Dreadlords The Anniversary of Freedom

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Zana

The Butcher of Vel'Anir
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"By Council Decree, this day will be henceforth known as the Day of Freedom! One year hence, we shall gather in this square and celebrate the victory we had bled hard to win today. I know not what the Vel'Anir of that future will look like, but I know that I will look for your faces brothers and sisters. I will raise a glass for those who cannot fill empty seats and feast in their honour so they that they may know their sacrifice was not for nothing.

This day. This day shall be known as
Festum Libertatis!"
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Vel'Anir had had celebrations in the past. There had been pompous parades, lavish balls for he upper crust of society, and a free beer keg presented to those lower down the ladder on the kings birthday. But there had never been anything like this. A day where every man, woman and child felt swelled up with pride and rushed to decorate their homes and spill out onto the streets to eat, drink and be merry. There had certainly never been a time before that vendors had special prices for that day only, and the Houses had never before spent money on hiring illuminators from Elbion before to perform tricks to dazzle and amaze. The city was one roaring noise that would be heard from miles and attracted everyone. Even those races who had been doubtful of the new declaration of acceptance to all had chanced it to see with their own eyes the new Dawn the revolutionaries had brought.

"General?"

Zana had been staring with her arms folded at the spot she had killed three women who had been like sisters to her. The noise had faded to a din as the memory had unfolded but in a blink it was gone. The war-torn street now prettied up with flags, ribbons and streamers in a symphony of colours that attacked the senses.

"You don't need to call me that," Zana replied softly then turned her attention to the Dreadlord beside her. He was nearly as decorated as her. He was certainly as scarred. Louis had burnt himself out in the revolution with no apparent signs of his magic ever returning. His sacrifice had saved 50 initiates. Now he worked as a cleric to the Council who seemed to be slowly bringing change to the city. He smiled and shrugged.

"When in Alliria..." The smile faded and he put a hand on her shoulder. "The Generals like to keep up the titles on days like today. People want to use your title."

"What they want to use is my other title," she replied dryly. She'd heard it whispered everywhere she went.

...There she is!
Is that?
The butcher...
The butcher of Vel'Anir!
I heard she executed 100 Dreadlords in one day..


"Come on, the Initiates are waiting," Louis wouldn't lower himself to trying to lie to her so his tactic was to ignore it instead. Besides, he was right. Her schedule was packed for the single day she had agreed when she left to return to Vel'Anir. This was the only day of her life this city would claim from now on unless she wanted. It couldn't be any worse than her morning meeting Jiya Luana.

"Lead on," she could sign a few history books.
 
Well that went about as well as could be expected…

Zana hadn’t exactly spat in her face when she had asked her to consider re-joining her household, but the Dreadlords look had been enough to make Jiya cut their meeting short by a good half an hour. How her father had ever thought he had her cowed from the awful experiments he had permitted to happen on her, Jiya would never know. That woman appeared to be made of iron itself.

To push the dark and troublesome thoughts of politics aside she had decided to head out into the festivities by herself. Much to the chagrin of her Chancellor who had gone quite purple in his spluttering rage. Not being able to get the words out to reprimand her, she’d made her get away.

She’d found herself in the thick of the main high street where traders crammed in like sardines and thrilling entertainers danced, capered and cartwheeled up and down what little space they could carve out for themselves. It reminded her not of her childhood full of stuffy dances, but of the times she had spent at festivals in Elbion as a student. If she had been with her friends right now they would have found somewhere to drink and to play a game of dice whilst people watching. Standing up on tip toes she scanned over the heads of those in the crowd and spied one such establishment that had spilled out onto the street far beyond its no doubt permitted boundaries.

Sliding onto one of the long tables she ordered an ale and turned to watch as one woman breathed fire in the shape of a dragon and made it dance over children’s heads.

Funny that the day the city was most unlike itself was the first day Jiya had felt at home in it.
 
