Open Chronicles The Valenntenian Masquerade Festival

[Lale Carvyre]

The Carvyre woman simply smiled, yet such an innocent picture was not as it seemed, not when she wore the mask of a fox, for a fox may change it's colour, but never it's character.

"It is the Valenn Festival, is it not? I am simply doing my part as one of the Descendant bloodlines to be welcoming to the strangers that make it here. You and I are strangers, but now we have made acquaintance."

Lale lifted her glass of wine to her lips, taking a slow drink of it before setting it down by her side, her other arm crossing her middle, hand holding her arm comfortably. "I wonder, how is your health these days? Your mask hides it well, but I have heard some things... It is a shame I have no come across anything in my travels that could help you, but such is the way of the Ancients, hm?" The woman mused aloud. "Perhaps to undo any... burdens by the Ancients can only be reversed by other tools made from their hands."

Konstantin

 

[Mikko Cendrillon]

Mik winced. He often wondered whether he could entrust his brother with his personal thoughts, but soon learned Malik was the type to poke fun at whatever Mikko chose to do or say.

"Well... if you must know." He was glad to blend into the crowd easier than the other Vanguards, but he still kept an eye out. "I hoped to dance with a particular lady tonight. I was going to see her before your ugly mug came into view." He smirked, taking the drink and promptly taking a generous swig.

"I suppose it cannot be helped. I'm stationed to take watch by the Hall of Faith... with a perfect view of the Tower courtyard and everyone else dancing there." He turned sullen again, looking down into his drink as if contemplating whether he should drown in it.

Malik

 

[Lyta]

"Hello, I am Hruugen and yes I am the Guardian of the Lightstone. The pleasure is mine Lyta, Solomon spoke well of you."

Lyta felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought Solomon would speak well of her. Over the last few months of her repeated failures to harness the new power of the Dreaming the stone had revealed to her, she would have thought herself undeserving of any kind of praise. Of course she should have known Solomon would not hold her to the same almost unattainable standards she held herself.

"That is very kind of him," she murmured, her eyes sweeping towards the doors as they opened to reveal the very man they spoke of. The crowd seemed to have doubled in size since her arrival just a few moments ago. Her stone warmed occasionally as her eyes drifted over another Guardian but it was none of them that she absentmindedly looked for amongst the masks. Returning her attention once more to the new guardian she linked her arm through his with her usual smile and warmth.

"Would you do me the honour of a dance, Guardian Hruugen?"

 

[Hruugen]

Hruugen's long and tight face smiled at Lyta.
He was unused to physical contact but he understood it was one more thing to get used to. He must adapt to the change in his life and meet it with grace and dignity.
"I'd be honoured Guardian Lyta. Please."
With his free hand he gestured to the gathering folk who took partners of their own.
"Though this dance is strange to me, I must ask you to keep it simple. Dance class was not one of my studies at the 36th Monastery."
He hoped his joke might land. Solomon had encouraged him to explore levity.

Lyta

 

[Mabbon Dreierg]

"You know... because I am..." She exhaled softly, laughing nervously, "a Guardian of Faith, too." She winced.

'Are you sure? You don't sound sure.' Sidestepping yet another dig in the ribs from his sister, Mabbon grinned to show he wasn't being serious. She has enough on her mind as is without my adding to her worries, he thought, grin fading as he noticed the nervous way in which Kaira fiddled with her skirts.

'A drink sounds lovely!' He said, turning to study the lay of the land, and to give his friend time to collect herself.

'Of course, amidst all this upheaval, finding one might be easier said than done.' Indeed, almost everyone had some sort of liquid sustenance to hand, except those who had taken to the dancefloor early. No, they do too. Offering Kaira his arm, Mabbon made to cut them a path towards one of the many circular tables laid out for the evening's events. Draped in white cloth, the majority were piled high with refreshments of all sorts.

Frankly, it was a miracle no-one had knocked them over.

