- Messages
- 6
- Character Biography
- Link
The Lords were talking over her head about something for which she had ignored. However when Lord Petrus Ritus Iskandar made a sort of severe display of writing his answer. His attitude this tea party had been so aloof and irritated that she had written him off.
Yet, much like a merchant accustomed to writing contracts his answer was so exactly right to the letter that she couldn't possibly disavow it. She wasn't the type to make a riddle with no answer or hope for no answer to come. So the look of sore bitterness that flashed upon her face was not due to the answer being found.
Of all the guests in the garden perhaps she should have known it would be someone so close to the council. Or perhaps it was less his standing as a climbing house and more his personal interest that lead him to think in the same patterns.
Luckily there came the emergence of the distractions she had mentioned giving her time to fix her expression back into a polite smile. She was still the host of the party after all.
Beatrice looked out at the garden of the growing scuffle, someone had smuggled their own toys in. Well perhaps if Tuncan MacKraser and the little rabbit put on a good show of a fight she might re-evaluate her opinion of them. She made a small gesture with her fan. Several servants as if plucked by marionette strings abandoned what they had just been doing and began either escorting the less martially inclined guest away or simply leaving themself as if exiting stage left.
The witch seemed remarkably unphased for having several arcane beasts stomping about, seemingly headed directly for her.
She offered a sidelong glance to the Lord commander Afanas "Well, now I do believe several citizens at this very table are in danger. Perhaps you could give Mr. MacKraser a hand."
Her mood slightly improved she turned to Lord Iskandar and Lady Pneria.
"Hm, seeing as you seem to be sharing a card I will hold of on my seal so that Lady Pneria may make another attempt if she wishes. In the mean time you have earned a token of my recognition. She held out her hand and one of the very few servants remaining a doll like maid placed a small golden brooch into her palm.
She held this out for Lord Iskandar to take. It was in the shape of a small golden butterfly. A discerning eye would be able to see that it was more than a bit of expensive jewelry.
"With this I the golden witch recognize the holder of this brooch has provided the solution which I sought. It allows entry through the barrier into the mansion. You may shelter there with your companion if this entertainment is not to her taste."
Indeed the prize for the true answer was a sort of badge as if to declare this guest fit for attempting a much larger riddle. She held out hope that perhaps it would not be the only brooch she awarded but she doubted more attempts would be made while these gargoyles ran amok. She didn't let it sour her mood. Some guests loved the sword much more than the pen what manner of host would she be to not allow them to play as well.
Her ruby gaze drifted back to the chaos as if it were little more than a few guests throwing fists at each other and not arcane beasts rampaging in her garden.
Irman Harefoot
Yet, much like a merchant accustomed to writing contracts his answer was so exactly right to the letter that she couldn't possibly disavow it. She wasn't the type to make a riddle with no answer or hope for no answer to come. So the look of sore bitterness that flashed upon her face was not due to the answer being found.
Of all the guests in the garden perhaps she should have known it would be someone so close to the council. Or perhaps it was less his standing as a climbing house and more his personal interest that lead him to think in the same patterns.
Luckily there came the emergence of the distractions she had mentioned giving her time to fix her expression back into a polite smile. She was still the host of the party after all.
Beatrice looked out at the garden of the growing scuffle, someone had smuggled their own toys in. Well perhaps if Tuncan MacKraser and the little rabbit put on a good show of a fight she might re-evaluate her opinion of them. She made a small gesture with her fan. Several servants as if plucked by marionette strings abandoned what they had just been doing and began either escorting the less martially inclined guest away or simply leaving themself as if exiting stage left.
The witch seemed remarkably unphased for having several arcane beasts stomping about, seemingly headed directly for her.
She offered a sidelong glance to the Lord commander Afanas "Well, now I do believe several citizens at this very table are in danger. Perhaps you could give Mr. MacKraser a hand."
Her mood slightly improved she turned to Lord Iskandar and Lady Pneria.
"Hm, seeing as you seem to be sharing a card I will hold of on my seal so that Lady Pneria may make another attempt if she wishes. In the mean time you have earned a token of my recognition. She held out her hand and one of the very few servants remaining a doll like maid placed a small golden brooch into her palm.
She held this out for Lord Iskandar to take. It was in the shape of a small golden butterfly. A discerning eye would be able to see that it was more than a bit of expensive jewelry.
"With this I the golden witch recognize the holder of this brooch has provided the solution which I sought. It allows entry through the barrier into the mansion. You may shelter there with your companion if this entertainment is not to her taste."
Indeed the prize for the true answer was a sort of badge as if to declare this guest fit for attempting a much larger riddle. She held out hope that perhaps it would not be the only brooch she awarded but she doubted more attempts would be made while these gargoyles ran amok. She didn't let it sour her mood. Some guests loved the sword much more than the pen what manner of host would she be to not allow them to play as well.
Her ruby gaze drifted back to the chaos as if it were little more than a few guests throwing fists at each other and not arcane beasts rampaging in her garden.
Irman Harefoot