Thea raised the potion to her lips and braced herself for the foul taste she knew would follow. Still, she swallowed it down and tucked the half-empty vial away for later. She exhaled. The taste never got any better, but she preferred it to walking around with a cold all day.

Especially on a day of celebration! Vel'Anir didn't have many of those as of late, not for Dreadlords, anyways. She can hardly remember the last time she simply enjoyed herself. Her expression darkened. "I'm lying to myself, I could remember if I tried. But whenever I think back to the Academy, all I see now is..." She shuddered.

No, she wasn't going to let bad memories ruin her day.

She donned her favorite dress, looking more like a peasant girl than a Dreadlord Apprentice. Fitting, as she hadn't played a part in the Revolution, she was on her final stretch of the Academy at the time. Probably for the best, given what happened. She'd have been helpless in the middle of a war like that. She wouldn't want the public to mistake her for someone who participated in the conflict.

She waited for the potion to take effect before venturing out to the main street. Only to feel anxious the moment she saw the crowds, and for a moment she considered retreating back into her room to read a book instead. She shook her head, took a deep breath, and stepped into the thick of things.
 
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Bastian had not been home in a year, no, a little more than that actually. Ever since that...incident with Aisling Weiroon and that Siren.

It had taken a long while to make his way through, to step against the bureaucracy and finally manage to reenter his home. An utter coincidence had also marked the day with celebration, though not at all for the return of him.

He was from the slums outside the city walls. A killer, and associated with more gangs that he could count. Yet it seemed that didn't matter. Not today.

The Celebration kicked off by the upper crust of Vel Anir spilled out into the streets and beyond the class divide. Even the slums seemed to roar with delight. Drink flowed from every tavern, paid for by the new Republic, and people ran around with joyous cause.

Not an ill-feeling floated in the air.

It was an odd, happy sort of return.

Bastian couldn't help but smile as he walked through the streets, utterly bewildered at what he saw around him. A heavy pack laid over his shoulder as he pushed through the crowd, offering a few 'pardons', 'excuse mes', and other trivialities before he ultimately gave up and just started shoving people aside.

Otherwise he'd get stuck in the fucking middle of the city.
 
Drastus had blown the conch and now he hoped he would be meeting up with Zael and Kristen. Maybe Kalix too and even Ryan. Who really knew. Unfortunately, he kinda missed all the action of the Revolution. He had been away on a mission with a few other initiates and Proctor Vernon and returned to an entirely new regime.

So, now came the hard part: deciding on an outfit. Obviously, his hair was always did and looking great. So he dug through his minimal clothing possessions until he found it. He wasn't sure why he didn't just go to it first, it was kind of his only nice clothes.

Undies? Uncheck, who needs em, its a celebration. Crisp black greaves? Check. Shiny black boots? Check. Black button up shirt? Check, with the top five buttons unclasped to allow his tattoos to be seen. The burns too. Slick and sheen purple vest? Looking regal and ready to mingle. Flask? Triple check. And finally, his pack with Rupert, just in case things got sporty? Check. He licked his forefinger and thumb and straightened his eyebrows. Popped in the rest of his piercings and was heading out the door!

Some time later, he was out in the square and looking around, marveling at the excitement of the people. It brought him back to a conversation he had had with Kristen.. apparently, this was the answer. So he would get to a higher position by standing on the fountain and look around for his friends.
 
Even after a year of a new Vel Anir, it’s not like the academy gave their students free days Willy-nilly. And while Everleigh would flip flop on what the revolution meant for her, others, and the future of the dreadlords, today she was more excited about the fact that there was a festival going on. A festival that she could actually take part in. Which was a horrible idea on the Academy’s part because if there was anything that Everleigh was prone to doing it was causing trouble.

