Open Chronicles Bastion of Gold & Power

[Elise Virak]

Vel Anir - The Keep of Anir

These events always made her wonder. Where would the knife come from?

One of the servants perhaps.

Maybe a passing royal with a poisoned needle. It was hard to tell. In Vel Anir you could be talking to the kindest old woman one moment and the next she would at your throat doing her best to claw her eyes out. She had heard stories of that sort of thing, though it had likely just been her tutors trying to make her as paranoid as possible.

Elise knew that no one would commit any sort of murder out in the open tonight, not here anyway. This was meant to be an event for all to attend, at least those rich enough to buy themselves entry.

In attendance were not only members of the Great Houses, but Merchants, Knights, outland Barons, and even a few mages who had amassed wealth somewhere. Elise had even heard rumor that a few...Elves had been invited, even though the very thought made her throat slick with bile.

This was the face of the 'new' Vel Anir, the one that wanted nothing more than Peace and economic virtue among the worlds great cities.

It was a lie of course.

She knew that, the other members of the Great Houses knew that. There was always something just beneath the surface, something planned, something plotted. As she sipped her wine and watched those around her she couldn't help but wonder what it was. House Virak was not one of the four in the Alliance, and thus their own plans differed. It could have been any number of a hundred things.

Not that it would matter in a few months when she took the crown.

OOC:
-This thread is essentially one big party
-It's open to everyone, but if you're at the party you must be part of the Upper-class(Rich Mage, Noble, etc) or a bodyguard/servant of said class
-Please be nice
-Have fun and do some Political scheming!​

 

[Douglas Haley]

_________________________

Agron Salim, near the edges of the major gathering.

The quiet prattel of nobles, lost in the murmurs of slowly intoxicating minor lords with nothing better to do than gossip on this machinations and that plot of subterfuge. Nobles often fancied themselves the greatest of such ideals, that politics was a game of cloak and dagger that none could best them in, and it was evident in their wealth and supremacy; the greatest amount of proof they could ever require. A folly on their own part, most simply inherited greatness from men many generations past that had done all the groundwork for their idle hands to now rest upon gold.

Agron sipped the wine as he thought on this, his cold, callous expression wandering the crowds with a carefully prodding gaze. Eimur had sent him here to make friends, but if there was ever a person who detested the idea of playing diplomat more it was Agron; yet still he held a reputation here most could not deny. His participation in decade’s old feuds between various nobles had garnered him the name “The Plague Doctor”; the cause of more deaths than most cared to consider possible in such a war.

It brought him fear, infamy, but respect from those who understood that war was a blight on mankind, and reducing the suffering of war through gentle tactics only extended the damage, the suffering of all those involved. Total war, absolute destruction of the enemies morale through all means necessary; it was the only way to save lives, no matter what the weak wanted to think. With a shake of his head, the one armed mage idled through a crowd, taking care to allow his magically infused prosthetic to lead the way.

Better to touch nobles with cold, living steel than his own hand. A few gave him glances, meeting his eyes before quickly moving them away, and as much as Agron would like to think it was his stern gaze, it was very much so likely they feared the paleness they carried. Vel Anir was no stranger to the myth of the witch children, the pale-eyes of the ocean, Demon-Mages of the Kavosh; a myth he did little to quench with his war crimes.

With a simple shake of his head, he moved to the edge of the crowd, waiting idly for his female compatriot to return, or for someone of interest to show up.

Elise Virak​

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

To say the past few weeks had been harrowing was an understatement.

Only a month ago, Valdyna had been enjoying life as a fairly carefree student at the Arcane University of Alliria, studying for her third term exams that would qualify her for the various specialty curricula that had piqued her interest. She'd been planning on starting with an in depth study of the Enchantment school at the start of the next year, but instead had been called home in the most urgent manner.

A company of Weiroon soldiers with a trio of Dreadlords at their head marched onto the university grounds and demanded Valdyna's presence. Once she was brought to them, they told her they were there to return her to Vel Anir, that her Father had been in an accident and needed her to return.

The vagueness of the demand, along with the sheer authority three Dreadlords commanded, had Valdyna complying, though she was quite angry to. She packed only what she would need for the journey, intending to come back and resume her studies.

The trip back to Vel Anir was almost depressingly swift, as the Dreadlords utilized an arcane conveyance to speed the journey. When she returned, her father had already died. Her mother, too overcome with grief, had secluded herself and made Valdyna take over the social duties of the house almost the instant she returned home.

- - -

None of this put Valdyna in a good mood, yet here she was at a party with a smile on her face. She'd used a small enchantment to aid her charm, not feeling like being very pleasant, but knowing that she was the face of House Weiroon for the time being.

