Fable - Ask A Fae Moon on the Rise

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Moonrise: The Party Begins!

Vaer Nhimei

High Lord of the Winter Court
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Underhill was alive with color, sound, and light. The city under the mountain had been transformed for the full moon that heralded the new year by the Pnerian calendar. Its streets were decorated in lanterns, painted with sigils for fortune and luck or to look like Pneria and Lessat. Fae from all corners of Arethil had come to celebrate. Like many faerie holidays, there was a mix of seelie and unseelie in the throngs that poured into the city to eat, drink, and make merriment. The lines between Summer and Winter (for once) seemed to blur as they came together for the occasion.

There was plenty to entertain. The Eventide theatre was putting on shows around the clock, featuring stories of the Winter Court’s formation and several legends and myths revolving around lunar fae. The Scarlet Hall was preparing for the release of the lanterns at midnight, when the new year began. The Lover’s Gate was busy with traffic and the Red Guard was patrolling the surrounding forests for any sign of trouble -- and dealing with any individuals who didn't have the right papers to get into the fae city.

Yet as the last day of the new year festival, it was the Midnight Market that was taking the spotlight. Courtyards were bright with private parties, the social elite meeting for soirees and the commonfolk packed in to see family and friends at casual gatherings. Merchants had their shops open and their best wares were on display for one of the busiest nights of the year. Stalls were set up for fae to purchase and decorate lanterns before their release at midnight. The streets were flooded with the smell of delicacies from all over the world, and performers filled the air with song and invited passersby to dance.

Nestled in what could be considered the most central part of the market district, The Lunar Tiger was poised perfectly in the middle of it all. Normally a popular restaurant for its tea and noodles, tonight fae were standing in a neat queue into the street to purchase its famed drink: Wu Wei-Cai’s forsythia tea. An Underhill favorite, it paired perfectly with the holiday mooncakes being sold on every corner, but it would only be available until midnight.

It was here in the busy streets in front of The Lunar Tiger that Vaer had chosen to set up for the whole affair. He sat on a cusion at a low table beneath a gold awning. Bowls of black and white stones were placed on either side of an inlaid grid pattern in the wooden tabletop before him. For days he had waited to entertain challengers -- heroes, as they were styled for this event -- seeking placement in the dragon’s parade this evening or ownership of an elusive Emperor’s token. The coins had no value but could be exchanged for any single item for sale in the Midnight Market. All the heroes had to do was beat Vaer at a game of his choice.

As the patron of this year’s festivities, he was styled the First Moon Emperor. A fancy title that only meant he had funded most of the public events.

Good publicity, his steward had said. Great for business. His accountant might disagree.

His challenge was one of many running during tonight’s festivities. He could see fae dressed in their finest traditional Winter garb, parading through the streets with enormous jars filled with coins. Each coin represented a single vote and a shot at being the forsythia bearer, carried on the litter at the front of the night’s parade to the Scarlet Hall. They would be the one to light Nanasre’s lantern to officially welcome the new year, and the coins they all collected would go toward next year's festival.

More covert were the Ghosts. Festival volunteers slinking between buildings and groups, they wore masks that heroes could claim by one of two methods: by secretly untying them before the Ghost detected them, or by confronting the Ghost and successfully answering their riddle. Victorious heroes could collect the Ghost’s ribbon, and the hero with the most ribbons at the end of the night would be named the Lord of Revelry. Until the dawn of the second day of the year, they would live like a High Lord in Underhill -- a title which meant free food and drink wherever they went for that singular day. A bold challenge not taken up by the faint of heart.

The air was alive with music and mischief, the players were all in position, and outside of the cavern the moon had risen over the horizon. It was going to be an interesting evening in Underhill.
 
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The short woman slowly waltzed along the outside of groups, the silvery shimmer of her skin a beacon against as she deftly kept herself from being unmasked by another. There was healthy laughter from her, even handicapping herself and not using her powers to detect those sneaky beings that made to take the ribbon from her mask.

