Dreadlords Four Factions and a Wedding.

[Grendel Strand]

Some weeks after the initial announcement was made Grendel Strand and his family held their own announcement for the great and good of Anirian society.

Vel Hetren became the jewel of the Vels for one shining evening as representatives from both Great and Minor Houses gathered at Strand Manor which was at one point in its past used as an emergency Jail, earning it the nickname The Cage.
Despite this dour and frustratingly sticky term for where he lived Grendel felt as though it had never looked better. The trip back had given him time to organise his thoughts and the closer the date came the better he was feeling about it. Nerves were there of course but no fear, no regret.

This night would be his first opportunity to show Nilofer the much more relaxed attitude Anirian's tended to have as far as women were concerned. While he had accepted the customs of the Kaliti during his stay with Master Saladin, Nilofer was going to live in Vel Anir and things were different here.

The party was held in the garden and once all the guests arrived Grendel was summoned.
He was waiting in the back hall when he got the news that all was ready.
Fireworks had been prepared, drinks were flowing and food was laid out.A small but highly skilled set of musicians were ready with brass and string.
Upon getting notice he traveled across the dim lit hall to where Nilofer was waiting patiently on a cushioned seat by the wall.
"It's time."
He said with a smile as he offered her his hand to rise.

Nilofer Saladin

 

[Roul]

At the back of the garden, Roul swirled his wine briefly, took a sniff, then quaffed it to the last drop in several long gulps. He finished the cup and made a sound like a whale coming up for air, with a satisfied smack of his lips. At least the wine's good.

Not exactly under dressed, but certainly not over dressed, Roul wore a simple tunic with a dark embroidered jacket and breeches. A long knife of the Cortosi fashion hung at his hip. He'd his hair pulled back in a tail, though some sun-lightened strands sprung free to curl near his ears. A gold earring in the shape of a serpent hung from one ear.

Roul scooped another cup of red from a passing servant and sipping it. His gaze flicked around the garden, looking for familiar faces.

 

[Nilofer Saladin]

The second and final celebration announcing Nilofer's and Grendel's engagement was underway.

Lord Saladin had escorted his daughter here, but the rest of the Saladin family had remained in Annuakat. They had done their part, and it was the Strand family's perogative as to how they celebrated the engagement.

Since her mother was not here, Nilofer was able to completely choose her own attire for the night. She had spent a good bit of her father's money at a local dress shop having her gown made for the celebration tonight. it was turquoise with gold accents (her favorite color scheme), and made in the style more traditional for Anirians. She was unused to the wide skirts and the bareness of her neck and shoulders, but it was rather freeing- no one would know her tonight save for Grendel and his family.

She was sitting on a cushioned bench beneath a window, overlooking the garden lit up outside. Many were already gathered, enjoying the food, music, and company. Anirian parties certainly seemed less tense, though she was certain they had their own social rules that ought to be followed.

Nilofer glanced up at Grendel's approach. She returned his smile nervously as she stood and took his arm, following him out of the doors into the garden proper.

Grendel Strand

 

[Nocturne]

How Noc found her way into such a celebration would remain a mystery. Certainly, she had not been born of any noble blood. Nor had she Anirian or Empire blood running through her veins. There had been no invitation posted to her letterbox. It had been convenient that she heard of it in passing while visiting the city. A city she, no doubt, stuck out like a sore thumb in. Not that she cared. She would be delighted to leave this hell hole- where the sun burnt her skin until it was pinkish on all the high points and revealed some freckles that had been hidden for several decades.

Her dress, long and flowing in various shades of grey and silver, flowed behind her as she carved away through the people and towards the back of the garden where a servant held a tray of red wine. She stopped a foot away and grabbed a glass just before she would walk a little further back near a man and lean against a railing as she drank and surveyed the area. Lovely place. She thought, noting the little details- open windows, walls that looked too climbable.

 

[Roul]

Storm-blue eyes settled on a startlingly pale woman with stark white hair falling just beneath her chin. Paler even than Keres. Though Keres' raven dark locks gave her a contrast that most would find... appealing. This woman stood out like a moon on a cloudless night.

The mercenary grunted and walked over to her with the sort of single-minded stride that marked out military men from the aimless amble of most.

"Your dress," he rasped tersely, nodding at the silver and gray folds, "it's nice. Says you belong. But I know a killer when I see one."

He pointed his wine cup at the throng of noble fops, "You really know any of these assholes?"

