Open Chronicles A Dark Dalliance (Snacks invited)

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Lionel Armon

Silver Lord
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It is said that the shadows of nobility are deeper than any darkness, some say it is a darkness that casts a shadow on darkness itself.
In the depths of the noble cast's deepest darkest secrets, where non pure of heart dare to delve too deep, are found the slave merchants, the prostitution rings, the assassins, the thieves, the con artists, the war mongers and the weapons dealers.
But at the bottom of those pits, if such an abyss of secrets had a bottom, lay the Vampires wreathed in mystery and ensconced in intrigue.

The very few that reach this depth of the dark abyss of nobility are an unlucky few. Whether they came to destroy monsters, or were brought in for the feast, those who enter the den of vipers never return. As protected by law and legitimacy as they are by thralls and slaves.

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Just as human nobility hold feasts and balls to increase their status and prestige among their peers, so too do the vampire nobility of the night hold their masquerade ball. In these events very few humans are allowed to attend in safety, and when such a human does attend it is clear that they are not to be touched, the power of such individuals is without question.

This soiree takes place deep underground in an extravagantly decorated ballroom, no windows and no natural light, only a hundred lamps light the subterranean shadow ball. A rainbow of inhuman eyes glowed brightly in the wavering dusk lighting as the fatally beautiful creatures partook of the pleasures provided by their host. Dancing on the ballroom floor to haunted music, feeding on the abundance of thralls for refreshment, or lounging about like a pride of lions on the couches and cushions lining the walls.

Lionel Armon was only one such lion, a beautiful alpha wrapped in pure white finery that matched his skin. A white button up shirt with no jacket open at his chest and embroidered with fine silver tracery, a theme repeated in every article of clothing he wore down to his white boots. A silver eye mask fashioned like the wings of a swan cover his porcelain fair features. He lounged on the red velvet couch while members of his house were seated in chairs or cushions about him, all similarly dressed in white that stood out in stark contrast to the red and crimson colors of the ballroom.
A young human woman dressed as a thrall lay beside him as if asleep while he absently cradled her head against his shoulder, the two small marks on her throat were the only sign that he had been feeding from her.
But she didn't hold his attention as his silvery glowing eyes scanned the room, mildly alert for any sign of danger either subtle or overt even here at the heart of vampire society.

He placed his fingers against the throat of the girl in his arms and traced her weakened pulse up to her jaw. She didn't have much left and he wasn't in the mood to kill even this thoroughly enslaved creature. The albino raised himself off the couch and adjusted the girl to a comfortable position for sleep while her body recovered, she was doomed to die of this existence eventually but it needn't be one entirely of suffering if Lionel had any say in the matter, or by his hands if he could help it.
Now standing and confident that his household will make sure the thrall is undisturbed he shouldered into his jacket and made his way to the refreshment table.

The host provided thralls for refreshment at the table, but also had them serving other drinks for other tastes and preferences. Lionel took a glass of red wine and sipped it thoughtfully as he watched the masked dancers slowly sway and spin to the mellow haunted song now playing. For some vampires time passes far too quickly and they constantly work and labor in the world, these moments help those individuals to slow down if only for a little while and enjoy the moment.

Lionel went and leaned against a pillar to continue his observation while he slowly took little sips from the wine glass in his hand. He wasn't here for the entertainment, that's for sure. His mind was on business and he was here to see what advantages there were to allying his house with the vampire nobility. As of yet non have dared or deigned to approach him or his household. He didn't doubt that the presence of an unknown faction of vampires at their private soiree drew much attention, but the question was who would make the first move?
 
Adagium mozied around the even in a rather nice looking crimson and black embroidered outfit with a gold and black owl/raven mask to accompany the outfit. To be fair it was a exquisite mask which he had procured elsewhere to settle a debt but he won on it so it was his. Never try to do cheap magic tricks on a scholar not to mention a wizard who specializes in all types of magic.

In has hand was a gobleg full of blood. He technically wasn’t breaking his house’s rules of, “Dont feed on the unwilling.” Since he had no idea how this blood was... procured and he simply asked a thrall to get him some! That was all fine, besides this was a mingle and drink em fest, everyone was willing for the most part.

Then he spotted a vampire leaning against a pillar out of the corner of his eye. He smiles and casts a spell of invisibility when he was out of detection from him and silence on himself then a little spell that hide his scent. The elven vampire then sneaks up behind Lionel Armon and pokes him on his shoulder from above on the wall then flips down infront of him and chuckles, “So I take it thou art the one who brought all this.” The elven vampire says twirling his wine glass of blood in his hand.
 
