Open Chronicles The Dancing Flame..

[Srivani]

She followed the elf's gaze and she cast him a bright smile. He wanted to speak to her? Once upon a time she loved this kind of story; when she was just a child and the world was small and she dreamed of open doors. Sri spent most of her time alone, aside from the few servants assigned to take care of her, but they didn't talk much. But this elf could sing so beautifully and play music better than any of the king's musicians could.

Srivani watched him move through the crowd and gave another bow to the applauding crowd before she rushed off after him. She had only made it a few short steps when a hand closed around her wrist and gripped, drawing a gasp from her lips as she turned to see the scowling guard. She frowned wordlessly and looked toward the king, the guard following her gaze. The stout old man in his ridiculous throne had his gaze narrowed on her. He wasn't about to let his most valuable thing just wander off to be alone in the company of some stranger, but when she gave him a pleading look he waved a hand in dismissal to the guard who let go of her immediately, but kept a distance behind her.

She found him waiting and glanced over her shoulder to the man standing watch, but as she turned back to the elf she smiled, her eyes like chipped amber. "Thank you.." she dipped her chin politely, "Your music was wonderful." she said, her common slightly broken and her accent thick and foreign despite all of the years she'd lived here. To be allowed to speak with anyone at all was a rarity. "What is name? Ah, your name?.." she amended and cleared her throat with another awkward glance to the guard, feeling his eyes burning into her back.

 

[Elliot Aldmar]

Risk and reward.

The assessments thereof would ultimately determine Elliot's play. Factors to consider: the payout from the benefactor was going to be substantial (and why not, if he was going to do what Elliot thought he was going to do and ransom Srivani back to the King), but coin was something that was readily sourced through plenty of other means. His cover, carefully crafted for this task, was a kind of currency not so readily acquired--his cover and all of the things he could also do with said cover, it should be noted.

From the very beginning, Elliot had secretly kept his commitments in line with his own motives more than those of his benefactor. In the end, it would be seen just how much they overlapped. If there was too much risk in any attempt to interact with Srivani, then he could simply fold his hand. His benefactor would be furious, but there were decisive solutions to that problem--and the cover of Darrethyn Ilsendrith would remain intact.

And there was at least one glaring problem Elliot just witnessed: a lack of complacency around the Fire Dancer. Srivani had just, after a quick bow to the crowd, attempted to go off on her own. Elliot wasn't sure to where she wanted to go but it hardly mattered. A guard, in disgustingly Obanese fashion, snapped ahold of Srivani's wrist as if she were a child, restraining her. Such stringent vigilance upon her would make the completion of this task untenable. Risk and reward again.

Elliot, however, missed what happened after that with Srivani and the guard.

Because none other than Valren Damyr--the one man out of all the others, save for the King himself, that he was trying to avoid--sat down next to him. A unique problem, because while Elliot would rather not speak with him, Darreth would. And he did desire to maintain his cover.

So Elliot crossed his legs. Lounged back luxuriously on the bench. Cast a small sidelong--and slightly intoxicated--glance over to Val. Said casually, "You Obanese are well acquainted with hosting lavish galas, and no mistake. Perhaps a man of my tastes would indeed be better suited to make my home here rather than in Dornoch."

A genial smile, right on cue.

"Darrethyn Ilsendrith, but it is such a lovely evening that Darreth will do just fine. And you, friend?"

Srivani Val Igni Ymaranath Ythys Charlotte Beaufort Amrose Isiell Varys San'Seya Kristopher Mortas

 

[Amalric Urahil]

The elf leaned against the wall, lyre slung low on his hip, arms crossed. Strands of auburn hung low over his face, until he lifted his chin at Srivani’s approach.

Here in the alcove, the only light came from a smoldering brazier, which cast flickering shadows across the elf’s scarred face. His lips twitched slightly at her words and his gaze flicked beyond her to the guard.

“Amrose,” he replied, his soft, gentle tone utterly at odds with the harsh lines criss-crossing his face.

He took a step forward so that only inches separated the two of them.

The guard spoke up, “Hey now-“

Amrose stared directly at him. “You look tired.”

The guard’s eyelids abruptly fluttered closed and he stood swaying on his feet.

Amrose looked back to her now. “And you are?”

 

[Isiell]

"Interesting," Isiell murmured as she took a sip of wine. The white-haired lad had some sort of familiarity about him, and in the moment that their eyes had met as she casually observed the group, she'd felt the threads of chaos start to swirl around him. "Yes, very interesting."