 

[Nocturne]

She felt his eyes on her, yet her gaze never left what lie directly ahead. She sipped the wine from her glass and the edges of her lips, painted red, curled into a smile. "You have good eyes." She mused, her tone drenched in sarcasm. So he could spot a girl who'd never seen the sunlight before from only a few feet away. Really...truly...impressive.

Though she'd never admit to being a killer. That was far too barbaric. Assassin, maybe. That was more of an art than murder.

She followed where he pointed ahead. "Do you know any of them?" She asked him before she would give an answer, and likely the one he had expected. "I haven't a clue who any of them are, personally. However I'm sure I can take guesses at who is a noble and who is not."

Roul

 

[Roul]

"Aye. The nobles have a way of...mingling," he admitted. "But do I know them personally?" Roul snorted, "Fuck no."

He took another draw on his cup, draining a good fourth of the cup. It did not matter. He could still feel the hunger within him, a thirst for a river of blood pouring from a mountain of flesh. No mere wine and fete's food would console that ravenous beast within.

"Still..." His gaze flickered past the woman in the silver dress toward the crowd, singling out the reason he was here. His features took on a hard cast, as though hewn from granite, "There's some I know by name."

The sun-weathered Cortosi looked her up and down. "Not you though." He extended a rough and calloused hand toward her, the hand of a man who had known only one real profession: war.

"Call me Roul."

Roul née Rolf Red-Hand. Traitor knight of the Cortosi Radiant Church, exiled paladin. Wanted dead or alive by two kings, four counts, and one duke.

 

[Nocturne]

Her smile opened wider revealing a perfect set of white teeth, the same shade as her hair. She looked friendly to any passerby, as though she had known Roul for years and was enjoying a deep conversation with him. She shifted slightly to face him. "Oh? Who is it you know? The bride or the groom?" She snorted and stared at his hand before extending her own to shake. Unlike his hand, which seemed all too familiar with weaponry and hard labor, hers was soft as though it had never held a blade.

"Roul..." She shook his hand, trying to find a moment where he'd been mentioned during her travels. Nothing. "Nocturne." She returned.

"You never answered me. What side are you here to support? Or is it some other motive you have to be attending such an interesting clash of cities?"

Roul

 

[Roul]

He glanced down at their hands as they separated. A whisper of an expression tugged at the corner of his lips, then it was gone, as fleeting and indiscernible as a breeze in the doldrums.

"Hmm," he grunted, squinting at the nobles again. "I don't take sides."

Not anymore.

"Not unless there's coin in it."

Speaking of, perhaps...

"The bride's the daughter of a powerful family in Annuakat. I hear they're rich."

He looked into the depths of his cup, staring at the red, red wine.

"Wonder how much she's worth to them."

He glanced up, that gray-blue steel stare studying her night-black eyes.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria arrived with her uncle in tow, his wife ushering the Initiate towards the refreshments before spying someone she knew.

With a soft inhale, she looked about the garden with an effort to not appear bored or sneering at the mix of guests that were invited. A reminder also noted by her uncle, her late father's best friend and guardian to Vittoria Larrainth. "I hope you don't wear that expression when your classmate finds you later, Little V."

"Grendy knows who I am." She reminded the First Rank Dreadlord, giving him an unsettling smile as she feigned politeness. "Besides, he has plenty of guests to greet."

With the clearance of her to attend this party all the way in Vel Hetren, the Academy released her into the care of her guardian, who ensured his ward still wore her nullifying cuffs and would not be left out of sight. For your protection, they all assured her, but Vittoria knew they feared her and what she was capable of.

Those same hands that sporting the cuffs that did not go with her dress smoothed the sea green satin of her skirts. "An hour, and then we can make our leave."

"You may be the last of your noble house, sweet Little V, but the Larrainths and the Strands have held a respect for each other for many generations. Befriending the Strand boy may even prove useful if he supports you in claiming the Larrainth inheritance from your bitch of a step mother."

Her hands curled around the sleek fabric, skirts caught in her fists as she took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. "I do not need any more friends."

"Allies then, if not friends." Connnel nudged her, flashing her a smile that earned him one of Vittoria's signature smiles where there was no joy or happiness lighting it up.

 

[Liliana]

Liliana Lorel had not said a single word in two hours.

Instead, she had spent that time utilizing the discomforting tactic of staring at her carriage companion with a face which could make a field of wild flowers wilt. The pure, seething rage which flowed through her veins acting as fuel in her obstinate silence.