Valdyna entered the main gathering point of the party, let her eyes roam over the assembled people, and then walked over to Elise Virak with a smirk that was almost real. House Weiroon wasn't in the Alliance that held sway at the moment either, and as such she got along a little better with the other minority houses, though never too friendly.

"Fancy party..." Valdyna said by way of introduction, "..you look good, Elise." She hadn't seen the other in the years she'd been absent from Vel Anir, both on adventures and at University.

She took a glass of wine off of the tray of a passing waiter and took a sip.

"How have you been?"

 

[Elise Virak]

"Weiroon." She greeted the woman by her second name, a push of the arm if there ever was one. Elise was not here to make friends, though as she said the name she realized her folly.

It had been so long since she'd actually needed to play the Game of Houses, so long since she'd actually needed to maneuver and place the people around her. It was a mistake, one that she would have to correct as quickly as possible. House Weiroon was one of the other two not part of the ruling Alliance, and therefore a useful tool.

"Valdyna." She sounded warmer this time, her voice tinged with just a hint of shock. "It's been so long I almost didn't recognize you. I thought you were one of those awful cousins of yours."

That could be taken as either a compliment or an insult, depending on how much the woman liked her cousins. "It has been...trying as of late."

Elise said in answer to the woman's question. "I'm sure you've heard of the passing of my brothers."

It had been quite the bit of gossip within Vel Anir at the time, though she wasn't entirely sure that Valdyna had been present in the city when the event had actually occurred.

Valdyna Weiroon | Douglas Haley​

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

A slender, ginger brow rose slightly at the cool greeting, followed by the far warmer one.

Valdyna grinned slightly, knowing that her cousins could be...boisterous, to be forgiving.

"No, my cousins are on a short leash since my Father's passing." She spoke of it, and had a pain in her heart that she couldn't have been here. She knew they had their differences, that her Father had wanted specific things for Valdyna that she, herself, didn't want. However, he had been her Father. "I hadn't heard that your brothers had passed, I am only recently returned from Alliria. I am so sorry, Elise. Please, let me know if you need anything, House Weiroon is in mourning as well." She took a sip again, keeping herself from making a macabre joke on giving her house a good price on mourning decorations.

After the sip, she lowered her voice, looking Elise Virak in the eye and turning completely serious.

"Seriously, Elise. I know our Houses have never been anything but allies on various plots, but if you need someone..." How did one offer a place for another to be vulnerable in the political environs of Vel Anir. Valdyna was known to be less than interested in such machinations, but having been absent for years, she didn't know how many remembered that part of her. "...if you need to get away, for moments or more, let me know. I seek no leverage birthed in your grief."

 

[Cuut'Thul'Lulu]

Five servants try desperately to stop the advance of the giant of a man.
"Please sir you can't just walk in"
The man stops, and bends over to look the little man in the face.
"And why not, eh?" his voice boomed, with an obvious and heavy accent.
"W-We n-need to know a little about y-you, and you can' go in with an axe..." The poor mans voice grew slowly quieter as the mans eyes bore through him.
The man straightened and, though the servant would swear he was about to just lob off his head, laughed and handed it over. "So that's what this is all aboot. Here little one, As though I am any less dangerous without it."
"If you don't mind me asking who are you?"
"I am Mar'Cal, I come from a land. A far away land, far north covered in ice and snow, and from that land there are men. The type of men you can only find in such cold places where the land is hard, but the men are harder." He winked at one of the servants causing feelings the servant had never felt before start to rise up "Where the men stand tall, wearing nothing, but their fur loin clothes, Chests exposed to the world. And, oh, they indeed have beards, beards so magnificent their like has never been seen before and their like may never be seen again. Behold for you stand before one of the proud and manly, and only a respectable amount of homo, race of Canorssians"
The servants had one last look at the man. Was he really a noble? If he was he was not like any they had seen before. His clothes though extremely rich and obviously for nobles, didn't look right they looked kinda thrown together of all things nobley. He also had a crown made of such precious stone that it would give any noble inside pause, but he acted so... unrefined and just in general he seemed more like a barbarian rather than a lord. Maybe he had killed his lord and replaced him at the feast. Before the servants could make up their minds, without announcement from any of the servants he stepped in. The servant quickly started making the announcement "Sir Mar'Cal from... Canorssia?"
Heads turned not just because of the weird sight, but also the cold that seemed to follow him.

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise stared at Valdyna in silence for a few moments, entirely unsure of how to respond to that statement.