The portly woman returned her distant greeting, then, but only with a curious look. Isiell let her lips curl into an almost feral smirk. Oban women so far had reminded her of her mother--always playing a game to get ahead somehow--but this woman had an appearance so unlike any other woman she'd ever met that Isiell was intrigued.

Not too quickly, though. Isiell was still learning who the players here were tonight, and while she didn't care to get ahead of anything in particular, she wanted to know what invisible strings she might pluck in the same way this lyrist was plying the crowd.

Her attention returned to the Dancing Flame even as Isiell began to note other people present who had chaos swirling around them, ripe to be plucked. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for just a moment, though she didn't do anything yet to either fan the chaos or subdue it. She just savored it.

When she opened her eyes again, the Dancing Flame's hair was curls of fire, and Isiell almost found herself gulping down the rest of her wine so she could clap giddily at the sight. At the end of the dance, she watched curiously as the musician attempted to subtly invite the dancer to join him, and Isiell snorted lightly.

Sadly, the dancer was replaced by a rather lackluster juggler, and after a few moments of disappointing entertainment, Isiell lifted a hand and blew across her palm. A breeze twisted through the yard at her command, and the jester's knives were knocked off their path just enough that instead of being delicately caught and tossed back in the air, the edges of blades whispering along the man's fingers. With a startled cry, the juggler wrenched his hands back, clutching them to his chest as the knives clattered to the ground, and Isiell smirked, turning her attention back to where the dancer and the musician had vanished.

Wine goblet, now dangerously near empty still in hand, Isiell meandered closer to the alcove where the two had disappeared. With her affinity for flame, the fae could feel the brazier within that provided light, and rather than risk edging closer to eavesdrop, she reached for the flame itself to have it tell her what it saw.

The dancer might sense what she did, but she might not either. Isiell wasn't manipulating the flame, not causing it to shrink or grow. Simply using it to watch. And she did so just in time to see the musician command the guard to sleep, which was very curious indeed.

She meant no harm, truly, to anyone that night. But it was not often when a creature could impress a Duannan with their own elemental affinity, and Isiell was inclined to give the girl a favor in reward.

 

[Val]

"Val." He offered, simply extending his hand and shaking 'Darreth's' hand if he accepted the palm.

His father had always told him that he should introduce himself with all formal titles and full name, but it never worked for him. He could understand it in a business setting, perhaps the greater Gala's and meetings, but out here? On a bench?

No. That just didn't seem right. "Dornoch, eh?"

Val hadn't ever been to the city on the other bank, as it was called by many here in Obann, but he'd heard many things about it. His father had some business with some of the Nobles there, though who and what he hadn't been filled on yet.

He'd learned much of his fathers enterprises lately, but a good bit still remained obscure to him. No doubt by his fathers design.

"From what I've heard your own parties are nothing to scoff at." A smile touched his face, and he leaned towards Darreth conspiratorially. "And I heard your Palaces are much nicer than ours."

A chuckle escaped him.

He was sure the King wouldn't have liked him saying that.

 

[Srivani]

Her eyes seemed to borrow the flame that dimly lit the little alcove, her gaze dancing over his marred face with intrigue. He was not hard on the eyes despite whatever trauma he'd suffered, if anything it only made him more interesting. As the elf took a few steps closer to her, Sri tensed. The jewellery she'd been decorated with could feed the entire city for a year alone, but the King didn't care much about the trinkets and treasures, it was her that he did not wish pawed at, and so she knew that his closeness would not go unnoticed by the guard watching her.

The guard's words caused her to step back from Amrose, chewing anxiously on her lip as she looked to the guard, hoping her permission to speak with the elf still stood. But then, she saw the man's rugged face slacken, the fingers that'd curled around the pommel of his blade loosen and his hand fall to his side as he stood there drowsy on his feet. Her gaze snapped back to the elf, her eyes flickering with ember as they widened on him and she took another uncertain step back..

"I... How did you?.." she asked, her head tilting as she found yet more to study. Fire was one thing, people gaped and gasped at her affinity for flame wherever she performed them, but to manipulate a mind like that? It was the first time she could remember being outside of her room and not being constantly monitored, a fact she found both frightened and thrilled her, but she couldn't help but look at the elf uncertainly as she quietly answered his question.

"I am called Srivani.." she gave an ambivalent smile, entirely unaware of the smouldering brazier that spied on them.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Even his admission to nearly blowing her cover couldn't diminish her smile, though it did take on a wry edge. She was far more interested in hearing his story than she was dwelling on the misunderstanding though. One eyebrow rose at the mention of magic, quickly followed by the other at the mention of owing someone money. Her head shook and she couldn't help the bubble of laughter that escaped her lips.

