding what's most to his liking...

Emberly has joined the line.

After writing down the deep poem that Ripley recently spake, Nova looks up and smiles brightly his way. "That was well done." says she before looking up, doing so with a double blink after having heard that Guildmaster title. "Really?" Though, she shuts up after that surprised response. Hearing out the Alchemy poetry, she pipes up, "And, you, too! Well done!"

Again the crowd offers hearty appreciation for the poet known as Ripely, some left breathless by the simple words. As he takes his seat Valencia smiles and nods, clearly finding something interesting in his prose that catches her attention. Turning back she prepares for the next artist.

Turn in line: Valerius

Emberly looks in line and she smiles "Marquis Valerius Malespero" she says quietly as she smiles a little and she smiles

Amelie stops a passing server and asks for a glass of milk. Seems she is recovering from her battle with the stage finally.

Aiden shrugs his shoulder at Valerius, "It doesn't need to be on hand. As long as you make arrangements with promisary notes, that'll suffice. So much money shouldn't be simply carried around, but guarded, and brought over responsibily, or simply transferred in the bank." He smirks at Valerius, "Good luck. Seems your up!"

Emberly looks about "while we wait for Lord Valerius I want to thank you all for coming and attending my first event here in the city, I thank you all for attending and supporting the poets that have come out this evening."

The man walks up to the stage, and nods to the crowd. "Apologies, this was a challenge by a new friend, and thus a bit on the spot." He pauses and collects himself, lightly biting his lower lip. Then taking in a deep breath.

"Attraction.
light touches.
That look.
biting lip." A slight pause, then another deep breath,
"deep seas of green, that one is lost within.
desperate, choking.
drowning, cursed, light, ectasy." Another breath,
"blinded, pain, caressing.
fingers, wet, lips, wishes." Catching his breath, and looking out to the crowd, but one person his gaze is lost too.
"A sea of red.
twisted, dances, seduction.
slipping, laughing."

Valerius smiles, "exhaustion.
rest.
admiration.
beauty."

He waits for a moment, then takes a bow. His gaze still lingering to just one person in the room. After the bow, He struts back to the booth.

Emberly grins as she listens to Valerius "great.... words" she is flushed and she nods "now I wonder if I should speak of Pounding rain or Dragons wings." she chuckles blushing deeper as she coughs. "donations open."

Valencia listens with rapt attention a hint of a flush coming to her cheek and again join the the gathered crowd as they present their approval of Valerius' colourful and rather sensuous prose. Softly she drops her eyes then turns to speak to one of her barmaids. A soft nod and word of thanks shared as she turns her attention back to the performances.

Amelie also flushes a little at the subject matter, "Quite. Sensual." Her milk comes and she hides behind it.

"Its just a little something I wrote as a needlepoint for the college, it hangs in my classroom to remind students to perform their studious with care and never haste, there is too much opportunity for danger when you rush an elixir." Orick goes quiet though, speaking to Ailith inbetween the performances in soft tones, watching when Valerius takes the stage. "I've been told some of the scents I create are like poetry but I believe that is just another way of saying they are works of art."

Ailith applaud upon the conclusion of Valerius' performance and jestingly says, ever so soft, "I cannot wait to share this with her."

Aiden's attention focuses on Valerius' voice when the first words are recited. He's quickly looking about to see who those words are for, brow lifted, trying to follow the gaze of the man up front. He's soon grabbing onto his scarf and dragging it off his neck, placing it aside and reaching for some of that shared wine. "I feel like, with that one, I've been a part of a trist!" He laughs softly, raising his glass to his lips.

Nova curiously listens. She wryly grins about the Lycene poem until aroud the sixth line after which she eyebrow raises. Then, she just looks a touch terse before blinking back toward Monique then toward Valerius. She lightens up, though, leaning back and huhing quietly in apparent contemplation.

Kiera meanders into the hall quite late and looks around,sidling up to kastelon as quickly as possible, though she pauses midstep at valerius' verse her cheeks turning a slight pink and her gaze growing wistful

Emberly says, "are there any other speakers?" she asks softly "I will give my poem for the night ..." she says quietly"

Ripley is listening, another glass of liquor slurped down, a few beads of it glistening in his beard before he rises. "Lords, Ladies. I'm going back to my hole. Maybe there will be griffens." He grumps out to the table he's at and then starts to slink slouch to the door.

A thoughtful look crosses Kastelon's features before he's reaching for some paper and a writing implement himself, starting to scrawl out a promise for donation as he's listening to the poetry that's being recited, lest he forget perhaps to donate to the cause the event is supporting.

The line has been dismissed by Emberly.

Emberly delevers her poem,
The Dragons wings
spread open to fly
they wrap and unfurl
in the winter's sky.

The Dragons wings
mighty are they
drawn around me
it is here they will stay.

Safely protecting
Loving true
the Dragons wings hold
until dawn anew.

Kissing
Cuddling
Touching more
the fire within
starting to soar.

The Dragons wings
True, they Dream
Fiercely bold
to the Maiden he holds.

Emberly moves off the stage and she smiles brightly as she is a few shades deeper color than her hair. She grabs a drink "I hope you all enjoyed tonight!"

Ripley is overheard praising Emberly.

Ripley is overheard praising Aiden.

Ripley is overheard praising Valerius.

Icelyn steps forward slightly out of her alcove to better see the stage, nodding approvingly as the poets speak. Then she applauds as Emberly leaves the stage.