'Excuse me! I think I just saw an old friend of mine!' Glancing at Kaira, Cynthia bowed her head. 'I'll see you both later, perhaps?' Watching his sister disappear into the crowd, Mabbon soon found his attention wandering back to Kaira. 'So, um,' he stammered, suddenly unsure of himself now that he'd been left alone with the Faith-bearer. 'How have you been?'

Kaira Yehven

 

[Kaira Yehven]

When his arm was offered to her, Kaira took no thought in taking it. They had spent a day like that already, arm in arm and looking at the exhibitions put on at the Gallery.

As the crowds parted to allow them through, many guests marveled at Kaira's costume, the faithful delighting in the reference Kaira chose to represent. "Beautiful..." Pink tinged her cheeks still, now noticing the astonished looks she got on the arm of the Guardian of the Stone of Darkness. Mabbon was recognisable, even with his mask. Cynthia too.

Many in Valenntenia held discontent with the Stone of Darkness, even some sermons spoke only of the darkest acts taken under it's influence as a way to warn the faithful from steering towards considered sin. But Kaira was Faith, a curious girl that listened to the stories her mother read from tomes written by past Guardians. She knew there was more to it, better than those that judged from appearance and hearsay.

So once Cynthia made her departure, and Mabbon turned to Kaira, she smiled at him with a kindness born of faith in her friend. "Well, actually. I have gotten more sleep these past few weeks than I have had in a year." She picked up a glass of what appeared to be plain apple juice. "Seems the Ancients' have nought to communicate since... well, for a while."

Kaira almost blurted she felt an ease of presences of those passed after spending an afternoon and evening in his presence.

"I... am glad to see you attend tonight. Glad for the company." She chuckled, nervous once more. "Villam would be courting Vazia tonight, and I would not wish to intrude on their evening. Lyta... I assume would have a bevy of suitors waiting for her and I never do well in that sort of attention... and... my grandfather would be celebrating with the Somners..."

Crickets! Just how hot did her cheeks have to turn now?!

Mabbon Dreierg

 

[Lyta]

"It's very easy, don't worry," Lyta gave an encouraging smile and patted his hand as she glided onto the makeshift dancefloor. Other dances spun around them but they were all caught up in their own conversations to spare a glance for the two Guardians. They were just another pair amongst the throng. "Now, if you put your hand on my waist here like so, yes that is right, and I take your hand like so, yes wonderful," the Guardian of Dreams gave an approving nod. "Now, when the violin strikes its next chord you step towards me, I step back, then we step to the right together, then you step back and I step forward. Are you ready?"

The violin played its next chord and on Lyta's nod they began. Shaky at first, but Lyta was as kind as her reputation made her out to be. Her corrections were gentle and her praise as warm as the sun. Soon she found she barely had to watch her toes and that conversation was possible once more.

"You are quite the natural, Sir! I must admit, I do not know what they teach in monasteries. What is it you studied?"

 

[Hazanko Miya]

"Wisdom, as well as grace," he said with a pleased rumble to his voice, and his head shift, as easy as a curl of steam, set the mirrors of his mask to dazzle and shine. Sparkle, as if to show the delight the fanged visage hid beneath its gleeful snarl.

"It would be my great pleasure, to treat you to whatever brew sates your fancy," he bowed his head. Slow as a measured cup of tea, and those silver bells draped long from the mask chimed soft. He held the posture, for as long as one might the kettle to such a ceremony she spoke of, as they watched the porcelain vessel, fill and fill, closer to the brim. He raised, quick and measured. The bells chimed once more as the mirrors shone. Their rays of light danced across her as he took in the sight of her. "Lady of star silk,"

He shift the mirrors once more. The crane of his neck, and point of his nose, almost a dance between them. And again the bells shift. Their gentle chimes, clear and crisp across the din of revelry and cheer.

The music swelled. A booming voice mastered the ceremonies, and the peoples around them stirred to dance.

"Do you dance, fair lady?"