"Well, how can I be mad when you've come back with stories to share?" There was a tinge of sadness in her eyes though, a tightening of pain around the edges which made them crease. Everyone had left to go on their own adventures. The only thing holding her here still was the worry they might come back and not find her. She pushed the thought of her sisters aside and focused instead on the person who had come back.

"So what's the job?" her eyes lit with intrigue. "Are you here to steal something?"

 

[Elliot Aldmar]

And I heard your Palaces are much nicer than ours.

A measure of personal opinion as to which were more elegant, and Elliot wasn't particularly concerned with such considerations. Maybe Dornoch's were nicer than Oban's. All the better when at last Elliot could see them burned, the rain of ash all to be what remained of them. And what vindicating joy it would be if the entire Erdeniin Dynasty burned along with them.

"Bold words. And maybe they're true," Elliot said. He spread out his arms on the back of the bench and gazed upward. "Though in Dornoch, I'd venture that it would be you and I who would be owned and dancing for everyone's amusement. Flame or no flame."

A look back to Val. Small twirls of his hands, the sweep of them indicating the garden before them. "Hence why I'm here, and not there."

He clicked his tongue.

"Exploring options."

Val

 

[Val]

"I prefer to keep my own dancing between myself and whoever has managed to slip into my bed that night." Val joked, musing for a moment as if imagining the scenario before snapping his focus back to the moment.

"Options, huh?" Val mused. "Never bad to have options, personally I prefer Alliria though."

He watched the crowd for a second, then spotted what he was looking for. "Lots more fun down there."

There was a quick gesture, one that was more than familiar among most nobles. He caught someones attention, a servant of some sort wearing the black and orange livery of his family. As the girl came over she seemed genuinely pleased to see Val.

A smile was on her face, one that seemed unforced.

"What can I do for you, My Lord? You know your father is looking for you."​

A frown touched Val's face for a moment, head shaking. "Yes I know, Bella. I'll see him later. Could you get me a drink? Rum, oh, and anything for you?"

The nobling asked Elliot.

 

[Amalric Urahil]

“Srivani,” the word lilted off his tongue like running water, like a sparrow’s song.

“Srivani…” he said again, reaching a hand up to brush back a lock of her hair, gray eyes staring into her own, unwavering.

“A beautiful name. A name fit for my next song…. Oh the guard? Don’t mind him. He’s just dozing…. Do you want to help me write this song?”

 

[Varys]

Stories to share? More than she could imagine. In their time apart, Varys had travelled all corners of Arethil and experienced wonders both great and terrible. What had started as an Illuminator apprenticeship had turned into the most incredible and life changing adventure he could have imagined...

And to come back to her? To the first friend he'd made on his journey, who'd made him feel normal for the first time, even if it had only been for one evening? It was perfect. Lottie had no idea how much she'd done for Varys in a time where he'd needed the grounding validation of another person. She'd helped him grow into what he was now; A Speaker. A powerful one at that.

"Stealing something? Not unless you count hearts. I do believe there was a lady at the door who was quite disappointed in my disinterest in her." The elf leans closer, chuckling as he would gently release her hand and reach into his pocket. The slight jingle of coins could be heard as he did flash a small leather sack to her from that sleeve of his jacket. "Okay, so I may still have a penchant for swiping dinner money here and there..." He admitted with a wink. Hiding his prize again, the lean figured mage leans back with a small sigh, his eyes shifting to the side as though ensuring nobody was listening in. With Niv, you could never tell.

"I swindled an old nobleman here with some fake coin a year or two ago, and I'm attending with him to make up for it. He tells people he's friends with a Speaker, they might just pay more attention to him."

He was still fairly certain Niv was just upset that Varys had bedded the woman he coveted, but the elf wasn't about to bring that up in front of the lady.

"That's a whole different story though... One of many." He would smile over at her once more, the soft features of her face that he knew belied a fiery and passionate spirit were a welcome sight. Truly, she looked quite beautiful tonight... "I can't claim to know what you're up to here, but later on..." He attempted to choose his words carefully. "If you want to get together and swap some of these stories, I'd love to catch up with you. No old farts looking over my shoulder."