Nova snaps out of her momentary trance to look up and curiously regard the Farshaw's poem. "Definitely did!" From her current seatuation, Nova rises up and ultimately claps for all the poets (whether they know it or not).

There is a sweet silence from some as they listen to Emberly's words. Valencia, who has seemed to enjoy all the great works presented this evening, herself seems taken by them. A smile tickles her lips and she nods with warmly, rising to her feet to offer the event's hostess a cheer, "Bravo, my Lady. Beautiful words and a beautiful event! Thank you so much for all your work to help the orphans of Arx." Turning to the otheres she lifts her glass, "My friends, good folk all, a toast to our talented poets, our generous donors and to our hostess and her first Hart fundraiser. Bravo!"

Ripley has left the wildcard table.

Kiera is overheard praising Valerius: passion is an infectious thing

Amelie nods at Emberly, "It was quite fun Lady Farshaw. Even if I did embarrass my self." Does she even know what fun is? She doesn't sound like she does. She takes a drink of her milk. She turns to Kastelon, "You do not have a poem for us Lord Keaton." She pauses a moment, "And you missed mine."

Valencia is overheard praising Emberly: Bravo and encore! Beautiful words and a beautiful event! Her work to help the orphans of Arx and the Hart is inspiring! So grateful for her.

Ailith claps politely, celebrating the event in itself. "Thank you, Lady Emberly, for arranging such a lovely event of wit and word which benefits the orphans across the Compact. From the Faith unto you, we hold you in the solace of our hearts for your generosity and kindness."

More notes are scribble with promises of silver! A lot of silver! Aiden signs his name and passes it on so that those gathering the totals for each poet are well aware of his contributions, without shouting it out of course. Then he starts to applaud, too, "I do hope someone is going to make a collection from all this poetry, so that others can read it later on? Some of these, should not be forgotten."

Kastelon applauds, in the wake of the end of the poems - it seems like the right thing to do, and the right moment to be actually making some noise. And then he eases from his seat, so that he might come over to Emberly where she's blushing. "A lovely poem, and a lovely event. A shame I was late, but I would like to commit ten thousand silver towards the cause, if that would be of help." He gently presses a paper with that promise of such into her hand. But there's a bit of a frown to Amelie. "I'm not a man of words. And I apologize - I was detained elsewhere. But I did make it here."

Icelyn makes her way across the room as people begin to mingle and enjoy themselves, seeking out Emberly. She bows to the Farshaw lady when she's near enough to be heard. "You're a wonderful host," she says. "Thank you for inviting me. It was a fine evening."

Kiera is overheard praising Emberly: an ode to thhe ancestors. beautiful

"I agree!" Nova says to Aiden about the collection which needs creating then ultimately tells Valerius. "Going to the bank next door. Be right back! Then, gonna eat more of that free food you been ordering for us!"

Rowenova has left the wildcard table.

Sir Floppington the Soulful Hound leaves, following Rowenova.

Sir Floppington the Soulful Hound arrives, following Rowenova.

And, just like that, Nova and Flop are back (at fitting messenger speeds).

Orick is smiling at all the praise flying around the room and he offers his own to Lady Emberly after her performance with soft applause.

Another nod of appreciation is offered to Aiden as Valencia takes a sip from her glass and sets it aside so she might offer Emberly her congratulations. "Well done, my lady. So very well done. Thank you for this. I am so happy you are part of our Hart. I cannot wait to see what other great things you will do here," she nods enthusiastically before stepping back to allow the others to share their congratulations and praises. Moving back, she finds herself next to Kastelon. "My Lord, it is lovely to see you. Wasn't it a lovely event?"

Orick is overheard praising Emberly.

Amelie blinks at Kastelon, "No it is quite alright. I embarassed myself with enough people, one less was ok." She takes a sip of her milk. She turns to Emberly, "Plan to do these for each season?"

Emberly says, "our winner is Ripley with Ailith close behind!"

Rowenova says, "Right on!"

Rowenova has joined the wildcard table.

Aiden has left the wildcard table.

3 Rubino and Zaffria guards leaves, following Aiden.

A blink of surprise on his part when the hostess of the Hart appears at his side, and there's a pleasant - and indeed pleased - inclination of his head. "Highness," he murmurs softly. "It was indeed. I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to be here early to give my greetings before the event... as I was explaining to Lady Wyvernheart," and he gestures to Amelie to clarify, "I was a bit detained. And not due to my better half."

3 Rubino and Zaffria guards arrives, following Aiden.

Valencia is overheard praising Ripley: A fine poet among a bevvy of beautiful poets! Bravo!

Valerius has made his way to the host, a good summer peach wine in hand. "Lady Farshaw, thank you for hosting this event. It was a delight." That little bitting of his lip as before sinks into a smile.

Ailith freezes with an owlish widening of her eyes. It's a tick of a smile until all of the stiffness melts. Phew! She did NOT win. And she politely dips her head to carry on the conversation by the sofas, soft and amusing judging by her grin.

After sliding into her seat at the wildcard table, Nova pulls a togo box from her side and then begins to place meats inside the partitions therein.
Shifty eyes.

Kastelon smiles from where he's standing amidst the crowd, the inclination of his head when he notices Valerius drawing near as well in the press around Emberly. "That was very brave of you to offer your thoughts so," he says, in a sincere tone. "I enjoyed it."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Rowenova before departing.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Rowenova before departing.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Rowenova before departing.

Icelyn has left the shadowy alcove.

Kiera walks up to approach emberly "A lovely event.I assume you also have ties to the valardin fealty I've yet to meet. Kiera Wyvernheart"



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