Why was she behaving like this? Why had she so viciously silenced her confrère when he tried to speak just a few minutes into their journey? Why had she scalded him with a barb from her tongue that would have left most grown men as upset as a little girl who'd dropped her ice cream on the playground?

Because he was her Fiance; Leander Urahil.

The announcement had been made months ago now, nearly old news in the cycle of Anirian Gossip, but the Wedding was still looming. A union of a Great Houses with the prospective Heir of another was very near something of a Royal Wedding. Such things took time to plan, and through all that time the the couple to be had spent hardly any time together.

In fact, this was the longest they had ever been in the same 'room'

Not that Liliana really cared. She had intended on staying as far away from Leander as possible for as long as possible. Then, this farce had come. A shock which had arguably sent rumors running through Vel Anir than their own announcement. Elise had not minded, something Liliana found curious, but in her wallowing misery she had not thought to ask her cousin why. Not that it mattered all that much in the moment.

Liliana herself, found this whole thing a great crime.

Not just her own marriage, but that some sandy strumpet would apparently be getting the attention she well deserved and should continue to get. A fact which was almost worse than marrying Leander in the first place.

Her anger spiked again, and for the first time in nearly an hour Liliana actually looked at her Fiance. Not simply stared past him in anger. She seethed, not at Leander surprisingly, but at the situation she was being put in. She despised this. She deserved better. She des-

A thought suddenly struck the young dilettante.

Leander finally looked at her, apparently having noticed her intense gaze once again and opened his mouth to say something. But before he could get a single word in edgewise Liliana cut him off. "When we leave this carriage, we are going to be a happy couple."

The words stood as a bastion whose walls appeared more than a little difficult to assault.

"When you step out you are going to call me 'my love', you are going to offer me your arm, and everyone watching will believe us to be deeply in love. You will be the perfect gentleman all night. You will tell people you love my eyes, and I will say your skill with a sword is unmatched. We will dance, we will laugh, and we will cement ourselves as Aniria's darling couple." Liliana continued her words, not bothering to hide her underlying rage which fueled them. We will show that gargoyle and his sand harpy what it actually means to be a part of the Anirian Elite."

"I abjectly refuse to play second fiddle to anyone, or anything." Liliana said, in words that may have spoken for more than the moment. "Understand?"

She demanded from her husband to be, golden eyes piercing as ever.

 

[Nocturne]

"So we are both on the bride's side." She dropped her smile with her hand, sipping at her wine as she followed his gaze around the garden. "I have heard similar from the locals. The groom, however, " She threw back the rest of the glass and fished around the tray of another servant passing by. A drink in each hand.

"An Anirian. No name I've heard of, but I doubt he's just some peasant child." A large gulp of wine followed. "Unless the bride's family has some sort of need for a child soldier, I can't quite grasp the point of this marriage."

Roul

 

[Roul]

Roul grunted.

"Politics."

He swallowed the rest of his cup, looked around for a servant like Nocturne'd done, saw none. Roul stared at the cup for a moment, then with a shrug tossed it over a shoulder and into the row of hedges behind him.

Two glasses of wine down and he felt a pleasant tingling in his brain.

"Both those for you or?" he nodded to her double fisting the wine.

 

[Grendel Strand]

The crowd hushed, the music stopped as the couple were presented.
It was so much like the Annuakat announcement. Save for some minor details.
As they presented themselves Grendel made sure to take Nilofer's arm in his own. Partly to keep some of the more viciously minded and petty guests from trying to drag her off and partly because he wanted to keep her close by.
At the end of the formal announcement given by the cryer they began to make their way into the crowd.
Spying Vittoria Grendel thought it as good a place as any to try so he guided them towards his Academic comrade.
"I'm glad you could make it."
He told Vittoria with his twisted but genuine smile.
"Nilofer, this is Vittoria Larrainth. Heiress of House Larrainth and a fellow student of the Dreadlord Academy. Vittoria, may I introduce you to my fiance, Nilofer of the House of Saladin."

Nilofer Saladin
Vittoria Larrainth

 

[Nocturne]

Nocturne nodded, a shared sentiment towards his statement, 'politics'. She ignored his presence as he searched for more alcohol, but his voice brought her attention back towards the man. "They were..." She trailed off, taking a sip from each before extending whichever she liked the taste of less- the pale colored wine. "You owe me the next round, yes?"