 

[Konstantin]

What an irksome pup. It seemed that at least some of what Konstantin had heard was true: Lale Carvyre was a provocateur, a social surgeon plucking upon the nerves of her unsuspecting victims. The Guardian of Power politely took a glass of wine from the tray of a passing server.

"Perhaps, though I find it strange you would lump me in with our illustrious guests, Lady Carvyre. I am no stranger to our fair city, as you should well know," he replied to the woman, unshaken. He sipped from his glass, letting the flavors run over his tongue for a moment he savored.
"Goodness me, my health? Forgive me, my Lady, I'm not much of a socialite and I am hardly the most illustrious among my brothers and sisters of the Guardians; I hadn't expected any gossip to be circulating about me. How fascinating!"

Konstantin blatantly ignored the equally blatant bait that followed Lale's initial statement. He would not bother with speculation on any hypothetical devices that could "repair" him, nor would he entertain hers.

 

[Mabbon Dreierg]

'That's good.' Mabbon agreed with a smile. 'I am... glad to see you here, too. Though, I have my doubts as to whether you would struggle to find company on a night such as this.' The place was positively heaving, despite the early hour. Mabbon could sense and see a number of Guardians amongst the blank faces surrounding him. Friends. Or at least trusted acquaintances.

Konstantin, masked up and doing a commendable job of blending in, even if the man himself didn't think so.

Lyta, standing out as she always did.

There were others, of course, but seeking them out amidst all this merriment would be a task and a half. Currently, Mabbon's attentions were focused elsewhere. 'I suppose we'll just have to spend some more time together,' he thought aloud, his grin hidden behind a wall of silver and black. 'My apologies in advance-' He paused, tilted his head.

Was she... blushing?

'Looking a little red there, Kaira,' he teased. He could feel unfamiliar laughter brewing in his chest. Mabbon drew her along before it could escape. 'Let's go find these drinks. Can't have you passing out on me.'

Kaira Yehven

 

[Lale Carvyre]

Lale smiled.

Perhaps it was the vulpine mask she chose, the precise detailing to her eyes to outline them in a similar fashion, that paired with her smile, she looked as devious as the vicious whispers about her family. "Gossip? Oh, no." Her grey eyes now went to the many that now took to the dance floor, sweeping themselves to the swell of music that filtered in the courtyard and beyond the tall gated walls.

"Intelligence. Solomon is right, I am far from Valenntenia mostly, but happenings always make their way back to me." She turned her head to peer up at Konstantin, that goading smile still ever present on painted lips. "Unless your visage has improved, and your mask is simply an homage to what you had lost."

Konstantin

 

[Kaira Yehven]

"Crickets." Came the small whimper of embarrassment, her head ducking as she put down the glass she had no intentions of drinking now. Kaira followed Mabbon's directing, staring at the softness of her skirts moving as she walked alongside the Guardian of Darkness.

"You know you need not apologise." And she suspected he knew this just as much as she did. "We have been friends for a long time, have we not? I am simply glad I am lucky enough to see you again so soon. You all will be taking leave of Valenntenia soon..." Just like clockwork. Homecoming was not for another two and a bit years, and she will be left behind here. Her hand squeezed a fraction tighter, her lips set in a line at the thought.

"I... wanted to ask of you, whether your offer to take me to the Ancients' Dwell was still valid?" Her Stone heated, swelling with calmness and clarity that her cheeks began to return to the natural olive complexion. "I have been curious of it since those paintings we saw..." She had been dreaming of it, and visiting in her trances. She was always alone, even when lost in the all too consuming might of the Ancients' and their communications with their Guardian of Faith, where she always had a familiar face or gentle spirit speaking to her.

Mabbon Dreierg

 

[Villam Regis]

Vazia looped her arm through his and walked with him towards the courtyard, where the main celebrations were to be held. She could feel the warmth radiating off of him this close to him, as if the flames he wore were real.

For a few minutes Vazia was sure she was hallucinating this, that the void was playing tricks on her mind; but no, Villam was very much real beside her, his arm solid against hers. When he spoke, she was finally certain it was real.