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Velera entered the grand ballroom, the sourceless music in 3/4 time signature was familiar to her, and she was tempted to find a partner to take her to dance as she had a long while back. She wore her usual dress, a V-neck dress with the bottom of the V almost reaching her navel, and diamond cuts at her hips went from just under her ribs down to her upper thigh, seductive, and questionable, but not so revealingly as to be inappropriate. Her face was covered in a narrow mask with black feathers protruding from each side, and about her neck was her Lord’s way of marking his concubines, in other words a silvery steel collar with no seams, a permanent decoration.

She walked with a good poise and a slight, seductive hip sway. She walked into the ballroom with a few other guests, and moved over to the couches to await someone to speak politics with, or someone who’d ask her to dance. Not far from the men against the pillar, and her sharp, vampiric hearing was listening into their conversation, just in case she could get information to earn some favor from her host, or otherwise get information she might give to He right Master back home.
 
Isabella entered quite quietly, her beautiful black and white swan inspired dress forming over her body perfectly her hair up in a half bun curled at the bottom. Her mask was a swan embroidered with jewels and feathers. She roamed the darkroom, the music loudly playing in the background as people walked around talking and observing the beautiful castle. Isabella stood by herself close to the stairs awaiting for someone to speak to her
 
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“So I take it thou art the one who brought all this.”
The vampire that appeared before him had an unorthodox way of introducing himself, Lionel had to smirk at his antics though. Seems interesting things happened in these parties after all.
"Thou wouldst be mistaken, friend. I and mine are guests same as thee and thine."
He smoothly mimicked his speech mannerisms and formally introduced himself with a slight bow.
"I am Lionel, Lord of House Armon. We're foreigners to Arethil which is why you've never heard of me. I'm here seeking relations among others of my kind for mutual benefit."

His silver eyes picked out two others in the room, one with a seductive dress with a slaves collar, and another with a scar over her eye.
He made eye contact with both of them in acknowledgement before returning his attention back to the vampire before him, he appeared like the scholarly type.
He raised his own glass of blood to his lips and took a sip, indeed nothing compared to taking it from the source while it was still warm. There were thralls about, some being fed on and some serving, the only problem was you couldn't hold a thrall in a goblet.
"Do you belong to a particular house? Or do you go by lineage here? I'm still a tad unfamiliar with the vampire customs of this land."
 
Isabella Looks up, beautiful beaming across the ceiling complete with a chandelier. She makes her way through the crowd curtsying at a few people as she passes a soft smile on her face. She picks her gown off the ground slightly as she walks, her mask was in her other hand. She made her way over to him with a slight bow as she puts her mask over her face slightly. "Bonsoir." She says in french making eye contact with Lionel. She let her dress fall back to the ground.
 
Victoria was agitated and bored. It was a very unusual combination as the two emotions tended to combat one another, yet here she was simultaneously wishing she could leave and wishing that something interesting would happen.

It was not typical of Lady O'Connor to shy away from grand social events. Indeed, she usually flourished at such things, having been raised in high courts both mortal and undead and perfecting the art of conversation and subterfuge. Nonetheless, there was much at stake tonight, and the impact of the evening's events weighed heavy on her.

She had reclaimed her homeland and rebuilt it from a whisper of its former self, but there was still much work to do. The local farms were well tended, the sea trade was beginning, and even a trade route to Alliria was in the works. All this being said, Greyrock was still in a fragile state. Victoria needed to secure more allegiances if she was to continue to grow her power. More importantly, she was nearing the point where other vampire holds woulds start to take notice, and she would need allies for protection as well as trade.

She cast her rubescent eyes across the dim room from behind a silver fox's face. Or was it a wolf? She hadn't paid much attention to the mask.

She had not seen any members of her former coven here tonight... but she was sure they were around. The group had fallen considerably in the past century but its leaders had been old and powerful and she did not wish to relive those memories, nor meet those from whom she'd defected.

She did notice a startlingly pale man (which was a major feat among vampires) who was speaking to another individual that had popped out of this air. She looked to the side of this parlor trick and admired Isabella's swanlike dress. Finally, she cast a long and shameless look at Velera and took a sip from her goblet to quench the thirst that her image brought on. She was a lovely creature, but the collar around her neck said quite definitively "do not touch."