Not that she looked like she could cause trouble. For once her hair wasn’t braided behind her, she didn’t see much of a reason to do so today especially since her hair was much shorter now thanks to that forsaken fire golem. The bigger surprise was that Everleigh had actually snuck out to procure something more… civilian to wear during the festival. A part of her thought it was stupid, after all she was even wearing white slippers and it’s not like loyalists had been completely obliterated; if they wanted a day to attack and make their cause known, why not do so on the day of a festival celebrating the revolution.

Or as some like to call it, a lowly rebellion.

Everleigh stepped outside to the academy grounds, grinning from ear to ear. A breeze blew by, her violet tresses flittering about her the same fashion her white dress did around the middle of her thighs. Rebellion. Revolution. Whatever. The only thing that mattered to her today was today was the day she’d do it.

Well, yer on time,” Everleigh said, a slight twang in her dulcet voice as she practically skipped over to her favorite blonde haired initiate. “Yew ready tew git yer ass handed tew yew, Zael.” Everleigh teased, her signature smirk gracing her fair features as she looked up at him, poking him in the chest. “Yew gotta keep yer eyes open tewday, because tewday is the day yew lose, Mittens.” She added before pivoting on her heel, already making her way to the main square where the festival would be.
 
Kristen had not been allowed to join House Pirian at large for the Anniversary Festival. Proctor Magomo had denied it, presenting an ultimatum: you either go as an Initiate, or not at all.

So the dress Kristen wore was quite modest in comparison to the others she had worn throughout her life (especially the one she had worn at the dance!). Her dress was ankle-length, naturally, and a soft, uniform beige. Her only other accessories were a leather underbust and matching bracers, and of course a lovely yet understated ruby pendant.

She had gotten ready and happened to run into Everleigh and Zael. Plenty of other Initiates had already gone ahead into Vel Anir, dispersing all throughout the city's various locales in search of whatever fun (or vices) were calling to them.

Well, yer on time.

Everleigh was still talking like that. She'd been doing that for days now. It was...odd. And Zael was talking...well, he was talking as if he were from central Vel Anir. More proper. Without the rural drawl.

Before Kristen had a chance to think on it further, or even to say hello to either of them, Zael spotted her approach. Grinned.

And pounced on her, putting her into a chokehold. GAH! WHY??

Everleigh Ebersol Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
Zael was wearing a very rippable shirt. You're goddamn right he was. When he won the bet over Everleigh, that was the first thing that was going to be destroyed. She put on a good Tarrow accent, Everleigh did, but this festival here? There was going to be something to trip her up.

"Very well, Snowball, would you like to hear some sage words from Mittens?" Zael said, speaking with the refined diction more typical of Everleigh or others from central Vel Anir. Like a city dweller. No prolonged pronunciations, no dropped g's, no colloquialisms like ain't.

Hey, look, there's Kristen. Zael grinned and leaped at her and wrapped her up in a perfect rear naked choke before she could even say hello. Her arms went to flailing about and she gurgled lightly in protest.

"I SAY," Zael bellowed, "FUCK THE REVOLUTION, FUCK THE REPUBLIC, HOW DARE THEY HAPPEN AND NOT EVEN LET ME FIGHT! I DEMAND A FUCKING REMATCH!"

He let Kristen go, and she stumbled forward and took in a big inhalation.

Which Zael smacked right out of her with an enormous slap on her back. She made a funny wheezing sound. "See? Kristen agrees with me."

Festive people lining the street were, rightfully, staring.

Everleigh Ebersol Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
Vel Anir - Virstraße

Elise sat on a small stage at a table situated slightly away from the street, half a dozen of her fellow Nobles and members of Parliament gathered there with her. They were not in the milling masses, though in disgustingly close reach.

At least to her mind.

Half a dozen such stages lined Virstraße, each one set up by House Virak...just like the rest of the street. The whole street, upon which the Virak Manor was situated on had been setup elaborately for the festivities. Some stages contained restaurants in miniature, others musicians, and still others nothing but raucous peasants having the time of their life.