She looked up at him, mildly surprised. So then was his nervousness excitement instead? Or rather was it both?

"Me too," she replied, returning her gaze ahead once more. Since he had asked her at Carvyre's 'party', she had been unable to stop thinking about Villam or his offer unless she had her stone gripped tight in her hand. Only when she was alone had she dared to set her stone down and let her mind awaken, in a way it hadn't truly done since Homecoming.

Better to have thoughts of Villam, even if they were anxious, than to have screams painted red dancing through her memories.

Villam Regis

Those two words were perhaps the first time that Vazia had shown any real enjoyment in his presence. The two of them had been spending a fair amount of time together but much of it was silent. What was said, was direct and to the point, conversations that were held in brief back-and-forths that left little to the imagination. Admittedly, there had been times Villam wondered if Vazia merely tolerated him.

He wouldn't have blamed her, oftentimes he found he was barely tolerating himself.

That she had been looking forward to this brought a strange relief to the weight he felt resting on his ember-clad shoulders. Unknowingly he'd placed it there, traveling to assumptions in his search for answers in the blank, emotionless void of her eyes. Tonight though, her gaze was not so empty. Somewhere, deep behind the iris, there lay truths he'd yet to see.

As the two of them ascended the long and winding road leading up to the shimmering Tower atop the hill, the fountain surged with purple light once more, the bright font of color colliding with Villam's blazingly red suit and making him appear more magenta, if only for a moment. Even this far up the hill, they could hear the music of the Chamber band playing from the entryway.

There were several folk mingling about the courtyard, few that Villam knew, and even fewer he wished to mingle with tonight. The presence of Lale Carvyre irked Villam especially; He knew well Vazia had somewhat suspected that Villam had only asked her to join him to draw Lale's ire. For him to once more parade Ferreira in front of his once-friend would only serve to make that seem the truth.

"Come, this way."

Villam turned off of the road, pulling Vazia gently with him down a side path, marked only by a naked strip of dirt among the grassy hill that the Tower rested on. He would not allow Lale to ruin this for him, nor would he allow anybody to be a distraction to what he wanted out of tonight. The path they took wrapped around the hill, eventually leading the pair to a smaller, dimly lit pavilion. Vines grew on its sides, and the lanterns hung from it were dim with age.

There was, however, a stellar view of the city from this vantage point, unobstructed by the Tower, while still allowing the music to cascade down from the courtyard to grace their ears. Yes, this would do nicely for now. Villam slipped his hand from around Vazia's arm to rest against her palm, his fingers locking with hers as he turns his body to face her.

"May I have this dance?"

Vazia Ferreira

 

[Vazia Ferreira]

The two walked up the path towards the Tower, reaching the courtyard crowded with people. It was harder to tell who everybody was but she felt Villam tense beside her and she followed his gaze to a woman who could only be Lale. Vazia thought her fox mask was very fitting and was glad when she didn't seem to notice Villam or Vazia.

Vazia wondered briefly if it was all just an act for Lale, but then Villam steered her away from the crowd, leading her to a separate pavilion. She did not think it was all an act; Villam was not that skilled of an actor.

The pavilion was idyllic; the scenery looked like something from a painting, what with the vines and lanterns. She was glad for the isolation from everybody else; the two had received multitudes of looks that were harder to read with everyone wearing a mask.

Villam slid his arm from hers and interlaced their fingers as he turned to stand in front of her. Vazia was quiet and still for a moment, before she gently removed her fingers from his. She then pulled off both of his gloves, set them aside, and slid her hand back into his. His skin was warm, nearly hot against hers.

"You may," she replied finally, something like a smile twitching across her mouth.

Villam Regis

 

[Mabbon Dreierg]

Mabbon drew up short. 'Still valid?' He repeated the words, surprised and a little bit ashamed by the way they made him feel. 'Of course it is, Kaira!' He turned to gaze into her eyes. 'I made you a promise, one I intend to keep. Honestly, I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to approach you sooner.' After their visit to the Gallery, it had been one thing after another. Vanguard business one day, Guardian business the next.