She was sure it was just a trick, some way to trap her into saying something that would get her killed. She could only assume that was the intent, mostly because it was always the intent when it came to Vel Anir. Weiroon and Virak had been allies before, decades now in fact, but that never really mattered when you could get the advantage on someone.

"Thank...you." Elise answered cautiously, her face as impassive as it could be. The Baroness simply wasn't used to anyone offering their help to her, not even family. Even her cousins, members of her own family never did anything without an ulterior motive.

It simply wasn't the way of Vel Anir.

Hadn't been for the last thousand years.

"House Virak will survive." As it had since the founding of the city. "Though I must say, I am unused to the pressure."

She glanced at Valdyna. "As I'm sure you understand."

Valdyna Weiroon | Mar'Cal The Wanderer​

 

[Dante di Inverno]

A claw of ice played idly with a long lock of ebony hair.

"So beautiful," Dante crooned as the sharp tips gently scraped along the curve of his companion's cheek.

The hair's owner, a young noblewoman from one of Vel Anir's lesser families, leaned closer, nuzzling her face into his hand.

"Tell me, pet, what naughty little things have you and your family been up to?"

Dante's voice was soft, almost coaxing, as he reached out his other hand to draw her deeper into the alcove of a building. The family di Inverno had long been involved in the political machinations of their great city, and he was no exception. He had come tonight to uncover what new plots had been formed in the weeks prior to his return from university, and the maidens of each great house often knew far more of their elders' politicking than anyone would expect.

"I--I," the woman stuttered as she froze, then moved to pull away. The hand that had drawn her closer began to grip more tightly, icy points developing from each fingernail to dig slightly into the soft flesh of her waist. "I'm not sure what you mean. My family follows yours, does it not?" Passion began to bleed from her face, giving way to fear. "My father would never stand against you, I'm sure of it. His loyalty is given to you wholly."

"Oh?" Dante said coolly, quirking an eyebrow. "Dearling, your words speak of loyalty while your voice speaks of treachery. Which am I to believe?"

"You can believe my words Dante, I swear it." The woman was trembling now. She stopped pulling away and threw her arms about his neck. "I would never lie to you."

"Can I?" He asked, loosening his grip on her waist and moving it to the small of her back. The claws of ice melted away, replaced by a hand keen on pulling her lithe form into his. "I suppose we will see. But come, do not tremble so. I would never harm you, and I seek only your sweet lips this night. If you have secrets to divulge, all the better. But a brief time in your company is more than enough for me."

Dante tilted the woman's head with his hand and placed his lips on hers. Her enthusiastic response was no surprise. She had lured him to her bed years ago, and she was no stranger to intrigue. She knew something, and it was only a matter of time before she told him her father's plans. She always did after a tumble.

"I shall rejoin you later, my sweet," he said as he pulled away. "For now, let's enjoy this magnificent fete and see what we can learn of our city's other politicians."

Elise Virak | Mar'Cal The Wanderer | Valdyna Weiroon | Douglas Haley

 

[Phoenix]

Ambrose Deon ↴​

Ambrose never took a fancy to such gatherings. In general, he simply preferred to avoid large masses of people, especially within such a city like Vel Anir. After all, deceit and manipulation was hidden around almost every street. Unfortunately, Ambrose had no say in whether he was to be attending, not when he was commanded to by the House of Virak. As one of the House of Virak's healers, he knew clearly what his purpose was. After all, who knew what political scheming was to occur with so many nobles attending. Slowly, Ambrose chose a position near the edge of the room, watching Elise Virak and Valdyna Weiroon converse from afar. Curiosity perked at him as he watched a range of emotions dance over their faces but he quickly lowered his gaze. If a mere healer was caught eavesdropping... he could only fathom what might become of him.

Within his mind, Ambrose began to formulate all the possible scenarios that could spring out. Assassinations. Explosions. Arsonists. Secretly, Ambrose found himself hoping that something eventful was to occur. After all, what good was a healer if nobody was in need of healing? Suddenly, a thought made Ambrose stop cold. What was he thinking? He only served one house here and one only. He found his gaze wandering towards Elise once more. Of course, it was a nature for each House to act in their best interest. Ambrose was present to heal if needed but surely he wouldn't be permitted to heal ANY guest if something 'eventful' was to occur. After all, he knew his first priority would always be the Virak Baroness, followed by whoever she commands him to.

Elise Virak | Dante di Inverno | Mar'Cal The Wanderer | Valdyna Weiroon | Douglas Haley

 

[Cuut'Thul'Lulu]

Mar'Cal had set his priorities the moment he stepped in, and quickly found his way to a server with some type of alcohol on a tray. Were these southerners trying to show their wealth by having a man act as a table? A waste of a man in his opinion, but they seemed to have no shortage of men down here. He wondered to himself if anyone in this room full of leaders had ever actually lead their people in a proper war. They were all so soft, he already knew the answer, the disgust he wore on his face was the only thing he had in common with these nobles.