Charlotte Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

The roll of Lottie's eyes was softened somewhat by the suppressed smile at Vary's unsubtle brag of drawing female attention. She supposed he was attractive - he had certainly filled out and put on muscle since she had last seen him - and there was more than one woman who cast her eyes over him as they passed on their way to the drinks table. The jingle of coins pulled her attention away from their unsubtle onlookers and a hand came up to stop herself from laughing at his admission. It didn't stop her eyes from sparkling and for just a split second her illusion slipped and wavered between Lottie and Laylah before re-fixing firmly on the latter.

"I would love that," she sighed and dropped her hand back to her lap. "I sometimes wish I'd agreed to letting you get me out of here for good," her eyes swept out over the crowd once more and her lips twisted into a barely hidden grimace of distaste. She had thought about his strange little wagon and offer to go on adventures more than once. Especially when Wren and Blanche had never returned. "I don't know what I hoped to do here tonight," she continued truthfully and returned her gaze to his. The smile she flashed him was a crooked thing this time. "Cause a bit of chaos I guess. Maybe steal something... precious," the idea came to her even as she said it. Gold and jewels wouldn't piss the old fart off but losing a pet? A precious pet?

Where did that fire dancer go...

 

[Srivani]

Srivani's gaze followed those fingertips as they reached toward her face, tense with the strangeness of being alone with any not in the king's employ. Her lashes fluttered as the stray tress was pushed back across her skin, and she felt her pulse pitch as she watched those storm cloud eyes stir. He wasn't supposed to do that, but then again he wasn't supposed to have put her guard to sleep in order to talk to her alone.

"A song.. about me?" she asked with a few bewildered blinks, her cheeks warming to a deeper shade of pink as she gave him a faltering smile. Srivani looked to the sleeping sentry over her shoulder before turning back and reaching for his hands to pull him sit with her onto the stone bench by the brazier, its smouldering flames casting her skin in a warm, orange glow setting tiny fires in each of the rubies that adorned her.

"I would like to hear it." she nodded to him eagerly, aware that she likely did not have very much time.

 

[Elliot Aldmar]

Elliot smiled along to Val's joke, this only half influenced by the necessity to keep his guise as Darreth going. But his days in Dornoch, and all of the more sordid things that he had gotten into before he had yet been tempered by the discipline and philosophies of the Dreng'toth, were done. Old memories, almost those of another man. They were at least useful now, in providing his smile with a genuine sense of male comradery with Valren.

Alliria...lots more fun down there.

"A great place to visit. For me, not the ideal place to stay." And here were all Darreth's words.

Then Val called a serving girl over, and as they briefly talked Elliot cast a glance toward the stage, whereupon some other act was taking place. The Dancing Flame was gone, from there and elsewhere from the general crowd. Mayhap a sign that this was over before it had even truly began, the benefactor's ambition outstripped by the King's tight security. No matter. Elliot would not have accepted the task if he didn't have a backup plan.

Rum, oh, and anything for you?

A casual look back to Val and the serving girl. "Rum as well. That will do nicely."

Noted, then, in Elliot's mind that he'd be best off not introducing Srivani into their small talk. Undue interest shown would not be advisable.

"Is your father hounding you to attend to some drivel?" A slight rocking of his head to one side and back. "I'm familiar with such bothers, save they came from my fairer parent whilst in Dornoch."

Val Srivani Charlotte Beaufort Varys San'Seya Amrose Isiell

 

[Isiell]

"Srivani..." Isiell murmured, more softly than any human ear would be able to hear, turning the name over and feeling the power it held. It was a lovely name for a lovely woman.

How carelessy these mortals and creatures tossed about their names.

The musician thought so as well, but Isiell watched closely as he reached out a hand toward the dancer's face. Srivani tensed a little, clearly uncertain for a moment, and Isiell bound her magic a little tighter to the flame in the brazier in case the dancer needed aid. But it seemed she did not, and as the two spoke of a song while Srivani seated the musician beside her.

The firelight was lovely where it sparkled in the rubies and splashed across the dancer's skin. So very, very lovely.

Her attention was pulled away be the sound of footsteps and clinking armor. Isiell stepped away from the alcove as a guard rounded the corner, etching concern on her face.

"Are you looking for the dancer?" she asked, mimicking panic in her voice, and pointing across the courtyard to a path that led out of the party. "I saw someone pulling her away, over there. She didn't seem to be going willingly."

To lend credibility to her words, Isiell created a brief glimpse of flame behind a shrub.

"Thank you, lady," the guard said brusquely before elbowing his way through the crowd as he called for another one of the guards.

Isiell just gave a strangely gentle smile and nodded her head, then turned her attention back to the alcove once the guards had reached the other side of the yard.