Private Tales Problems to Solve

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Ana gave Leane an apologetic look, reaching out to help her get it out of the dress without causing the material any harm. She gingerly handed it to Djana, wary of the woman and if she could handle it.

"You do know this is sharp, right?"
 
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She blinked, keeping her expression plain. Djana had handled swords before of course, though they were not like the blade that Ana offered to her.

In the desert even women had to fight, otherwise they faced being taken by a rival tribe. Djana had been taught the blade early on, and the Great Lord had seen to it that those skills had not faded. Revealing that to the Templar would be foolish of course, but she could admit to a small bit of pride sparking within her.

"I'm sure it will be fine." She state as she grabbed the sword gingerly, acting as though she were doing her best to stay away from it's edges.

A sharp whistle passed her lips, and in a near instant one of the servants appeared.

"Hide this within one of the gifts." She mused. "The banner. Roll it inside."

It would fit well.
 
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Ana gave Leane a sympathetic look and resumed her pacing, trying to numb her aching feet before they even left. "And if something goes wrong? Will you have a way of telling us or will the issue be... obvious."

Like a sudden army. Or screams of fear.
 
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"I expect it will be obvious." Djana said simply, though a frown creased her lips.

The truth was there were many dangers inside of that castle, not the least of which was NIall himself. There was really no telling if something was about to go wrong, not without revealing her own place in all of this.

She had to tread carefully.

"If there is a change I'll do my best to alert you." She told them. "Pay attention to the crowd."

That was the best way of putting it.
 
Ana nodded in wordless understanding, her fingers brushing the edges of her dagger handles.

"Is that it? Are we leaving now?" Asked Owin.

Ana tilted her head to watch the carriage be pulled up, the gifts loaded.

"If not, I'm going to get some fresh air," Ana murmured, pressing out towards the door itself.
 
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She wondered briefly how these Templar even lived. Did they not hold themselves to anything? Devotion to the mission perhaps? Her lips thinned, and she slowly nodded. "We leave now."

Earlier they arrived the better.

"We are expected." Djana had said word ahead that she was bringing two Northern girls to the Gala. The Count of course would be suspicious of her, but he would not move until he was sure that she suspected anything. For now he would put on the same act she did.

A dangerous game, but one that had to be played.

"There will be plenty of fresh air on the way." She assured Ana. "The carriage has windows you can open."

Had the girl ever even been in a carriage?
 
Ana relaxed a little at that, fanning her face and moving eagerly to the seats. What would Saul say if he could see her right now? She shouldn't wonder it in a moment like this, but as they set off down the road towards the next bubbling adventure, she found that she wished he was here with her on it.

Such thoughts were quickly dismissed as they set off and Ana discovered the previously cozy looking carriage was actually... horrifically bumpy. Every bit of it rattled with the rocks in the rock, leaving her vibrating and jolting at random intervals with no order. It was not only disorienting, but uncomfortable.

Horse back was much smoother.

"Um. Is it far?" She asked, voice strained. The jolting was doing nothing for her antsy stomach....
 
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She suspected the girl indeed hadn't been in a carriage before.

What horrid lives these Templar live. Djana mused to herself, mind wandering for a moment to what life would have been like on the other side. There was a time where it would have been possible.

The East had no Templar, not that she knew of anyway. The Sands were too hazardous even for their kind, but Vel Anir had one of their Chapters. She had spent some time there as a child, after the Great Lord had plucked her from the Tribe and sent her to travel the world.

There had been a chance, small, but still.

An amusing thought.

"It will be an hour before we arrive." Djana said as she gently braced herself. "Perhaps longer."
 
Ana gripped at the window ledge, sticking her face out into the wind and trying to clear her mind. An hour. What was an hour on foot. Nothing.



As it turned out, an hour in carriage felt like a night battling wraiths. Maybe more. As they approach she looked quite pale, sweat on her forehead as the motion sickness left her feeling sap of all strength. She said nothing on it though, eagerly stumbling out onto her feet and taking Owin's hands as they were offered to stablize her.

"I am walking back," she told them all, her sick nature dispersing into annoyance.
 
"Deep breaths." From the tone of her voice it was not a suggestion, Djana being the first out of the carriage door when they arrived within the Courtyard of the castle.