The best thing about all of these people was that they appeared to be alone. Victoria had no desire to deal with massive covenants, she wanted true partners. She eyed the collar, but then figured a dance wouldn't hurt, and set down her glass to approach the woman. As she did, she turned to Isabella and offered a gentle nod. And indication that she had noticed her, and would be speaking to her soon.

"Excuse me," she opened in a voice of silk and ice, "Would you care to dance?" She extended a slender, pale hand.
 
xcuse me," she opened in a voice of silk and ice, "Would you care to dance?" She extended a slender, pale hand.

(Attire?)

Velera looked up at the red haired vampire, and just as she had gazed her over, she returned the favor and looked her up and down. With a gentle smile that was somehow sly. She reached up and took the hand. “I’d love to. Where do you want your hand? Hip or shoulder?”

She stood up, graceful as she always was. And she allowed herself to be lead to the dance floor. “I carry the name Velera. And what might I call you Mistress?”

Velera was polite although a little mischievous in her mannerisms, which put a light, seductive purr into her words. She enjoyed making people squirm with her teasing words, and every now and then they cracked. Long story short they made her ‘regret’ her teasing. But she never stopped doing it.
 
“My name is Adagium.” The vampires looks at Lionel with a wondering look, “I am sure they go by houses or clans here. Its just do confusing because the continents are so big so it depends on where thee is. Mine is just a tiny family so not many people hear of it.” He shrugs, “Some are bad some are good just depends on who thee doth gets.”

"Bonsoir."
(French exists in this world???)
He looks at the female vampire who approached them and gives her a curious look. “Though my family are more of the good kind and we specialize in learning more of the world thy lives in.” He adjusts his collar with his free hand waiting to see if there was anything the female vampire wanted to say.
 
Attire:
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Victoria let her face dip just a hair further into mischief as Velera accepted her hand and asked where she would like to put it. A flurry of cheeky remarks came into her mind, but she settled for simply placing her right hand firmly by the woman's hip, on the small of her back. With her left hand she held Velera's right, and lead them through the slow, swirling waltz on the open floor.

She felt the hair on her neck prickle as she was called "Mistress." This one certainly knew how to probe right past her defenses, and she held a little tighter to her waist. "Victoria. Victoria O'Connor," she answered matter-of-factly.

There was no sense in batting around the bush, for Velera's collar was glaringly obvious, and after a gentle twirl Victoria asked, "Tell me, Velera, to whom do you belong?" She nodded her head at the steel. It was quite fine, and whoever had laid claim to this woman was clearly someone of import.
 
“My name is Adagium.” The vampire looks at Lionel with a wondering look, “I am sure they go by houses or clans here. Its just too confusing because the continents are so big so it depends on where thou art. Mine is just a tiny family so not many people hear of it.” He shrugs, “Some art bad some art good just depends on who thou doth finds.”
“Though my family are more of the good kind and we specialize in learning more of the world we live in.”
"Sir Adagium? A pleasure. I'm sure how you define "good" and "bad" in our world would be a very interesting topic, but such a conversation can wait for another time. Are you here representing your family? I would be very interested in forming relations with another house... Like I said, for mutual benefit."
He leaned against the pillar again, looking every bit like a lion toying with his prey yet with an air of professionalism one finds in most politicians.


The scarred vampire girl approached their conversation, Lionel overlooked the lack of decorum since he was the outsider and not currently in his own court with his own sovereignty.
"I'm Isabella, And what might I call you?"
He turned to her and gave a slight bow before raising her hand to his lips, kissing it, "Lord Armon, of House Armon. A pleasure to meet you, Lady Isabella."
 
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"As yourself." Isabella smiled as she greeted the Vampire. She had her goblet in her left hand and raised it to her mouth taking a sip she was very agile the way she moved was almost like a dance of some kind. all her movements seemed to be light and airy as if she were floating. She pulled her silky black hair onto her shoulder and looked around the room once more admiring the beauty of the castle.
 
The clanking of metal sabatons by the ballroom entrance. And the Third King of Reikhurst, Jürgen Kaiser, entered into the underground ballroom.

It disgusted him. The mere sight of all this. Of vampires (perhaps fittingly) deluding themselves during this masquerade ball of their own devising. They were all once mortal men and women--elves and humans and all the rest. Now they pretended at being these things, at being civilized. They were not dancing with their partners tonight, no--they were dancing with the ghosts of their pasts, trying in vain to reclaim what they had lost.