The colors of her outfit were a soft contrast against the vibrant colors that surrounded her. Vitality ran rich and vibrant through the area, a tantalizing thing for her. Her ability to control the random bursts of blind consumption had been put long behind her with some effort. No thanks in small part to her employer, and the strong will of her own.

Mortal villages consumed out of boredom, or hunger, a fleeting memory now given the work done to secure herself from her more base desire to consume. Even with those celebrating, and the presence of bodies around her, she dared yet to enjoy the time. Enjoy the company as her employer had instructed her to do.

She snaked her way through the throng of bodies with focus upon seeing the Emperor of the event. If only to pass judgement on their presentation, as one should always seek to represent oneself in a glorious manner. And perhaps see the challenges he had laid out for when someone managed to get the ribbon she bore.

The worst part of where the Emperor was stationed, was on the busiest street in front of a restaurant. The worst place for a ghost to be caught out. The small form scampered through, bobbing and weaving as she neared the Lunar Tiger, a place she had been summarily banned from in her younger years.

And something she had not bothered to remedy in her older years, having little more than come to visit her family and see how the mad honey bees had been doing along with the chocolate sales. So up the street the small woman came careening as people were caught between the crowd around the Emperor, and those chasing the small ghost.
 
Sitting on a rooftop above the festivities in a dark cloak, Vulpesen simply enjoyed the bustling crowd below him, watching the folks move between alleys and stalls to enjoy the delights around them. In terms of assignments, it easily one of the very few that he felt he could truly enjoy, such was the difference between the warlock and his patron. A being of secrets, Varos didn't do well in such crowds and thus was happy to send a more social representative in his stead. Idly, the Zorren wondered if his master's brothers would be in attendance as well. Wulren would likely be avoiding such frivolities as he preferred crowds to be in battle, but Rerreno the diplomat may be found. Either way, he wasn't here to schmooze with those of the Veran court, but rather to enjoy himself and spread a good name for his master.

In terms of spreading a good name for his master, Vulpesen had already gotten an idea as to how he might accomplish such a goal and the object of his plan had finally seemed to reveal itself. It was now that his training both in his previous life and his current one would pay off. Moving over to use the peak of the roof for cover, Vulpesen started to trail Evellynn from above, only occasionally peeking his head over from its concealment to ensure that he had not lost track of her. All he needed was an opportunity to get close.
 
Greeting mother moons,
I arrive with your gifts.
Written in glowing runes
To close these growing rifts.
Letters of honest desire
Free from all my ire.
Witness my devoted love
From your vantage high above.
Wanting only to see your faces
So that I may know true graces.


Quacey looked over the lines once more. Ink was not yet dry. His words an offering to the twins that had graced his birth. They were the only other witnesses to his birth and the only ones to offer his mother comfort that night. To ignore them on this sacred day and not offer them something heartfelt would be the deepest disrespect a fae could ever show.

Finally closing his journal, the festival around him was already in full swing. Stalls and stands of the infamous Midnight Market were opened all around. Games played. Food and drink freely offered up to those in need. A happy place by all accounts.

This was as the fae should be. It was as all should be. Happy. Content. Satisfied with their lives.

Yet even here that tugging call could be felt. Those lost wandered in the colors and lights of the festival as blindly as the purest darkness itself. His eternal quest to provide them direction and guidance.... It had to wait. For just this night. A sacred day to the devotion of the twin moons. He could afford to enjoy it and celebrate their beauty and kindness.

With his scarf wrapped around his eyes, the duanann idly wandered around enjoying the food and drinks. A jar on his hip for people to place coins into was on his hip.

Vaer Nhimei Evellynn Vulpesen
 
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Evellynn never faltered in her running. She kept at the break neck pace, sometimes ducking between legs or dodging between others in a flurry of hair, ribbon, and robe. She did refrain from taking a sip of the joyous vigor around her, having drank from that cup on the way to the merriment in the human lands.

Flowers had wilted in her wake, trees losing a shade of vibrance as she passed, but only taking enough to weaken rather than outright destroy.

She passed by a smaller being, who pointed and laughed at the display as she cast her eyes to the Emporer upon his throne. Letting out a giggle, she danced between a group that were nearing to dropping a coin into the hip jar of a passing stranger.