Elise had of course paid for every little thing found on Virstraße, insisting to the Republic that this was her duty as a former Noble and member of Parliament. Decorations, food, Illuminators and even some actual fireworks for the children. All had been at the expense of House Virak. At least on this street.

Surprisingly she was not dressed in her usual flowing and lustrous gowns. Instead she had donned the clothes of the commons, well, not really. The style was the same, but her coat was made with griffin feathers and her trousers crafted with leather from Basilisk.

So, while her outfit still cost more than many in this street would see in a lifetime, she at least didn't look like a Queen.

Which was the whole point.

Elise was the gracious host of her people. The daughter burdened with an evil father, and the one who fought for the common Anirian. Least that was the picture she had painted over the last year. "Why of course Minister."

She said with a smile.

"I'm sure we can find you some more Wine from Oban." A wide smile touched her lips as he motioned to a nearby servant. She leaned in, whispering into his ear. The man nodded and then quickly descended a set of stairs back down to the street below, scuttling towards the Virak Estate. "My friends there send me some near every month."

A small smile touched her features, knowing full well that most of that wine was stolen by those very friends.
 
A day off, the words sounded funny in his mouth. He did not like it, but the psychological evaluators at the Academy had said that this would be 'healthy' for Alistair. What the hell did they know?

Orders were orders, so he would go and congregate with some of his friends, or maybe just enjoy the food. Alistair had tried to dress down as much as possible, but his well-put-together style and limited wardrobe hindered that goal. He often considered appearance the first chance at an impression, so very few of his clothes were what one would call...poor.

Even though he was busy at this period, he could not help himself from enjoying the atmosphere of the festival. The food, the music, and the people were a signal for what this new Vel Anir wanted to be. He could understand how it would be intoxicating for most people...just not him.

He knew Zael, Evie, and Kristen were around here somewhere, so that was who he was looking for first. He would try to have some fun with them for as long as possible...then he had to go deal with more...unsettling matters.

His father and mother wanted to see him. He had not spoken with them in nearly a year, except for the few letters that often just told him to go be polite with one person or harm another. Now, they wanted to see him in public probably just to make a spectacle about their son, the dreadlord initiate. The mere idea made him tighten his fist in irritation.

It was at that moment he saw the others and pushed any other thoughts to the back of his mind. He dodged through the crowd and over to Zael, Evie, and Kristen with a wave.

"Hello, everyone." He offered a polite half-bow to Kristen, and then a simple nod to Evie and Zael. He would just get punched if he tried to bow at either of them.
 
Lynus had barely left the keep in a year, and so this.. This was well outside of his current comfort zone. It had been yet another choice that had been taken from him, an event that he must attend in his father's stead. Refusing and arguing had only worsened the pounding ache that seemed to have set up permanent residence in his skull, and so here he was.

He'd asked for discretion, at least. He had absolutely no desire to attend today's celebration at all, but least of all as a formality. He was assured that they would be allowed to attend without any ostentation. That had been a lie.

Trumpets...

Fucking trumpets were sounding.

Lynus died a little inside and outwardly groaned at the sound so brutally announcing the royal arrival in only the most pompously ostentatious way imaginable. It was some sort of cruel joke, he was certain. A gazebo was set up, outfitted with a table and chairs and cupbearer, as well as guards stationed at the front and back, as though the twenty or so guards that surrounded them in uniform formation right now weren't enough.

"So much for discretion... My apologies." he murmured as he leaned toward the woman on his arm, Amelia Pirian.
 
This was Amelia's first event on the arm of her husband and as the Princess of Vel Anir. Sure, no one knew they had been wed in a private ceremony. So to the world, she was simply Lady Amelia Pirian, the future wife of the Prince of Vel Anir. She also had every intention of speaking with her sister today so she could finally go back to Elbion. The plan would finally start to fall into place.

Amelia had been very excited to go the festival but not like this. The Princess hated all this bullshit and it was even worse now. She just looked at Lynus with the look and patted his arm with her hand.