Not Jürgen. He did not delude himself, nor would his efforts be in vain. For in his right hand he held the Bloodstone--always held it. And it was the key by which he would reclaim what had been lost. He had given his word, had he not? And if he needed to kill every last living thing that walked or crawled or swam or flew upon the face of Arethil and feed them all to the Bloodstone then he would do it. Anything and everything he would do to see his word brought to fulfillment. The road of honor was hard, yes. But he walked it. When he was done, none could say in truth that Jürgen Kaiser did not.

But the time was drawing close. Almost six years now since his offering of the slaughter of Reikhurst to the Bloodstone, and six--specifically six years--was a special number. The Bloodstone knew it. That quiet malevolence within the red orb did not speak, no, but its will could be known. Felt. Like a feeling of dread in a dark wood, that feeling of hungry eyes in the dark, penetrating through the pitch black and burrowing just under the skin, feasting on your every movement. In this way, felt by Jürgen as much in the back of his neck as in the back of his mind, did he know what the Bloodstone desired. What its instructions were. What he needed to do for it to grant his wish.

And Jürgen would spare no expense nor take no risk as the time grew nigh, if such could at all be helped. To this end, Jürgen sought what no doubt some of these other vampire lords and ladies sought.

Alliances.

The Ritual, once begun, could not be interrupted. This was knowledge imparted from the Bloodstone, imparted like the sinking teeth of a spider's bite while one dreamed. Jürgen in his hundreds of years spent as a Slaughtern Vampire had grown ancient and powerful, yes (the acquisition of the Bloodstone of tremendous help in this regard), but he would need protection. A host of elusive Mistweaver Vampires Jürgen had seduced to his cause to bolster his own host of Slaughtern Vampires, but more would always be good. For he had heard news of the Great Ones--the ancient dragons Drakormir and Neha. News of their rising, and of their almost immediate defeat. King Jürgen Kaiser was determined not to allow such a fate to befall him. Not when he was so close.

Sometimes these alliances (or singular champions) were trivial to acquire. Some vampires were simply beguiled by the alluring thrum of power radiating from the Bloodstone, and in their awe swore loyalty to Jürgen. Others took some convincing, quid-pro-quo offers of aid in their goals: like the ill-fated Vampiric Army ("fated" as such due to their own buffoonery) that had attacked the Kinniger Duchy. But in the end, all vampire negotiations with one another seemed to revolve around the same thing. Power.

This likewise offended Jürgen's Reikhurstan sensibilities. But he played the game as it needed to be played.

Until he need not play it anymore.

* * * * *​

Jürgen Kaiser was flanked on his right by his wife, Queen of the Third Sofia Kaiser, and on his left by the former Lord Commander of the Golden Blade from over four hundred years ago during his reign, Lucius Reik. Sofia wore an elegant gown, held her clawed hands demurely in front of herself, and maintained a smile that--should one peer beyond her masquerade ball mask into her eyes--seemed to ceaselessly be restraining a quivering fright. Lucius bore a stern demeanor, his hand rested on the pommel of his sheathed arming sword (the hilt, notably, made wider to accommodate the elongated finger-claws of the Slaughtern strain); he wore his full plate armor save for his helm, the masquerade ball mask perhaps looking out of place while clad in such battle raiment.

"I think you shall have a seat, my light," Jürgen said to Sofia. This, without looking at her.

"I shall. It is all well," Sofia replied, a sheepish obedience in her tone.

"Escort her." Jürgen said to Lucius.

Lucius nodded. Said, "Sire." And linked arms with Sofia and together they walked toward the seats near an edge of the ballroom.

Jürgen (not having bothered to wear a mask for the masquerade at all) took a moment to survey the ballroom in its large expanse. He observed the circular gatherings of vampires engaged in parley, his eyes shifting over those dancing in favor of estimating these little islands of discussion around the ballroom.

He ruminated on his options on who to approach. On who might be worthy of his time.

And made a decision.
 
Are you here representing your family? I would be very interested in forming relations with another house... Like I said, for mutual benefit."
“Pleasure Lord Armon,” Adagium gives the pale vampire a chuckle, “I would love to have such a conversation with thee.” The vampire takes a drank from his goblet watching the vampire king and his wife with a spark of thinking in his eye before returning his gaze to Lionel.

“I am the youngest of my house, but I am sure an alliance can be arranged between our two houses. As long as our interests align, I see not a reason why our houses shalt not be allied.” He’d motion towards the party with his goblet.

“However my lord, I believe such a discussion can be saved for after the festivity. There is always a time for the agreement to take place in a less on the morrow... Would’st thou agree?” He gives Lionel a questioning look with a slight smile.
 