It was a massive thing, far bigger than anyone would have guessed with the surrounding countryside. The walls were massive, almost as big as those of the Fortress of Herath that Ana and Leane had seen during the first Templar meeting. The Keep itself seemed to loom over everything, it's dark grey walls accented by bright green vines.

Clearly this place had been built as more than a pretty castle, serving a function as a true fortress rather than just a pretty thing to look at.

"Fetch some water." She barked at a nearby servant. "And an escort."

Her tone was not kind, but was met with instant response.
 
They tortured themselves. All the nobles, what with these dresses that didnt allow you to breath and shoes that cut into toes like knives and transportation that made one vomit.

"No wonder you're so thin," she breathed with no explanation, leaning into Owin and taking those deep breathes. She finally saw the castle then, her back going ridged as she pulled herself up and eyed it warily.

"This isn't a home, it's a place for armies."
 
The servant returned with three small cups and a pitcher of water, as well as a man dressed in bright blue and red livery. Djana watched him for a second and then motioned to Ana and Leane.

They would need the drink. "This castle was built to protect it's creator."

Djana explained, her expression never changing and her eyes sweeping over the drab gray walls. There were stories of who had built it, a Nobleman from Vel Anir who had fled the city in disgrace. She had no idea whether or not that was true, just that the story remained.

"It has never suffered through a siege." She mused. "Perhaps no one has ever cared to try."
 
Ana drank gratefully, the moment quick to pass once the cool liquid washed over her body. She straightened, nodding to show she was more collected now as she handed the cup back.

"Why would someone want to siege a place like this. It's beautiful," she tried. Believable? She cast the woman a glance for approval, ignoring the bustle of servants dealing with their gifts around them. Owin departed to blend in with them, not even glancing back as he left with the wrapped scroll in his hands.
 
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"Drab." She stated. "But beautiful in it's own way."

If you were blind.

She hated this place. The Beauty of these walls she supposed was in what a soldier could see, but Djana was no soldier. At best she was an assassin, at worst just a murderer.

"Come." She motioned towards the escort who was patiently waiting for them.

Other carriages were in the Courtyard, ladies and gentlemen departing from them in an orderly fashion as they all headed towards a set of great double doors leading into the Keep.
 
Ana concentrated on walking with her right foot forward. And by that she meant the left one. Because left was suppose to step off first. Right.

Damnit.

They joined the line of bodies moving in. Ana had no cue what to expect as the entryway opened up to a burst of light and sounds. Ana reached for Leane's hand, taking it as she tried to school herself into not responding to the oppulant wealth all around them.

"To think how many lives we could save wth all this," she breathed to her.
 
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Djana heard the words, though she did not respond to them. Leane only nodded, looking around herself and wondering if this was the sort of thing Valerie saw every day.

She was the one among them who had ingratiated herself the most among the wealthy, the one who had planted herself squarely in the middle of everything. Ana had been right, she must have enjoyed it, and in truth Leane could see why. This place was...too much, but it was nice.

"This way." Djana said as she lead the two Templar down a long corridor, following the escort until they went through another set of double doors.

There they found themselves within the main hall of the Keep.

The opulence found there was thrice what they had seen before. Streamers of gold hung from the ceiling, a massive crystal chandelier, torches and lights illuminating dozens of people as they moved around and talked with one another. At one end of the roam sat a massive feast table, food and drink aplenty.
 
Ana was struck wordless of course, Leane's hand griped tighter as this time .... she did gape.

But that was fighting, right? They were 'ladies from the north'. There it was slower, simpler. Clearly not like this? That would be her excuse. She quickly gathered herself, the sounds and sights only as distracting as she let them be. It was nice to know so many bodies would be in this room. Less opportunity to be notice.

More of a chance to stare at the feast table and abruptly recall how little she had eaten. She swallowed hard, releasing Leane and trying to intergrate.
 
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"Spread out." She told the two women. "Listen."

That was really the best way to do this.

Djana already knew that they had been spotted, or rather, that she had been spotted. One of the guards had looked at her too long, one of the Servants had stared and then whisked herself away. They were not well trained, not as well as they should have been. "Talk only when you need to."

She reminded them quietly, then brisked herself away.

There was much to do.
 