"It is adorable that you think your parents were actually going to let you go out without all this fanfare. You are the Prince and you will be King someday. You do not get to just blend in and neither do I," the last part of the sentence was said with a long suffering sigh.

"Just enjoy the fact that you have someone to share your displeasure with..." She smiled at her extremely handsome husband knowing that at least there would be some jealousy today.
 
It was a day meant to birth revelry, happiness and celebration to every nook and cranny of an entire city. A day where not a soul within Vel Anir should be shackled with gloom or grief. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the energy of it all, the birds in the sky replaced with colorful scraps of festive paper flying through the air like the worries of the people beneath them.

To some it was historically significant; A demonstration of a new Vel Anir, accepting to all under a new rule. To others it was merely an excuse to drown in spirits and plow without consequence. A few just wanted to see the royals in person, a rare privilege from a peasant's standpoint. He was sure his fellow initiates filled all of those categories, one way or another.

It all felt so bittersweet to Henk though, and that irked him so.

The tall, scar-faced Dreadlord initiate walked quietly among the raucous crowd, like ant in a colony of millions that filled the streets of Vel Anir. It was a spectacle, undeniably... But this was a city that had never shown Henk an ounce of kindness. It had rejected him for his powers long ago, thrown him to the mercy of the Academy where he was turned from a human to a weapon.

It was his city, yet he held no love for it. It was just another prison. The only thing he cared about were his fellow Initates. That they could find enjoyment in this celebration was the only reason he saw use for it at all. They dressed up, (or down, in Zael's case) and brought their closest companions along with them. Henk simply wore his usual attire, a simple cloth shirt and trousers underneath a long leathery coat that wrapped around his body, and while he cared for his classmates, he was not close enough with any of them to feel comfortable around them, not when he felt this way.

The cacophony of trumpets and fanfare drew his eyes from where they lazily scanned the shops and banners all vying to catch the attention of passersby. The nobility must be arriving. The pacing of his boots against the stone streets slowed as the crowd directed their attention.

Taking a small bite of the bread chunk he'd picked up from a bakery, he looked anywhere but towards the noise.. This was going to be a long, long day...
 
"There you are Minister." Elise said with a wave as the servant finally returned with a bottle of wine. It was one from her personal collection, aged to perfection and kept in the cellars of the Virak Estate.

It's profile would have been lost on most, but she knew exactly how much the man at her table would appreciate it.

Everyone she had invited here today had been carefully studied, looked after. All of them would end the day on her side of the aisle, at least if she had her way. There were no sycophants here, just people meant to enjoy the splendors of House Virak. "I do so enjoy..."

Elise trailed off as the Servant neared her, leaning into quietly whisper in her ear.

A small smile touched her lips for a brief moment as the man spoke, fingers gently drumming on the side of her glass.

"Oh has he now?" Her voice was more than tinged with delight as the smile turned into a wide smirk. "Thank you."

Elise said to the Servant, a long breath drawing into her chest as she looked around her table. Everyone seemed more than pleased with their situation. Faces lit up, smiles wide and beaming. It was a show of how the entire street below seemed to be feeling. "Gentlemen, ladies. I do hope you'll excuse me for just a little while. I intend to walk the street, make my rounds of our wonderful city."

A few of the others nodded their heads, tipping nods and raising glasses as they cheered to the new Republic. Elise only smiled, tilting her head before she gently kicked back her chair and pulled herself from the table. A whisper was offered to one of her guards, and before long her path began to be cleared.
 
Landon scratched at his beard as he shadowed Zana. The family friend and guard shot frigid blue-eyed stares at anyone he heard mutter about 'butcher of Vel Anir.' And fuking Talus always got out of doing this shit anymore.

It wasn't that Landon didn't want to be here being Zana's personal guard.