His accursed sisters and their interest in his adventures didn't help none. But if he couldn't make time for his family, what good was he?

'Just let me know when you wish to go, and we'll go.' They had already tested the boundaries of her Stone a few times, to see how far she could get outside the city before the Stone's insistence became too much to bear. Alone, at least.

Yet, as the Somners kept reminding him, Guardians were so much more powerful together.

Faith and Darkness were an odd match, but Mabbon felt like they could make it work. They would have to.

'Don't plan on letting you down, Kaira, despite what people say about me.' He could feel eyes on him, even now. Envious, distrusting - maybe even somewhat hostile. The attention Kaira received was nothing like what the people paid him. Alas, he was still a Guardian. Valenntenia might never love him the way it did Lyta or Kaira, but he was at least trusted enough to protect them.

He had been doing just that for the last seven years. The dawn of his eighth was coming up, just a few days hence.

'Sorry. I'm... sorry.'

Kaira Yehven

 

[Quacey]

A festival in an unfamiliar mortal city. One where they embraced the joy of personas and facades by placing masks upon their faces to match or compliment their colorful attires. It was a sight and event one would expect of the fae. One that truly would be rewarded. So when Ethir expressed her desire to join it he was happy to oblige. A break could do them both some good in their travels.

While she had become a beautiful swan after freeing herself from her captivity as a goose, he chose to express externally an aspect of himself. A moth mask in muted colors of the night with sparkles within the blacks and grays. His clothing the same shades of blacks and grays with bright white and silverthread embroidery to reflect the beauty of the stars and Twins above.

Quacey chose to use some of his magic to shift his size down roughly a foot so he might still be tall but not tower over the mortals as he normally would. The objective was to blend in and enjoy themselves not standout and cause a scene after all.

This act also allowed him to more properly act as Ethir's escort. His arm, freely offered, a less distracting height to deal with. His face requiring less of a crook in the neck to meet for them both.

His eyes idly took in the sights. Dancing. Feasting. Conversation. It would be enjoyable and perhaps a most welcome change of pace.

Ethir

 

[Kaira Yehven]

Kaira's brows furrowed, unseen behind the golden mask she wore, but her dark hazel eyes stared up at him as her lip jutted out in a pout.

"Oh, Mabbon!" She pulled him to a stop, stepping before him and peering up at him with a set expression. Her hands held his face either side, forcing him to look upon her and listen to her. In his presence, she never had to wonder what anyone thought of her, whether she had to keep a smile on her face to remain pleasant to the inhabitants of Valenntenia. "I know you speak with honour and promise. I know tthat. It is not just you busy with tasks requesting our roles as Guardian... I, too, am guilty of being preoccupied around Old Town." Peering up at him like so stirred a warmth in her.

Her hands fell, resting at his chest before she took his arm and once again moved to find proper drinks to start their evening. "You have never let me down, Mabbon..." Her voice was soft, almost cautious of her words now. "You have been a radiance to me lately... a constant. You know I enjoy your company, and..."

She knew there were more words to say, but she did not want to delve into them here at the Festival, not when her eyes could see the disapproval on some faces seeing the way Kaira comfortably attached herself to the half-orc Guardian, the Stone of Darkness his to wield. It only made her tighten her grip around his arm and rest her head at his shoulder.

"I will speak to the Somners, to the Absalon, soon about setting aside our duties... because I have a theory I could connect better to the Ancients if we visited their dwell." A hand went to interlace with his, her other hand squeezing gently. "You really think you can get us there within two days? As you said at the Gallery?" The Guardian of Faith angled her head, still on his shoulder, but turned her gaze to look at him, her friend.

Words wished to be spoken, but she kept them at bay with a smile.

Not here... not this night. She simply wanted the pleasure of his company, to perhaps dance with him and grin as his mere reputation kept other nuisance suitors from interrupting her. Mabbon was the quiet she had not felt since her parents were alive.