The nobles obviously had no idea what to think of him either, unlike the servants they could tell he wielded great wealth and power, but thought since he did not seem to know and follow their noble customs to the tee he must not be much of a rival in intellect. looking at him they would quickly decide he was some lord of savages who had accumulated some wealth. That had to be why he showed no manners, pushing through the crowd, drinking like a lowlife, and having no sense of dress. One thing gave every noble who pondered him pause though, they knew nothing about him. Where was he a noble of? Why was he here? What was he after? He carried such wealth, that crown was worth more than many of their houses, and he walked with such purpose, yet no one present seemed to know a thing about him, they all talked among themselves hoping that someone would attempt addressing him so they could see where he stood.

Mar'Cal stood towering, drinking and listening. He never showed his interest in what was being said. He heard the nobles talk of Alliria looking to gain wealth from the trade hub, he listened to talk about mages from Elbion and how they could be used for power in the houses. Every now and again there would be whispers of secrets to be had from Fal'Addas and how they could be used to advance themselves. Mar'Cal watched them all trying grab small bits of power, be it wealth, magic, knowledge, or military might.

Mal'Cal let out a long, deep laugh earning him a few turned heads, these 'nobles' as they called themselves, though he didn't see much noble about them, and as he refused to call them leaders anymore, but he witnessed them and they were weak and soft. Here he stood, he drank and offered a jovial atmosphere if only on the surface, and he had great wealth with him, and he showed that he was used to having power, and yet no one approached him. They all claimed to want power and yet when true power stood before them they were too afraid to even attempt to engage it, for fear that they would somehow lose some of their own power in doing so. Oh how it frustrated him, if you really want power you will never obtain it without being willing to sacrifice for it. I never asked them to risk everything for power, but they wouldn't even risk the cost of talking to me to obtain some. My presence is a question, and they have given me their response, for not responding is a response. Truly I am alone down here where no one is my equal. Alone... such a horrid word, I dare say it is the worst word to grace a man's tongue. Death does not even touch it and Hell is only a poor synonym.

As his eyes slowly scoured the crowed once more his eyes for the briefest of moments made contact with another, but that was all it took for in that second he saw in those eyes a hardness the likes he had not seen from any southerner and in that moment the dangerous seed of hope was planted. He knew not who had born those eyes nor where they were now, but he might stay at this party longer, maybe he would have some fun yet. He already had power, but those eyes... they looked just about willing to do anything to get more. Oh, how he hoped that they would be strong enough to use him, whom ever they might be.


Elise Virak | Dante di Inverno | Phoenix | Valdyna Weiroon |
Douglas Haley

 

[Jolly]

Even among the frivolities and extravagant wear of such events, the colorful spectacle that was Jolly's person was seldom matched. And what a spectacle she was, clothed in garments of all sorts of patterns and colors, much of it being items those of the noble sort wouldn't be caught dead in. Yet Jolly was not of noble blood, just as she was not of the mortal folk. She bore what'd otherwise be considered fashion disaster with an otherworldly grace.

And yet the fair folk would play the role of servant this day. Of who she couldn't quite say for sure - mortals came and went so quickly, especially with their seats of power, it was hardly worth keeping track. And once her foot was in the door, she promptly left her current keeper's entourage with an eye for anything and everything interesting. Her pouches were filled with cards, juggling balls, and the like. Two hoops were at her back, held in place by a latch in her tunic. Each step brought forth a gentle chorus of bells sewn to her skirts and attached to her shoes.

She was a small figure in the lot. Colorful, yes, but her tiny stature prompted caution especially among the much larger guards and their iron weapons. That caution did not stop the inquisitive look upon her chosen face. The pale face and its lavender eyes took in whatever sights they came across, unblinking as they made eye contact with anyone they could.

Elise Virak | Dante di Inverno | Douglas Haley | Phoenix | Valdyna Weiroon | Mar'Cal The Wanderer ​

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

"As I'm sure you understand."

Inwardly, Valdyna winced. She should have realized that the nature of Vel Anirian politics was too ingrained in the scions of families that weren't allowed to be educated elsewhere. Elise Virak was also far more interested in said politics, so Valdyna should have realized that the woman would take her overture as an attempt at gaining advantage.

Outwardly, Valdyna nodded, and sipped her drink.

"Aye." Was all she could reply. She didn't have the taste for these political games, but she feared she would need to acquire the taste. The dream of finishing her education in Alliria was becoming less and less possible.