Her hand snaked out, snatching the coin before it fell and ran off into the crowd.
 
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Evellynn was fast, he had to give her that, and he was fairly certain that any time on the ground would immediately mean losing her. Still, he wasn't without his won tricks. Leaning down, Vulpesen sighed softly as a familiar double pop sounded from his hips. Then with his legs licked into their secondary joints, he took off. Still keeping to the roofs as he searched for an opportunity, he started to close the distance. As fast as the woman might have been on two legs, he had little doubt that he could surpass her on four.

"Come on, get closer to the buildings. Try an alley, and give me a chance here," he growled to himself. more and more, his plan B was calling to him. But he'd rather try and snag the ribbon without a face to face confrontation. Still, he kept his eyes on the crowd that she moved through, his eyes taking in not just his quarry but also being on the lookout for competition. After all, his tracking wouldn't do much good if someone snagged the ribbon before him.
 
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Nairth San'Seya hadn't come for the festivities. Nor was his objective on this little excursion to Underhill purely one of business, as most things in his life now tended to be. He'd only looked over the festivities for a moment; they were nothing but a mild curiosity to him. Despite his indifference, there was a woman that he'd been keeping an eye on in attendance tonight. He knew not her name, only that death had tended to follow in her wake in the past. He was not risking such a widespread bout of destruction happening to the plants and animals that filled the lands around Underhill. Until these festivities ended, he would remain in the city.

One would think he was attending a funeral rather than a festival, given the droll expression adorning his face. His state of dress would at least match; the long billowing cloak of amber, with what resembled strings of gold tying it at his chest spoke to revelry and merriment even if he whom it adorned most certainly did not. Nairth may not have enjoyed being out in public like this, but he made it quite the point to look good when he had no choice in the matter.

He likely would have decided all would be well enough without him were he not distracted by the one who sat at the awning to "The Lunar Tiger" as it seemed to be read. What had been a passing glance became a double take. The male sitting on the other side of the table that seemed set up for some sort of a game was no ordinary being. He'd seen that face before, usually next to a hushed rumor or a word of warning.

"High Lord Vaer." He observed, stopping and turning to face him. His hands remained locked behind his back. His head tilted to the side, and a small smile grew on his lips. It was his go to for forced smiles. "I've heard so much about you, but I certainly never expected to see you set up at a little table like this. Whatever is it that you have going on here?" It would be fallacy to say half of the things he'd 'heard' about Vaer were true. His entire existence seemed to be a tornado of speculation and paltry dinnertime rumors. Actually getting solid knowledge about the High Lord was next to impossible, even for one directly under Oberon. "Oh, how rude of me." He reached up to brush some of the hair from his face. "I am Nairth San'Seya. Chamberlain to King Oberon. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
 
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Never disappointing, as a participant or a spectator, the Lunar New Year was living up to its expectations. Vaer caught sight of a small masked figure darting through the crowds. Ghosts were easily distinguished, but this one’s diminutive size made her a worthy quarry for any brave hunter. Particularly the one trailing her from the rooftop.

Without an opponent of his own, Vaer was taking an interest in observing the Ghost hunt when a figure approached his booth. He looked up at the approaching figure, one eyebrow hitched upward in curiosity. Finally, a challenger. Or, at the very least, conversation. He stood and bowed at the waist. Even as a High Lord of the Third Order, he was still positioned well beneath a member of a King’s retinue. Nairth San'Seya was one of the few people in all four Courts he would truly defer to.

He was also one of the few individuals who carried a similar... stain to his reputation.

“Lord Chamberlain,”
he said as he straightened. “A pleasure indeed. While I’ve never had the honor, I would be a sorry excuse of a High Lord if I did not recognize a member of His Grandeur’s retinue. Welcome to Underhill, my Lord.”

His smile came easy, but his eyes remained clear. When it came to etiquette and court polish, Vaer excelled. He had not gotten this far on the threat of sharp teeth alone; a black shuck was not easily elevated to become a peer to duanann and sidhe. He curled one fist against the small of his back and gestured to the table and cushions with the other.