Mabbon Dreierg

 

[Mabbon Dreierg]

Mabbon nearly shied away as Kaira took hold of his head, forcing him to look at her. 'I know,' he answered quietly, without any real conviction. If anything, he found her kindness discomforting. So rarely did he receive any. The fact she was honest in her affection towards him made it all the worse.

Still, he did not pull back from her touch. Even stuck in his own mind as he was, he enjoyed the feelings her words stirred in his heart.

No wonder she was the Guardian of Faith. Kaira had a voice he could just sit and listen to for days on end.

A soft hand brushed his own, and soon they were on the move again. Allowing himself to be led, Mabbon nodded, recalling as he did the Ancients' Dwell and the roads leading to it. 'Two days,' he assured her, certain in both himself and the Guardian by his side. 'Assuming we are not waylaid, of course. The route I suggest we take is seldom used, but it is not unheard of to encounter pilgrims along the way.'

Many would wish to join them, if they could. For safety, and because of what Kaira represented.

'Ah, here we go!' Untwining himself from Kaira's grasp, the half-orc managed to nab them two glasses of champagne. 'For you,' he smiled sheepishly, offering her one of the flutes. 'I hope you partake. Otherwise tomorrow morning's going to be a damn sight messier than I previously intended.'

Kaira Yehven

 

[Hruugen]

"The 36th Temple trained me in funerary rites, blessings for the dead, scriptures of the Nine hundred Heavens and the Six hundred Hells, embalming ritual, the ways of Dead Spirits and exorcism."
Hruugen felt strange saying it, it was not nearly so morbid as it sounded. Death relieved much suffering to the old and sickly. Rites gave peace to the living and certainty where none existed.
His feet stepped beneath him, finding the rhythm but he checked his footing all the same.
"And, martial discipline also, to focus body and mind."
He became aware again that he was so armed with his swords, though wrapped they were evident all the same.
It seemed to him this was a poor topic for such an amorous occassion.
"And you?"
He asked, not wishing to speak only of himself as he quickly checked and adjusted his footing again.
"Who was the Guardian of Dreams before they were that?"

Lyta

 

[Konstantin]

Konstantin made a point of appearing as though he had no idea what Lale was talking about, tapping a finger thoughtfully on his chin and staring skywards as though trying to pick out her point like a bird from among the clouds above. Suddenly he snapped his fingers.
"Ahh! Then I see you have working eyes, my Lady. Most excellent. But I'm afraid your 'intelligence' is flawed..."
The Guardian of Power smiled and took a drink of his wine before letting out a long, refreshed sigh.
"Mm, that is quite nice, is it not? Oh, but my appearance, of course. I understand your concerns, but rumors of my Stone's effects on my body are quite overexaggerated. They are merely cosmetic changes. I assure you, any affect upon my abilities is negligible."

He moved to have another sip of his wine before stopping and turning his head towards Lale, reminded of one last point.

"You are, of course, welcome to test me. As is the right of any citizen of Valenntenia."

 

[Ethir]

A festival in an unfamiliar mortal city. One where they embraced the joy of personas and facades by placing masks upon their faces to match or compliment their colorful attires. It was a sight and event one would expect of the fae. One that truly would be rewarded. So when Ethir expressed her desire to join it he was happy to oblige. A break could do them both some good in their travels.

While she had become a beautiful swan after freeing herself from her captivity as a goose, he chose to express externally an aspect of himself. A moth mask in muted colors of the night with sparkles within the blacks and grays. His clothing the same shades of blacks and grays with bright white and silverthread embroidery to reflect the beauty of the stars and Twins above.

Quacey chose to use some of his magic to shift his size down roughly a foot so he might still be tall but not tower over the mortals as he normally would. The objective was to blend in and enjoy themselves not standout and cause a scene after all.

This act also allowed him to more properly act as Ethir's escort. His arm, freely offered, a less distracting height to deal with. His face requiring less of a crook in the neck to meet for them both.