She was more than just a job. He considered her and Talus family after all they'd been through. And survived. He was more than glad to put on his work boots again for this even if he didn't have any fancy-pancy dreadlord powers.

Sure, he was the best archer in the entire guard but it wasn't because of some squishy-magic.

It was because of godsdamned practice turned skill. A silent, inward groan. He supposed this was slightly better than watching the twins.
 
Thea ventured further into the square, glancing at each stall she passed. Sweets, jewelry, trinkets, "relics from the Revolution," and so much more were all for sale in the same place. Though it was only the first of them that truly caught her eye. Her gaze stopped on the nearest stall, her mouth-watering at the sight of all the assorted foods. She started to take her first steps toward it...

... When her attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of a familiar voice. One denouncing the Revolution in a rather vulgar manner. She grimaced, slowly turning to confirm her suspicions.

Zael Castomir, an old underclassman of hers, currently holding a girl she didn't recognize in a headlock. Around them were a few other familiar faces. They'd all attended the Academy together, though she was a year ahead of most of them, save Evereleigh. Maybe she should say hi?

Reluctantly stepping away from the stall, Thea anxiously approached the growing group of Initiates. Smiling and waving when she came close enough. "Hey everyone, how are you all doing?" she asked awkwardly. What else could she say? She cleared her throat. "Uh, quite the gathering huh?"

At that point, the trumpets blared and Thea let out a startled yelp. Hopefully drowned out by the sound of the instruments.

Kristen Pirian Zael Castomir Everleigh Ebersol Alistair Krixus
 
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"Do stop scowling," Zana tsked playfully at her friend as she stepped back from her brother-in-arms to walk besides a man who felt like a brother-of-blood. Landon would always have a place in their odd, growing family. "This is meant to be a celebration and you keep throwing people looks like you want to skin them alive," more than a few were clearing out their way just because of Landon's facial expression. If anyone was asked which of them was the Dreadlord they were more likely to point at Landon, Zana thought in amusement.

Louis lead them through the festivals cheery streets and Zana's eyes roved over the smiles on peoples faces both rich and poor, and raised her brows in quiet amusement as she spied a group of initiates who looked as though they might be about to get up to no good.

"I never thought I would see it like... this," she said in amazement.
 
Everleigh laughed for a moment at Zael’s antics before looking over at Alistair when he came over and she grinned at him.

Howdy,” she said to the Noble man, glancing at Zael with a sly grin, wondering if that could prompt a rise from him. Probably not. Her full attention then went back to Alistair and she raised a dark brow. “Surprised tew see yew out havin’ fun.” She said before nodding her head in a decision that it was good he wasn’t in the library today. He was almost as bad as Tinker.

Theadora? Been awhile.” Everleigh said, raising up her hand in languid wave. She would’ve graduated with her and the rest of her class if she hadn’t gotten as sick as she had whenever she engaged in her poison eating. “Ain’t nothin’ like seein’ a old friendly face.”

Her violet gaze moved over and caught sight of something else that was purple. Oh. Perfect. There was Drastus, standing there, looking like a date had stood him up. Perfect opportunity to turn the notch up on her little Tarrow accent.

Hey Drast!” Everleigh yelled, prancing over to Drastus. “WHATTA THINK YER DOIN’? GIT YER SKINNY ASS OVA HERE! We’re all waitin’ fer yew!” She said in a bellow that would even give Kalix a run for his money.
 
Luckily, Kristen got herself tidied up (hair just right again!) before Alistair showed up amongst their trio. How could he not, perhaps, was the more pertinent question. Such was Zael's booming bellow that whomever of their peers happened to be within this particular quadrant of the city would know that they were here now (and surely there were some among the populace who probably took silent umbrage with his...flagrant opinion.)

Kristen returned a curtsy to Alistair, smiling pleasantly. She may have been wearing a simple dress more suited to a commoner, but her noble traditions were still proud and prominent. "Greetings, Alistair! I hope the day is finding you well! Truly, what a marvel all of this is. Would you ever have expected such jubilation even during the most festive of days of the monarchy? I should think not!"