“I have the rare privilege of being this year’s First Moon Emperor. I have sponsored the events and am the challenger to win an Emperor’s coin.”


Carved into the table was a subtle grid pattern. Bowls of black and white stones were placed on opposite corners, awaiting the next game. Each Emperor got to choose their preferred game, and Vaer had chosen a Winter favorite he excelled at: Go.

“I have yet to lose this evening, but the night is still young,” he added with amusement as he returned his attention to the Chamberlain. “Have you come to visit Underhill for the festivities, my Lord, or have you come on business?”
 
The small being was giggling madly as she cut through the crowd once more, taking a side street along the northern edge of the restaurant beside her. An easy enough escape route, made more fun with the faces that seemed fixated on her. The air was near to full with joyful energy, a tingling along the entirety of her body at the easy meal around her.

Stupendously easy given her part in enticing those other beings to excitement with her antics. While it was hard to mistake her for another with the mask off, her masked visage gave little inkling to her ties to Underhill.

And appearing as small as she was, she entwined herself in with a cadre of children that were playing a hopping game with squares. The opening had been made as another finished the sequence, their small faces turning as the sound of feet came from the way behind them.

Another giggling fit was had as she danced along the squares adding a twirl midway through.
 
Vulepsen growled as his quarry passed like lightning through one of the side streets and towards a gaggle of children. He was losing patience as it became more and more obvious that his original plan was less than optimal. While he wasn't quite ready for plan B, perhaps plan A could undergo an overhaul. Crawling over the ridge of the roof, Vulpesen crouched down, using the extra joint in his hips to bend his body and legs lower than most any bipedal race. His body was coiled like a spring and as he prepared his body, his mind reached out to the magics around him, condensing the shadows beneath his feet and preparing to release them in a quick burst.

Taking a deep breath, he locked his golden eyes on Evellynn and leaned back into his haunches while his fingers twitched in preparation. Years of tying knots on the sea would now be put to the test. Every bowline that had kept him from falling to his doom, and every quick hitch that had secured sailors and equipment. All the practice of tying lines and ropes would now be put to undo one single knot.

He watched her go through the pattern of the square, smiling softly at the playful twirl as she danced, seemingly unaware of the figure on a nearby roof. Still he waited until she finished her little game. One she left the squares, Vulpesen sprung. His legs burst with energy as shadow and muscle propelled him through the air like an arrow from a long bow. His eyes locked on his prize and his hands outstretched towards the simple of ribbon of her mask. If all went well, he would loosen the mask and tumble away with it in his grasp. Perhaps it wasn't the most covert of tactics, but it certainly held its stealthy ways in the manner of being unexpected.
 
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The Chamberlain's eyes slid shut as the shuck bowed to him, the thin lips of his face losing their forced smile, leaving only a smirking remnant of amusement in it's place. His position was a high one, but he was not of the illusion that he had any authority over one such as this, even if the High Lord technically did defer to Nairth.

Vaer was a mere black shuch before a duanann, but he had something that Nairth did not: Connections. Still, he supposed he did appreciate the gesture. Nairth raises and arm before bowing in return, curtains of silvery hair falling over his shoulders. "Please, none of the formalities. I'm here in a strictly unofficial capacity, Nairth is fine."

His hands slid behind his body, interlocking at the small of his back as his gaze wandered out to look over the beautifully decorated Underhill. No expense was spared at events like these, and he had to admire the skill with which they'd so meticulously prepared the city for festivity. On occasion he'd assisted with such displays in elven land, his skills much more suited to bending and twisting the environment around him into extravagant and intricate displays of earthly beauty.

"If you must know." His voice was little more than a murmur amongst the sounds of revelry echoing through Underhill, "I have it on good authority that a person of interest to me may be performing as a Ghost tonight. I merely wanted to observe." Like he'd be caught doing any celebrating; Nairth had gained a reputation for being a loner, even within his court. But then, he had suspicions that the High Lord knew of why that might be.

His tongue lightly flicks against the roof of his mouth, his mind wandering to his grove. His friends were the nature that surrounded him when he laid to rest each night in the depths of the forest, for they would never betray him as those he'd loved before had done so brazenly. Even so, his desire to return home was superseded by a need to sate his own curiosity. Would there be any harm in a bit of competition?