Ana couldn't help but to drift her way over to the banquet. The smells were... intoxicating. Not even in her nice dinners with Saul had they seen food so...

There wasn't just a piece of chocolate. There were whole chocolate cakes. And meats the size of a boar-- no wait, that was a boar and--

It had become apparent that the reason she had been off was that she hadn't eaten. Her nerves were calmed now that the bustle of the Gala was in swing. She gathered herself a plate and stood off to the side of it all by a pillar, watching keenly at all the faces that went by as she took small bites of the overly rich food.
 
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Two women stood behind the table, one with an odd hawk-like nose and the other with a demeanor that told of royalty. They whispered quietly among one another, though what passed for whispers between them might as well have been the loud rumbling of an Elephant.

"You don't think..."

"No no, the Count has no Mistress."

"But he's been gathering so many girls from the country side. They should be practically teeming the Keep."

A small giggle erupted from the hawk-nosed girl, her eyes wandering for a moment before she raised her fan and concealed her lips, voice lowering but still audible to anyone who really wanted to listen.

"He's not sleeping with them you little fool."

The other girl seemed to frown out that, confusion spreading across her face. Hawk-nose smirked, and then gently grabbed her friend and began to float away with her, walking towards one of the corners of the room.
 
Ana listened, ears perked. Slowly... she floated after the group, acting as if she was walking mindlessly to a quieter spot as she went. She caught eyes with Owin. He gave her a quick wink, promising her he was aware of her location and he was good. She nodded into her plate, leaning into the next pillar on the other side of where the girls stood.
 
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"What could he possibly want with all those girls? Don't really need that many servants to keep this place clean."

The royal one spoke as though she were thick as a tree log. Her expression told of short patience, especially after her supposed friend had called her a fool.

Hawk-nose simply smiled, then continued.

"Do you remember what our fathers used to say? About how the Count was always looking for more soldiers?"

The Royal one seemed to frown for a moment, then nodded.

"Well, he's found another avenue. Putting the peasants to good use, finally."

A frown touched the womans lips, then a small smile.

"How do you know?"

"My father of course, I overheard him and the Count talking in the study. They really should pay more attention to whose listening to them, I swear they discount us at every turn."
 
A bead of sweat formed on Ana's forehead, a strange prickling sensation filling her as the woman spoke. A swath of questions came to her mind. Ana stepped around the column, recieiting a greeting in her mind. But before her left foot could properly hit the ground first, a rushing sensation overtook her.



She peeled open her eyes to find herself sprawled on the ground at the fine ladies' feet. A sheen of sweat was coating her face. In the distance she vaguely heard the words 'smelling salt' and 'fainting room'. Bodies pressed over her. Before Ana could process what had occurred, she felt a gentle dab of a lace hankie across her forehead. She groaned, realizing one of the girls was crouched before her.

"Are you alright?"

It was at that precise moment that her stomach heaved. She vomited all over the very clean floor.
 
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Djana heard a scream as though someone had been stabbed in the stomach.

Her head immediately turned towards the noise, keen eyes spotting a tuft of blonde hair among a sea of brunette. Lips instantly turned into a scowl and her head shook as she wondered what the foolish little Templar girl had done. Without hesitation the cultiat hiked up her skirt and patted the crowd.

Most gave way to her, though some needed a gentle push.

It was not long before she found the girl half kneeled over, vomit on the floor with another woman standing above her half in tears. Djana frowned, then formed a quick idea as her lips parted. "Quick!

She called out to a nearby guard.

"Fetch a doctor!" She knew one was employed here at the castle, and he would be invaluable in painting the right picture.
 
Ana felt helpless to her body's treachery, tears of frustration spilling down her face as she was reduced into heaving all the food from her stomach. Even then, she was a gasping mess of tears and bodily fluids, left choking on the floor as the word poison was uttered by the people around her.

Fear sparked in her chest. No, it couldn't be so. As she scrambled to compose herself strong arms came to lift her. Ana wasn't a small woman, but in that tight dress she felt as mobile as a piece of paper. She, the fuss, was quickly brought out of the main event and into a much quieter space with a lit fireplace and a fainting couch.

By then, the whole fit had subsided and Ana was entirely conscious of what she had done. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she told Djana. Expecting the worst, Ana began to slid her hand towards her hidden daggers.
 
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