The smile returned to her face and the gentle flushing of her cheeks crept up on her moonlit complexion as he alcohol settled.

She glanced over to the young couple as they made their rounds, greeting whomever and whatever had shown up to the event. Though the crowd's volume had decreased dramatically. she could not hear the big lad's voice as he spoke to another girl. Instead she made an attempt to read lips, staring a little too intently as the drink made her skills a little clumsy.

"A student, eh?" She muttered, more to herself than her newfound drinking partner. "Anirians are strange."

 

[Roul]

"Sure," he rasped, seizing the cup and taking a sip.

Dry. Very dry. And tasting slightly of pear. He drained half of the cup in two gulps, then let out a satisfied sigh through his teeth and dragged a hand across his wetted beard.

Never gave much of a shit for propriety, even before his curse.

"What, oh you mean their child soldiers?" his gravelly voice ground up the words before spitting them out, "Used to be the ones they'd send to burn Cortosi villages. But if this is what they're passing off as hardened battlemages..."

He snorted.

"Pampered children with moon-sized egos and velvet lives."

 

[Nilofer Saladin]

Nilofer let Grendel lead her through the crowd, their arms linked as her brown gaze scanned those in attendance. Soon he led them towards a tall young woman with dark hair and an imperious air about her. Vittoria, Grendel said her name was.

Nilofer dipped her head to the girl, painting on a pleasant expression. She wondered for a few seconds if it would be proper for her to speak and she supposed this wasn't Annuakat and her family wasn't here to control her so speak she did.

"A pleasure to meet you," she said, her voice soft but clear. She did wonder that the first person Grendel spoke to was a woman who seemed to be his own age, but she did not let herself linger on that thought for long.

There would be others to meet, and she really ought to get accustomed to Anirian traditions and social rules.

Grendel Strand Vittoria Larrainth

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria was on her best behaviour here. The girl smiled, attempting to mimic the warmth she saw in many other smiles, but there was no true reason for her to be so pleasant other than the heeding of her uncle.

"Nilofer," Her smile turned feline, as if a cat found a mouse. It was often the look seen on Vittoria at the earliest of greetings, but the girl managed to lower herself in a polite curtsy.

Her gaze fell back onto Grendel, lips pursing slightly. "Not all of us have the luxury to take some leave from the Academy to strike alliances with the Empire." Her uncle cleared his throat, and Vittoria feigned a bright smile once again. "But yes, well wishes to you both on such a match."

"I am Connel, Vittoria's guardian. Ah, and my wife, Celestine." The First Rank Dreadlord smiled and welcomed his wife, who doted on the engaged couple. With no children of their own, they were present in Vittoria's upbringing and honoured their late friend's wishes that they help guide and teach his daughter. It was clear they were the ones responsible in keeping Vittoria appearing acceptable to society.

"Yes, the decorated First Rank Dreadlord." Her father had been the same too, and it was known around the Academy that Vittoria may very well achieve that rank or higher one day with her deadly magic skillset. "I am sure Grendel knows of you, uncle." Connel's sister was a younger Dreadlord, fresh out of the Academy and butchered alongside Grendel's family members.

After all, her favourite conversations were often the uglier side to remiscence.

Grendel Strand
Nilofer Saladin

 

[Grendel Strand]

It was to be expected. Vittoria was a veritable walking bag of angry spiders at the best of times.
"Travel does the soul good Vittoria. Perhaps you should visit the Empire some day. There is much to appreciate there."
He placed his free hand over Nilofer's on his arm as he spoke before addressing Vittoria's guardians.
"Lord Connell, Lady Celestine. I do of course. Our families have served together on many fronts. My..."
He caught himself a bit, hanging over the word.
" late brother spoke highly of your honoured sister. May they never be forgotten."
He had informed Nilofer that Anirian's did not have gods, not really. Death was a matter of memory and respect for them, not a thing of reward and punishment.

Nilofer Saladin
Vittoria Larrainth

 

[Nocturne]

"You drink too fast. Are you trying to get me drunk?" Nocturne mused as her counterpart tossed back the more foul tasting of the two wines. She took another sip of hers, hissing as she swallowed it. "Anirian dogs can have their charms...sometimes. But their alcohol," She sniffed at it and swirled it around in the glass. "is positively foul. You know they have so many families whose wealth came from their wine?"