Valdyna looked to a different topic.

"What prompted this gathering? It isn't like the old galas, there are those here who never would have been invited before."

 

[Elise Virak]

It seemed that the party was growing more lively by the minute. There was so much movement all around the ballroom now that she wasn't entirely sure she could have kept up with it if she tried. Lips thinned slightly, and she almost missed what Valdyna said to her.

She gave the woman a look, and then smiled slightly. The expression looked almost...foreign on the young womans face, as if a genuine smile was as rare as a winter rose. "The King has opened Vel Anir."

There was a taste of bitterness to those words.

Both she and Valdyna of course knew that the King himself had done no such thing. The Monarch of Vel Anir held about as much power as the peasants did. It was the Four Ruling Houses that had made this decision, but to say so outloud...especially here in the company of so many strangers would have been the height of folly.

"The hope is to increase trade with others." Her tone was flat. "Even the elves."

Elise couldn't help keep the disgust from her tone.

There were those who simply did not belong within the walls of her city, and those Knife-ears were among them. The very sight of one of their kind here made her blood boil, but if she acted now it would be cause for the other Houses to move on Virak. She would not allow that.

Not now.

Jolly | Dante di Inverno | Douglas Haley | Phoenix | Valdyna Weiroon | Mar'Cal The Wanderer​

 

[Vesryn Arrath Synalon]

Vesryn had entered the party with less trouble than she figured she would have been given. She was here to guard a new friend, someone who had taken a liking to her...brusque nature. She wandered about the hall, looking for Mar'Cal the Wanderer. She had decided to stick with her Orc armor, only she'd thrown it into a barrel of sand and got it back to shining, knocking the rust from the armor. She'd left her shield with her things at the innkeep, and only kept her blade upon her. Along with a small pouch of coins. She had a few silver pieces, a couple of copper jots, a penny or two.

She can't remember the last time she'd washed up as such but she was here, clean and smelling of some perfume the Innkeeper's wife had insisted on dousing her with. She frowned. She didn't like this. Her dour air permeated the atmosphere near her and party goers scattered as quickly as was polite. To avoid the poisoning of their happiness by the elf's sour features.

And there he was. Mar'Cal himself, making a raucous and causing those around him uneasy looks. He was boisterous when he wanted to be. It seemed to balance out between them, however. Her sour puss with his jovial attitude. She shrugged and began weaving her way over toward him. She held a hand up in greeting, and smiled slowly. A friendly face was better than none, and it lifted her mood somewhat. Though she did not like the expanse of the crowd. She would like to find herself a position by the wall and stay out of the way, and observe. That was always best as not everyone would have their attention to anywhere but the field of dancing in front of them.

"Hail, Mar'cal. Took a moment to find you." she said matter of factly, the sound coming out as nearly a grunt. "You've behaved?" She questioned, and tilted a brow at him, her arms folding across the great chest piece that protected her.

Elise Virak | Dante di Inverno | Douglas Haley | Phoenix | Valdyna Weiroon | Mar'Cal The Wanderer

 

[Cuut'Thul'Lulu]

Mar'Cal, after seeing those eyes, was admittedly in a great mood and might possibly have been causing a bit of a raucous. He wasn't used to having to contain his emotions, back home if you were mad you were mad and happy you were happy, non of this... small smiles and small laughs.

Mar'Cal felt a little guilty for not waiting for Vesryn, he knew he should have, but he had grown impatient standing around without a drink. Speaking of which she had just arrived and was without a drink herself.
"Here" he said offering her a glass of some fizzy drink. "They only serve drinks in these small cups, but at least it is a drink" He let out a loud roaring laugh, which was only fuelled by the looks he received. "I will never understand why you southerners think you should feel ashamed to feel anything." He finally looked down into her eyes, seeing the disapproval he calmed himself.

"Hail, Mar'cal. Took a moment to find you." she said matter of factly, the sound coming out as nearly a grunt. "You've behaved?" She questioned tilted a brow at him, her armor folding across the great chest piece that protected her.

"I have not harmed anyone, but from some of their looks I have received I might almost think otherwise." He chuckled at that "I apologize for not waiting for you, but we both know I didn't invite you because I needed a guard." He smiled hopefully that she'd forgive him.

Truly the reason he'd invited her was for her company. She was a lady of honour and much more noble than the filth that surrounded them currently. She was strong, and being around her reminded him of home and made him feel so much less lonely. She was frank, and honest, as was he able to be with her. She was no conquerer, but she was someone he'd gladly accept as a battle brother and fight by her back any day.