"First Moon Emperor? A rare privilege indeed." He spun to face Vaer, his hands swinging to his front to flare up his robe as he lowered to spot across from him. "If you're going to defend your coin in Go, certainly you'll need a better challenge than the common rabble." A gentle hand reaches out, taking one of the stones in-between his fore and ring finger. "Would you like a handicap?"

Vaer Nhimei
 
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His golden gaze did not wander, but remained attentive as Vaer watched and listened to the Chamberlain with a keen interest. Whether or not they indulged in the gossip that ran rampant between courtiers, a wise High Lord always had their finger on the pulse of the Courts. Socializing with an official of a neighboring Court was a rare opportunity that Vaer did not intend to waste.

He inclined his head in acceptance to the request for informality. He nodded more sharply and smiled broader when Nairth revealed that his visit was personal. The Chamberlain seemed reluctant to admit it. Vaer made a note of that.

“If you wish to observe until they are freed from their evening’s obligations, I may be able to direct you to the district of the Market in which your Ghost of interest has been assigned.” Vaer liked to break expectations of him and be more than the stiff upper lip gossip made him out to be. A peace offering. One the Chamberlain could accept or decline at his own leisure. He leaned in gently to speak softer yet and there was a gleam in his eyes, flashing like coins. “Of course, this would be cheating if you were interested in collecting any ribbons.”

Vaer's genial grin retained its mischievous edge as he was finally challenged. "A far better challenge," he mused. Finally! A good game to make this experience truly memorable. He swept his arms out to fan his robes gracefully around him to settle neatly as he sat upon his throne once more. Passing the bowl of white stones to his opponent, kindly making the assumption that he was the stronger player, Vaer moved the black bowl closer to himself.

Without needing any further prompting to begin, he picked up a black stone and laid it confidently on an intersection.

"How do Oberon and his Court fare these days?" A competitive, thoughtful game could drag out for an hour or more. It would not do to have such rare company in near silence for the entirety of the game. "His absence was noted at the spring festivities. It is unlike him to miss his Court’s pinnacle celebration. I hope all is well?"
 
He shook his head, not worried in the least about the ribbons the Ghost's carried. Nairth wasn't the type for competition, the game that Vaer had before him had merely proved to be quite an adequate distraction from the drain that being away from his home tended to afford the forest-dwelling Fae. Flicking the stone he'd already picked up back into it's respective bowl, he bowed once more to the shuck sitting across from him. This time not as a greeting, but as a gesture of good faith before competition.

He dragged his hands along the amber folds of his cloak, smoothing it as he spoke smoothly. "That won't be necessary; I've no reason to believe direct action will be in order here unless a worst-case scenario occurs." He murmurs, doubting that such a turn of events would occur. Still, the chance was real enough that he'd shown up, wasn't it? "To be entirely honest with you, I'm not entirely sure of said person of interests name."

He picks up the white bowl, setting it to his side softly before outstretching a hand to his right. A bulbous red flower placed inconspicuously in a jar a few feet away quickly lengthens, it's stem stretching to meet Nairth's touch as though it were a desperate pet. "Some while ago, there were a string of mortal villages throughout several continents left ravaged, completely devoid of life. Nobody was killed in the conventional way; it was more as if the very life had been drained from their bones." He holds his palm open as if to tell it to halt it's movement, then jerks his thumb behind him.

The flower turns, his bloom facing the street behind Nairth as though it were a guardian keeping watch over it's charge. "I've been told it was a young woman, and rumors reached me that this same woman is participating as a Ghost. These odd occurrences have ceased, but certainly you can understand my trepidation, when Underhill and it's surroundings are so teeming with life?"

He made his own move, placing a white stone to the bottom right of Vaer's own. Go had once been a favorite of his, one of the few social activities that he found he truly missed. "Oberon is well enough. I actually believe he's hoping to open me up a bit, sending me on social gatherings one after another. He is aware of my distaste for them."