Victoria let her face dip just a hair further into mischief as Velera accepted her hand and asked where she would like to put it. A flurry of cheeky remarks came into her mind, but she settled for simply placing her right hand firmly by the woman's hip, on the small of her back. With her left hand she held Velera's right, and lead them through the slow, swirling waltz on the open floor.

Wordlessly Velera gripped the woman’s shoulder as though she were a man, and followed her step to dance. She hadn’t danced in a while but she had retained a great deal of skill in keeping the step with grace and precision. The feeling of the woman’s hand on her bare hip was precisely the reason for wearing such a dress to begin with, it helped to attract the attention of lords and ladies.


She felt the hair on her neck prickle as she was called "Mistress." This one certainly knew how to probe right past her defenses, and she held a little tighter to her waist. "Victoria. Victoria O'Connor," she answered matter-of-factly.

The reaction was a common one, she addressed everyone as Master or as Mistress unless they were thrall or servant. But it usually had similar results. The fingernails that scraped her hip made her shiver, which she exaggerated ever so slightly. “Mistress Victoria. Would I be correct in assuming you are a clan head? Or at least close to it.”

There was no sense in batting around the bush, for Velera's collar was glaringly obvious, and after a gentle twirl Victoria asked, "Tell me, Velera, to whom do you belong?" She nodded her head at the steel. It was quite fine, and whoever had laid claim to this woman was clearly someone of import.

Nosdyn, is the name of my Lord and Master, but he was not able to attend, he may show up later, but then again he may not. So I was sent in his stead, to establish ties to other clans, and to... improve existing relations.” She explained with a grin. Then with a flirting voice and a subtle purr she said, “Perhaps you’d like to know how such improvements are made? I might even be able to show you.”
 
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Velera fell into the following dance role naturally, but this was not suprising. She was obviously well acquainted with high courts and events, as was any self-respecting vampire as far as Victoria was concerned.

“Mistress Victoria. Would I be correct in assuming you are a clan head? Or at least close to it.”

"Of... a sort," Victoria hesitated in her reply. She hadn't really thought of herself as leading a clan or coven, and she was not sure how she felt about such notions. True, there were other vampires living at Greyrock, and true she was ultimately in charge of all whom resided there, but unless they were actual servants the vampires were not strictly bound to her.

Her thoughts continued. Could she be a leader if she chose? While the vampires at Greyrock Castle were free to travel as they pleased none had actually left. She had provided a safe haven and a ready, controlled supply of food. More considerations began to surface, more dangerous thoughts.

Velera pulled her from her thoughts with her unspoken promises. Victoria couldn't help but feel humbled by how easily this woman was able to rile her, and Victoria tired to focus more on the task at hand as they danced, and less on the woman's skin in her hands.

"I am sure you could show me many things," she cooed back, "Tell me, what does Lord Nosdyn offer from his domain? I have subjects to look after, and I am afraid pleasant words will not feed them."

As the song drew to a close she heard the clatter of armor and was drawn to the jagged outlines of Jürgen Kaiser and his cohort. She curled her lip at the appearance of the Slaughtern vampire. They were hideous and malformed in her eyes, with great jagged claws that left no decent sense of subtlety. How dreadful to remain entirely isolated from society, for surely they could never mingle with the mortals even for sport.
 
"Of... a sort,"

"I am sure you could show me many things," she cooed back, "Tell me, what does Lord Nosdyn offer from his domain? I have subjects to look after, and I am afraid pleasant words will not feed them."

“Alliance and support if you need it. He is a generous and kind hearted man despite his position. If you’re subjects are hungry, I know full well that he would be more than willing to feed them. He’d even allow them sanctuary in his hold if you accepted vassalage. I wouldn’t be honored to introduce you two Mistress Victoria, he wouldn’t definitely be willing to help you and your people.”

Velera pulled her from her thoughts with her unspoken promises. Victoria couldn't help but feel humbled by how easily this woman was able to rile her, and Victoria tired to focus more on the task at hand as they danced, and less on the woman's skin in her hands.

Velera smiled knowingly as Victoria tried to move her thoughts elsewhere, and in response guided her hand a bit lower on her hip, even past her hip and just a short ways back to a very particular place in her anatomy. At the same time, she pressed her lower body closer to Victoria’s, “Something the matter Mistress?”