Catching Vesryn's longing eyes towards the wall he grabbed the man-tables arm "Oi, I shall be moving to... uh... say over there" He pointed to a place close to the wall where the view of the dance floor was not particularly obstructed, as it was close to the middle service entrance. "Make sure to keep the drinks coming especially if you got more of this fizzy wine." He then turned to Vesryn, "Come on lets watch this dancing from the wall, I dislike how disingenuous it is, but I would be lying to say that it was not beautiful, they all move with grace and it can be called nothing except art."

 

[Vesryn Arrath Synalon]

Vesryn's lips were a neutral line. "I... My company? Mar'cal I assumed this was a job. I...did not dress the part." She looked down at herself with a wry smile. The part indeed. Though she cleaned up well enough. She wrinkled her nose. Was it her or did everyine else bathe in perfumed oils too? She shook her head, accepting the bubbly drink he offered. She sniffed it.
"Did... It bubbles...is it poisoned?" She held the cup as delicately as she could manage. Did they not have mugs here? So far, this was not a party she enjoyed. She followed Mar'cal towards the wal and sank back into an easy stance, ready but resting. She felt better with her back to a wall. Like she could breathe again.
"I'll break your legs if you invite me to another one of these." She whispered close to his ear, leaning over to do so. She returned to her easy stance with a neat smile in place. Even while her eyes looked hard upon him. She turned her attention to the dancers.
"I don't know how, and I do not care to learn." She shrugged, scratching her neck where the armor bit in slightly.

Mar'Cal The Wanderer

 

[Veran Anireth]

At least here, he could feel some joy. His 'royal escort' would be off somewhere, guarding the gates, or some privileged noble, while he could be free to receive all of the respect he desired. The Alliance of Four had 'advised' the king to open Vel Anir to all, in hopes of increasing trade. This influx of strangers and foreigners to the city, and their presence in the gala, meant he received many nods and bows of respect to him. His attire was indicative of his status as the Crown Prince, wearing the finest accented doublet in black, gold and the royal red, a small gilded cape over his shoulder, a small golden coronet with rubies, and a bejeweled dagger on his belt, with a book on magic he had been reading before the party held to his belt by a golden chain.

Veran looked over his shoulder at the throne where his father sat in full regalia, receiving gifts plentiful from foreign envoys and strange merchants. Ironic, how the king had more power over foreigners than he did the people he was meant to rule over. Veran never did particularly like any of the various elves and orcs that could be found in the downtrodden areas of Vel Anir, at least not like his uncle Godfrey Urahil did. Elves are tricky, mischevious rogues, and Orcs are big, savage brutes, not to mention the greedy drunkards that are Dwarves. But Elves were also good hunters and craftsmen, Orcs were great friends and better companions, and who better to share a table with than a Dwarf, as his uncle would counter.

But, why focus on that, here? There had to be something going on, somebody who he could speak to. Before he could step to find somebody to talk to, he felt somebody tugging on his back. Turning, Veran was met with the face of a servant boy serving as a waiter, who stood a good few inches shorter than him, and held a tray of wine glasses. "Yes?", Veran asked, with a slight tinge of excitement, knowing the response he would receive, leaning over slightly to hear him better.

"I-I'm ready to do what we talked about earlier.", the timid waiter spoke. "You sound nervous.", Veran said, his finger pointing to the slight shake his left pinky had. "And you're even shaking a bit. I hope you aren't having second thoughts?".

"No, not at all!", he said, "I'm just... yes, nervous.". Veran stood back up to his full height, using it to spy across the fields of nobles to spot just the kind of character he was looking for. The Virak heir who his father had recently made Baroness standing alone with some wine, as one of the Weiroon children walked towards her. Not wanting to miss his opportunity, Veran quickly turned his little spy around and sent him towards them. "Quickly, get over there, see if you can't listen in on what they're talking about.", Veran spoke into the boy's ear.

He watched as he quickly but skillfully maneuvered his way through the crowds of nobles, as wine glasses slowly disappeared from his tray. The boy reached them just in time, with the Weiroon even taking one of the glasses of wine from the waiter's tray. Nervous as he was, Veran had not made a mistake in choosing him to listen in on their conversation. The boy stayed in their vicinity, not getting too close as to draw suspicion, but not straying too far from the clumps of noblemen near them that he would not be able to hear what they were saying.

From here, Veran could only watch their mouths move, their facial expressions change, and hope the boy could catch anything, anything interesting, although these nobles tended to keep their mouths sown shut within their own houses, and who knew how conserved they would be at a gala.