Vaer Nhimei
 
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Vaer returned the bow and the game began. There was a relaxed air between them that was a refreshing change of pace in court circles. He didn't get the feeling that he had to be on guard with every word he said -- even if the duanann across from him was an official from an opposing Court. A tactic, perhaps? Or just the nature of the individual?

He listened with interest as he related the nature of his concern and the Ghost he sought. It did not take long for Vaer to figure out about whom he spoke. His pleasant expression betrayed none of his realization, but his eyes did scan the crowd for her.

“I understand completely. It is an incident of import beyond your domain. Such a threat in our home could endanger our citizens or, worse, could potentially put fae in the sights of disgruntled mortals.”
Vaer looked thoughtfully across the festivities, a moment of sobriety entering his expression.

“Perhaps we can discuss this in more detail after our game. In private. I believe I know the individual you seek and can facilitate such a meeting. If it is not too presumptuous, I would like to be involved in that conversation.”
The Hound inclined his head respectfully. Such matters interested a member of the Sluagh.

He was glad to move away from the idea of Evellynn committing atrocities and onto Oberon. His amusement returned as he surveyed the game board.

“Scheming as always, I see. I should expect nothing less of His Grandeur. Nevertheless, I hope you can at least find us diverting. I shall strive to make my part of your evening enjoyable; it would not be very becoming of the First Moon Emperor to set a bad example for Underhill.”
He placed another stone, doing his best to facilitate a pleasant diversion.
 
Vulpesen

While tempted to make a difficult effort of the ordeal, there was also the matter of the game with which she wished to challenge the First Moon Emporer within a reasonable hour. Or risk losing out without ever having taken the chance.

The change in the air around her, the feeling of vitality that drew near, all signs of her split second pause to glance down at her feet being enough to let loose of the mask that covered her face. Aside from the challenge that had her attention, the sheer amount of tantalizing energy that resounded through the streets and by-ways of Underhill would eventually become to much.

Regardless of how studious she had practiced self control, she dared not tempt the fates.

The being that caught her mask got a sincere pat of victory from her. At least after the small and entirely put upon display of wailing and falling to the ground as though truly defeated. Standing with dignity, she brushed off her outfit before scurrying off to seek the game master now relieved of her duty.
 
The relaxed nature of their game was not one of Vaer's imagination; Nairth had no reason to be competitive or hostile towards the High Lord. It was true that their courts were widely considered to be 'competing' or 'opposing'. However, Nairth never subcribed to such a view. No, Nairth believed that all Fae were fundamentally equal creatures. All were powerful and fearsome in their own rights, but they were nothing without the land they all lived on. Every Fae, from lesser to King, relied upon Arethil to grant them with the air to breathe, and the water to drink. None of them held absolute power, and all of them were far more 'mortal' than they liked to admit.

Nairth took his time thinking about his moves; he did not rush his placement of stones. He had not played Go in some time, but he had once been quite a lover of the game. The time he spent thinking allowed him to notice the change in Vaer's expression as he spoke. "Well, as I said these occurences have ceased. I seek this woman purely because I wish to know why it is that she did such things. I do not aim to persecute." Were she still actively killing and ravaging villages, perhaps that would not be the case. Now, she merely had captured the San Seya's curiousity.

There was also the issue of Oberon. Nairth claimed to the other courts that the King was well and healthy, merely sending Nairth out on tasks as a way of improving his relations with the other courts. It couldn't b farther from thr truth, however; Oberon was dying. Nairth wasn't sure why, or how it had happened... But witihn the small circle who did know of the King's true condition, the eyes were resting on Nairth to take up his duties.

"Yes, well... I feel as though maybe this is the distration I needed. The Spring has been a busy place as of late, moreso than you might imagine." He was obviously somewhat off put by the topic of Oberon, but aside from a slight change to his voice and a more rough method of placing stones, showed little tell of it. "If you have information so sensitive that it would best shared privately, then it would certainly behoove me to join you. I feel out battle of wits nears it's climax. I wouldn't worry about Underhill, though. It's a pleasant enough place, with just enough of my own tastes present to make it pleasing to my senses."

Vaer Nhimei