As the song drew to a close she heard the clatter of armor and was drawn to the jagged outlines of Jürgen Kaiser and his cohort. She curled her lip at the appearance of the Slaughtern vampire. They were hideous and malformed in her eyes, with great jagged claws that left no decent sense of subtlety. How dreadful to remain entirely isolated from society, for surely they could never mingle with the mortals even for sport.

The new vampire lord reminded her of someone, not someone she’d had met, but someone who hadn’t been described to her. She couldn’t quite place it, but she knew that she and him were not supposed to make contact.
 
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Victoria grimaced, almost imperceptibly, as she immediately realized her mistake. She didn't want them to think her people were starving and that her kingdom was destitute. She would never secure alliances if she could not convince the various lords and ladies of these halls that Greyrock was at the very least stable. It was stable, but it had just recently risen above subsistence. She needed more.

"I do not require charity, nor do I intend to bow to anyone," she said with a bit of renewed fire in her voice. "I simply seek a mutual benefit."

“Something he matter Mistress?”

It had been quite a while since Victoria had met another vampire that was so forward with their affections. She suspected that Velera's coquettishness was a deliberate bargaining tactic... but that didn't mean it wasn't working. "Do not think I don't appreciate the offer. Your master is certainly generous," she replied and abruptly and aggressively slipped a finger beneath Velera's collar and pulled her closer by the neck. "I wonder, does he share his toys?"

She flashed a quick smile of fangs... and let go, turning to head back to the refreshments nearby Lionel and Adagium. "Have a drink with me, dear, and we will speak business."
 
"I do not require charity, nor do I intend to bow to anyone," she said with a bit of renewed fire in her voice. "I simply seek a mutual benefit."

Velera bowed her head, “apologies Mistress, I meant no offense. I simply mean to say that my Master has been, and more than likely still is, willing to provide for those who need it. Mutual benefit is definitely something he’d agree to, and you are not required to bow to anyone. Forgive my ill considered words.”

It had been quite a while since Victoria had met another vampire that was so forward with their affections. She suspected that Velera's coquettishness was a deliberate bargaining tactic... but that didn't mean it wasn't working. "Do not think I don't appreciate the offer. Your master is certainly generous," she replied and abruptly and aggressively slipped a finger beneath Velera's collar and pulled her closer by the neck. "I wonder, does he share his toys?"

Velera’s breath hitched, intentionally, she had expected such actions, or something similar. And she knew that one such as Victoria enjoyed having their prey completely at their mercy and fearful, so she did as she might to appear so. She looked Victoria in the eye, “I’m here to improve relations am I not? What better way to do that than to share his toys? In other words, he does. If you’d like some time with it, we might find a more private place to be. I even brought some minor equipment with me should you be of mind to use any.”

She flashed a quick smile of fangs... and let go, turning to head back to the refreshments nearby Lionel and Adagium. "Have a drink with me, dear, and we will speak business."

Velera followed obediently. So far, it was going well. Victoria seemed inclined to negotiate, and if she were to ‘partake in her master’s toys’, she might even be more inclined to agree. That coupled with how much Velera enjoyed such activities, this was shaping up to be a great night indeed. “Yes mistress.”
 
“I am the youngest of my house, but I am sure an alliance can be arranged between our two houses. As long as our interests align, I see not a reason why our houses shalt not be allied.”
“However my lord, I believe such a discussion can be saved for after the festivity. There is always a time for the agreement to take place in a less on the morrow... Would’st thou agree?”
He nodded and raised his glass in agreement, "You're right. Indeed there are few things more droll to speak of than politics."
He finished off his glass in a final gulp as the Slaughtern vampires made their appearance. His eyes were immediately drawn to the king and the magical stone in his possession... By Arethil's standards, that stone was incredibly powerful he could feel its radiation even from across the room... Not to mention the power that came from that vampire, a certain power that came with age in vampires, perhaps even approaching Lionel's own power in age.
He watched them carefully, taking note of where the queen went with her escort while the king studied the room.

While the king studied the room Lionel studied the king, measuring him, assessing him. His was a bold strain, one of monstrous consequences which to most meant a shorter immortality. He's survived this long and obviously stood in authority, Lionel knew that baring with which he stood, his father wore it better, but he recognized it clearly.

Some vampires were a little intimidated by the arrival of the Slaughterns, but Lionel offered a silent invitation with a nod should he look this way.
In the meanwhile he noticed the two ladies approaching them. With a smile he welcomed them while having the serving thrall fill two glasses for them.
"Greetings, ladies. I don't believe we've met? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lionel Armon, a foreigner to your courts."
He bowed respectfully to them.