Elise Virak - Douglas Haley - Valdyna Weiroon - Mar'Cal The Wanderer - Dante di Inverno - Phoenix - Jolly - Vesryn Arrath Synalon​

 

[Manier Sarvant]

Today. Today the world would begin to feel a shift in power, they might not know it but generations from now, today would be the day history books marked as the beginning of the end of the reign of the supposed 'civil races'.

Manier checked his fine wolf pelt coat one last time. He knew how much value humans put in ones visual representation of wealth but he had a fine line to stradle. He must show the reborn Lusus peoples wealth, but not make it so overwealming as to warrant their interest in overtaking their newfound settlements. He looked at his companions cheking each of their equally well crafted, if much more utilitarian armor. To his right was the beautiful Aria, the cat-folk held an undeniable beauty though her physique conveyed and equal sense of danger despite the alure. To his left Bentely, a well built geckan strode with the confidence of one certain of their mission. Together the three headed to the grand party where the Dioltas would begin drawing the worlds attention.

After many an interrogation, unsurprisinly resolved by a few coins, they reached the gathering. Instantly heads turned as the odd trio commanded immediate attention. A polite, practiced smile came upon Maniers lips, were it not for his green pigmentation it would have been exactly like those of the other nobles. The goblin scanned the room, quickly organizing in his mind those whom he needed to speak to and the others as fodder whom could be ignored, with the obvious flattery of course. Slowly he made his way through the room making sure to greet with a nod and a polite smile each inquiring gaze he met along the way before finaly reachingg the king of Vel Anir. " Greetings from the Lusus people your royal highness" As he spoke he lowered himself with practiced grace into a bow which his companions replicated impeccably, he knew from the gossip around the city that the royal family held next to no power in this place, but cordialities had to be met, before he could move on the the larger players. "It is an honor to be at such a marvelous reunion."

 

[Cuut'Thul'Lulu]

"I'll break your legs if you invite me to another one of these."

"I might just have to do so, if only to face the challenge of you doing such a feat" Mal'Cal joked.

"I don't know how, and I do not care to learn."

"Ya..." Mar'Cal let out a dry chuckle as his eyes took on a far away look, "dancing was a lot different back home. We would just swing our arms and stomp our feet, and laugh or cry out. This dancing though it is an art, they will have to have spent years learning to move like that. It is not the dance of celebration that I know, it is a dance of beauty, a dance with no more purpose than to look good, it is a dance of peace. It makes me almost wonder if my daughters are... never mind. I left there because there was nothing more for me to do and unlike the others the new sport of raiding by sea did not interest me, I didn't want battle, I wanted war, conquering, and I could unite my nation with those desires, but I couldn't, or more so, wouldn't drag my nation with me to seek out my hunger. I guess you could say, at least for me, fighting, conquering, being at war, it is all so easy for me, but what comes next, the living... now that is a lot harder." Realizing he was becoming much too sombre he added with a chuckle, "Or maybe I am just a stubborn old dog who doesn't feel like learning new tricks."

As Mar'Cal's eyes continued to scan the crowd his eyes passed the king and suddenly widened, "Oh shoot the king, I didn't bring him anything." Mar'Cal Quickly searched his person for anything worthy of a gift, "Sorry Vesyrn I need to give him my thanks, I don't want to be the type to show up at ones house and drink his drink without giving the host the proper thanks." Mar'Cal quickly began making his way toward the king, pushing his way through the crowd.

 

[Elise Virak]

Oh dear.

They really were letting all sorts of rabble into this party, a fact that brought a sickening amount of bile into her throat. She couldn't help but feel complete and utter disdain at the procession of rejects that made their way through the palace rooms. Her fingers tightened around the cup of wine, so much that the glass almost began to crack.

Almost.

Her breath hitched when she saw some sort of...green creature move towards the King, her lips thinning as she fought the urge to set the thing aflame.

Was this really how far they had fallen? She could remember a time as a girl when anything non-human in her city had been nothing but a slave. Now? Now they were attending Gala's and being fed the finest foods and wines. How had they come to this? How? It was contemptible, disgusting.

Her entire body seemed to shake. "Things need to change."

Elise spoke quickly, curtly, quietly. At least she thought she did. The quiver in her voice was clear, though there was no outward sign of her rage besides that. She could keep that hidden even now. Even with this...farce going on all around her.

For now at least.

Veran Anireth - Douglas Haley - Valdyna Weiroon - Mar'Cal The Wanderer - Dante di Inverno - Phoenix - Jolly - Vesryn Arrath Synalon - Manier Sarvant

 

[Dante di Inverno]

Dante re-entered the crowd, blending into it as if he had never left. A smile here, a wink there, and he was back to charming the ladies of the noble houses. He briefly spotted Elise Virak and Valdyna Weiroon through a part in the crowd, but decided to convene with his agent before approaching the women. The Virak Baroness oft reminded him of a surly feline, and the Weiroon heiress had been so long removed from Vel Anirian society as a result of her studies, that his information on her personality and weaknesses likely wasn't as up-to-date as it could be.