She tossed it back as he had done. "Allirians. They have access to far better wine, but they do tend to let anybody in. I'm sure the mere thought of an elf taking part in handling their shipments would scare an Anirian off, back to their wine that tastes of vinegar and rotten grapes."

It was a shame that there appeared to be no servants carrying goblets of absinthe around.

"The children of today," she gestured to the young to-be-wed couple. "They are just props for their parents to show off the most useless traces of magic trickling down their bloodlines. Even a few generations ago, I may have been wary enough to avoid the dreadlords of the time." She sighed and beckoned another servant over. "Now, they are like a carnival attraction. Amusing for outsiders to watch, but I imagine it is a misery to try to milk them for every ounce of magic in their bodies and finding so little."

Roul

 

[Nilofer Saladin]

Nilofer's expression held a false softness that no one (except maybe for Grendel) would be able to see past. She learned very quickly what kind of person Vittoria was, and found the young Dreadlord similar to her own mother; and she had had plenty of experience dealing with her mother.

She kept her lips sealed, her smile never faltering, even at Vittoria's pettiness. She was glad for Grendel's arm in hers, as it brought reassurance. She returned the favor at the mention of his late brother by gently squeezing his hand that rested over hers. It was a sensitive topic and this a tense event, but he was handling it marvelously.

Grendel Strand Vittoria Larrainth

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"Thank you." And after a few exchanges, Vittoria's guardians wandered off to speak to other Dreadlords and notable Anirians, leaving their ward to remain.

Vittoria wore an impassive expression, eyes flicking between Grendel and the Kaliti. "Well, how does such an arrangement work for you Grendy? Are you to return to the Academy or King and I destined to have no other worthy challenger in our class?" It was as high as praise the girl would give out. Many of their cohorts saw herself and King as elite, the very best of their class, but Grendel put in as much work also. His lack of showing weakness awarded him the benefit of not being subjected to her and King's taunts.

Nor would she terrify him with her most devastating magic.

But alliances were worth something to Vittoria. Keeping her uncle happy, the only sort of family she had left, was important.

Clearing her throat, her finger crooked and seemingly tore into her forearm and pinched something. She withdrew it, a polished, golden coin. She offered it to Nilofer. "If you are to marry into an Anirian family, then it is best to have a piece of Anirian history too. An ancient coin from the First War. It has been in my family and of that of our Great House, the Viraks, for some time." But she would no longer need it. They were all things, and it was not known that Vittoria had a hand in wiping out her family, at the behest of her father before his untimely death.

Grendel Strand Nilofer Saladin

 

[Grendel Strand]

Grendel spoke in matter of fact as he gazed idly.
"There is still the wedding itself of course, which will be held in Annuakat and then we return here during the honeymoon. I've been in contact with the Academy, they're happy enough to allow me the time as long as I can return but I'm afraid you won't see me back for at least two months. You and our dear King shall have to hold the fort without me."
His attention drew back to Vittoria as he finished with a short smile.
The absence of her uncle and aunt gave him some leave to relax which he had no doubt Nilofer had noticed. The giving of the coin though, that was an old Anirian custom. So old he did not think anyone ever did it anymore. Vittoria knew how to surprise sometimes when she cared to.

Nilofer Saladin
Vittoria Larrainth

 

[Nilofer Saladin]

Nilofer kept her focus on the young woman before her, watching carefully as she seemingly pulled a coin out of thin air (or her forearm, Nilofer couldn't really tell from this angle).

The coin was offered to Nilofer and she extended her free hand to take it. She got the feeling that this was a significant gesture, and so she bowed her head to Vittoria, slipping the coin into a hidden pocket in her dress.

"I thank you very much, I am honored," she replied, her voice genuine.

She did not miss it when Grendel relaxed at the departure of Vittoria's elders, just as she did not miss his surprise when Vittoria gave her the coin.

Vittoria Larrainth Grendel Strand

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria bowed her head, standing tall once again.

"Hmm. It certainly will be odd knowing you are not away on a mission..."

One day, it would be Vittoria's turn to wed, but not until she was much older. She had decided to first work on her path to becoming an Archon, and along the way, she would meet any other powerful individual that may catch her eye. Her father brought her up to care about standards, about being the best.

"An interesting guest list you have here in Vel Hetren." She smoothly carried conversation back to betrothed couple, casting her glance to peer about the room. "It is quite a distance from Vel Anir, but you certainly wrangled a great many nobles."