Everleigh spotted someone else (oh! Drastus! Splendid!) and went off toward him. In her absence though, someone whom at least Zael knew had taken her place. Who was she? Kristen didn't remember seeing her about the Academy grounds.

Alistair Krixus Everleigh Ebersol Drastus Tal'deneshaar Theadora Cloud
 
Howdy? Howdy?? Now Ever was being purposely cheeky. Howdy was more an rural Allirian thing--at least that's the only time Zael heard somebody say it, from a (you guessed it!) rural Allirian merchant he'd bumped into on the road while off on a mission. Wasn't nobody around Tarrow and thereabouts sayin no howdy.

Zael had to keep it to himself though, because any corrections made would've busted him out of character and he knew it. That's alright though, because he had his own plans for interfering with Ever's accent.

Which were put temporarily on hold. Ever went skipping off to bring Drastus's sexy ass over here, and wouldn't you know it? Look who it was, comin' in like a gift dropped by that big bird Velaeri during the Winter Solstice.

Theadora Cloud. Healer extraordinaire.

While Kristen busied herself with Alistair, Zael threw his arms out wide and stepped toward Theadora. He was ruing the bet with Everleigh right now, feeling the powerful urge to just talk like himself, but he checked and vetted his words before speaking them in a central Vel Anirian accent. "Well, look alive, everyone! We have among us a true and certified Dreadlord! Theadora of the Cloud clan!"

Zael stepped forward and dropped a big arm down on her shoulders, resting an undue amount of his weight on her. He canted his head her way, grinning. "Tell me all about it. Tell me how many harrowing scrapes and death-defying fights you've gotten into as a bona fide Dreadlord. Tell me all about the hardcore healing you've been doing--all those big, nasty, fucking gaping wounds you've had to heal, sweating, heart racing, someone's life on the line. I want to hear everything. Yeah, everything. Spoil me on the details, Thea."

Theadora Cloud Everleigh Ebersol Alistair Krixus Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
To those who had played the Punishment Games, Drast's second most prominent ass-et had been facing the group and when he heard his name, he did a pop snap and finger gunned Evie. Twisting fully, his best asset would now be facing the party. He perked a brow though, she must have hit factory reset followed by no more than three strokes.

Hopping down from his perch he would snap his way sassily to Evie. The free hand would dip into his pocket as he drew close. "Girl, I know your bony little ass ain't calling me skinny." Then came a slide the last two feet as the free hand pulled his pocket out and he slapped it into her hand. "Hold my pocket, Lowlander." He said with a grin.

He then looked over to Zael who was talking like a real boy. "Shit, Zael! You're little trading places spell in your diary actually worked?" He then waved to the others. "Kristen! Al!" His gaze shifted to Thea and he smiled. "If it ain't a fellow Cleric. How ya doing Thea, good to see ya!"

Everleigh Ebersol Zael Castomir Kristen Pirian Alistair Krixus Theadora Cloud
 
Alistair was looking between Zael and Evie with complete and utter confusion, before slowly managing to pull himself away to look back at Kristen. She was looking nice. A little more common than her usual appearance, but Alistair would have also preferred a look like that for the day's events.

"No, I certainly would not...maybe a fighting pit, but not this."

It was definitely a weird occasion for anyone who had spent time in Vel Anir, and for those who had been trained as dreadlords then the atmosphere would seem even weirder. Everything felt brighter and more light-hearted today. The people in the city looked different, that might just have been the smiling. Wait, what was that? The sound of laughter? There was something unsettling about hearing that from commoners in the city.


Al simply nodded to Drastus and a polite smile. Alistair offered another polite smile and a wave to Theodora who had joined them. He had not seen her in some time, but the life of an actual Dreadlord must be busy.

"Good to see you, Theadora."