He would need to ask his agent if she had learned anything new about the females.

Returning his attention to his task, Dante once more became one with the crowd.

Slowly, but surely, he made his way toward Jolly, the Fae he had commissioned to gather information this night. Although it galled him to use a filthy elf as a servant, he wasn't above using rabble when it suited his needs. And who better to escape attention than an attention-seeking member of one of the inferior races?

Dante sidled up to the colorful elf, taking care to avoid making eye contact. It wouldn't do for other nobles to learn of their parlay and attempt to listen in.

"You chose quite the outfit for this mission," he said quietly, his icy voice rising barely above a murmur. "I approve. It is the perfect way to go unnoticed in a crowd like this. Have you learned anything of note since your arrival?"

Veran Anireth | Douglas Haley | Valdyna Weiroon | Mar'Cal The Wanderer | Elise Virak | Phoenix | Jolly | Vesryn Arrath Synalon | Manier Sarvant

 

[Vesryn Arrath Synalon]

Vesryn rolled her eyes, a feat indeed. She'd love to see his face when she actually accomplished such a thing. She crossed her arms as she listened to Mar'cal talk of dancing. Of the art and the waste of time and effort into creating something so frivolous. As Vesryn knew no dance, she couldn't speak on the matter. What she knew was the steps and pattern from Orcish dance from her tribe. She knew nothing else apart from it. She eyed the floor, scanning the area for hostile intent. Given the looks many of the party-goers, it would seem they all had such intent, but were kept from acting out on it due to the crowd. She chuffed, unamused.

Subterfuge, cloak and daggers. It wasn't something she enjoyed. There was no greater pleasure in this world than watching the life leave the eyes of a challenger. But here she was, in this ball room, her armor shined and cleaned, herself cleaned and perfumed. So much so she reckoned she'd need to roll around in mud in order to mask her smell again. She continued to frown, the look almost plastered to her face. Probably till the day she died.

She watched Mar'cal leave to bend knee to the hosting King and shook her head. As soon as Mar'cal dismissed her, she;d likely run from this place. Run and leave these petulant Barons and Baronesses, counts, and countesses and all of their ilk to their petty banter.

Vesryn did her best to just blend in to the background, having abandoned the drink Mar'cal had given her. She wasn't really in a mind to fog her brain up with the drink. There were too many people around for her to believe that such a thing would be wise.

Veran Anireth | Douglas Haley | Valdyna Weiroon | Mar'Cal The Wanderer | Elise Virak | Phoenix | Jolly | Vesryn Arrath Synalon | Manier Sarvant

 

[Cuut'Thul'Lulu]

Mar'Cal impatiently waited his turn to approach the king, during this time though he had figured out what he would be giving the king. When his turn had finally come he gave the king a green-yellow ring made of a strange stone. "King Aden II, I would like to thank you for throwing such a great gathering. To throw such a large party with all this food, you must be quite proud of all you have." Mar'Cal looked him in eyes searching this man, the leader of a nation with such wealth, looking to see what made this man great. What he saw was a man, one who's fight in him had died long ago. "Anyways I would like to thank you for having me, and to thank you I would like for you to accept this ring, made from glow rock, a rock that will keep sunlight in it even after the light has gone, for a time.

Mar'Cal turned rather upset with what he had just seen from this 'ruler' of 'men'. He walked off, but stopped for a moment to look at a tiny green being, it was so small, and it seemed to upset everyone around it with its very existence. This party might take a turn for the exiting quite soon. As he watched it it also took in its surroundings, and he noticed only one thing about this creature, the look in its eyes. If he would say one thing about it would be that it was a much better actor than these men around it. Mar'Cal chuckled at this, men should be the number one beasts of any land they live upon, and that was amplified for these lands where they had more than one could dream to use. Leave the acting to these green things they obviously were better actors.

Mar'Cal quickly, filled with excitement after seeing this creature, hurried to get Vesryn. If a fight was going to break out, or at least anything exiting were going to happen, it seemed likely to happen by this creature with the tension its presence brought. "Vesryn quick come with me, there is this small green creature, smaller than my leg with ears larger than elves, and if we are to be at all lucky I think there may be brawl of sorts to break out over it! Come let us join in on the fun! Oh it's never a real party without a good brawl!" Mar'Cal's smile enveloped his whole face, one could wonder if the only reason he showed up at this party was to fight. He was as exited as a child being given their first very own weapon.