Kristen Pirian Everleigh Ebersol Theadora Cloud Drastus Tal'deneshaar
 
Ryan really did not want to come to the Festival. It was a waste of a perfectly good day she could spend reading and drinking alone. Unfortunately, Drastus had convinced her that she needed to go and he assured her that he would have his flask. It was the little things in life. She was not dressing up though, nope, she wore her usual tight black slacks and a dark blue wrap shirt. Easy and cute.

She was thankful that Drast had been easy to spot from his position on the fountain and she started to make her way towards him. Ryan had no idea who else was going to be here until she saw Evie and smiled widely. She liked the poison eater. They enjoyed their games and their bets.

Unfortunately, Drast didn't see her and he hopped down to head towards the group that Evie had come from. She came up behind Evie and gave her a quick hug from behind. She said her hellos to everyone and then threw a look at Drast for dragging her out of her room.

Kristen Pirian Alistair Krixus Everleigh Ebersol Drastus Tal'deneshaar Theadora Cloud
 
Thea smiled and waved back at Evie, only to stop when she heard her speak. She blinked. “Uh, right, yeah, ain’t nothing like it,” she mumbled. Hovering between wanting to ask her why she’s talking like that and not actually wanting to know.

Zael’s approach distracted her, but only until he also started talking. She glanced from him to Evie and back. Oh, now she was starting to understand. As much as she ever understood the two of them at least. She smiled and rubbed the back of her head. “I mean I, wouldn’t say I’m from a clan…”

“Gah!” she exclaimed when Zael’s (rather heavy) arm fell on her shoulders. Knocking her off-balance. Now this seemed more characteristic of him. She stiffened when he asked after her duties. “Err, Dreadlord Apprentice, technically.” How does she explain that she hasn’t been allowed to do much of anything since she doesn't have a mentor?

She averted her gaze slightly. “M-my duties? Oh well um, there was an outbreak of chickenpox a few weeks ago, n-not life-threatening or anything, but it was making it harder for Dreadlords to work, so they had me heal everyone to stop it from spreading. I did, but my magic caused me to catch it myself, so I stayed home for the next week,” she answered lamely. For the first time in her life, she wished it hadn’t been so peaceful.

She smiled and waved (despite her current predicament) at the others. “Hi Drastus, Alistair, it’s good to see you too!” She giggled a little at the former’s additional comment. “There’s not many Clerics I know who bring a skeleton everywhere.”

Everleigh Ebersol Zael Castomir Kristen Pirian Alistair Krixus Drastus Tal'deneshaar Ryan Ashford
 
Liza had been looking forward to the day of the festival all week. Unfortunately for her, even her excitement for the event couldn't override her penchant for being fashionably late. Still the idea of a day off from the routine torture of the academy felt extremely strange. The blanket was pulled over her head roughly as she strove to ignore the midmorning light streaming through the window.

Liza crawled out of bed grumbling loudly to nobody in particular. Throwing on a simple knee length skirt and blouse, she fixed her hair and made her way off academy grounds. Liza ignored the stalls hawking trinkets and knickknacks. This was a festival after all, and in her mind that only meant one thing. Festival food. After procuring a large fruit danish, she wandered the streets just enjoying the festivities.

A purple haired girl caught her eye as she strolled through the streets. "Evie!" she cried excitedly running over to wrap her arms around her friend. Liza freed an arm and waved to the others. Wait. Was that- "... Thea?" Releasing Evie, she tightly hugged the dreadlord. "Thea! It feels liker its been forever since I've seen you! I mean, you are a dreadlord now so its to be expected. Have you had any exciting assignments? I bet a healer like you gets sent on all the tough missions!" Liza realized she had begun rambling and stepped back sheepishly. She struggled to contain her excitement at everything that was going on.

Zael Castomir Everleigh Ebersol Ryan Ashford Theadora Cloud Drastus Tal'deneshaar Alistair Krixus