His eyes idly took in the sights. Dancing. Feasting. Conversation. It would be enjoyable and perhaps a most welcome change of pace.

Ethir

Ethir's arm was looped through Quacey's, an act that was much easier now that Quacey had magicked himself shorter. He was still tall by all means, but not by so much to attract attention. Ethir suspected they would attract a bit of attention anyway with their pointed ears. Even masks could not hide the fact that they were Fae.

All around them, couples in masks and elegant costumes danced and drank and talked. It was rare to see anyone by themselves. This was a festival celebrating love, which Ethir found a bit ironic considering her situation and who was by her side. She did her best not to think about it; for that was what Quacey was most certainly doing.

Ethir scanned the crowd, her head up, relishing how stares slid right off her. They passed a table piled high with glasses of a bubbly looking drink and Ethir got two, handing one to Quacey. Even at this shorter height he still managed to look imperious, as if everyone here was beneath him and Ethir supposed that was why many mortals disliked the Fae.

"You look rather intimidating," she said softly, taking a sip of her drink. It was spectacular; or maybe she just thought so because she hadn't had any quality drinks to compare it to, especially not recently.

Quacey

 

[Kaira Yehven]

With a smile, she took the flute and watched him for a moment before taking a small sip. "I don't drink often, only on occasion... and even then, it is very little." As if to reclaim her preferred perch for the night, she linked their arms again and steered him past the gates leading into the Tower Grounds.

"Alright. Two days. If we were to spend a day or two at the Dwell... then I should feel alright with the Stone... a theory. I last had to ride with a Vanguard on his horse as I had grown too weak to travel back home alone..." Not to worry him, she dazzled him with another smile.

"But I will be with you the whole way." She could feel the pull of his Stone, and her own warming in it's presence. A likeness of power, perhaps. Perhaps Mabbon was drawn to her for the darkness she did hide behind her Stone, but she was grateful for his presence nevertheless.

"Oh, Kaira of Faith! A lovely costume you have chosen! And Guardian Dreirg! I have to say you look dapper beside my granddaughter." Somner Arran Yehven approached the two, placing a hand on either one's shoulders and squeezed. His cheeks were red, flushed with drink as he celebrated with his colleagues. "Go! Enjoy yourselves! Love blossoms the most on Valenn night!" He laughed and was already moving to meet more Somners.

Kaira, of Faith, groaned and could not hide the undeniable rougue her cheeks took on now, but she did not shy away from Mabbon's side either. "Oh, crickets..." She winced, not at all feeling the pressure of something!

Mabbon Dreierg

 

[Lale Carvyre]

Lale let out a small laugh. Konstantin was an entertainment of conversation she had not had in a long while, but she knew when to play her cards on a night like this, celebrating the continuation of their ancient city.

"Oh, but I am no skilled warrior, Guardian Clay." She lifted her forgotten glass to her lips, taking a slow sip of her red before continuing. "My style of fight fares better with the use of conversation and negotiation, than it does my sword and daggers."

Slate grey eyes cut the Guardian a glance. "Unless you are open to a challenge of a champion of my choosing?" Carvyre held such an interest in the Stone of Power, and never quite witnessed it's Guardian in using it or showing off what he had achieved under it's possession.

Konstantin

 

[Lyta]

Lyta was no stranger to death. Scholars over the years had discussed and debated in great detail the role the Dreamscape played in ones journey into the afterlife. For many, the Dreamscape was where they chose to stay and linger, creating lives of their own imaginings long after their mortal bodies had become food for worms. It was still, however, a harrowing topic of discussion for a night of merriment. She felt her smile fade as she thought on what it might be like to spend most of ones time with the dead. The word lonely came to mind often. Could one be lonely in a monastery? A brotherhood?

Lyta was too well mannered to ask.

"Oh, the Dreamstone has been in my family for several generations," she artfully manoeuvred them out of the way of a particular couple who seemed to have forgotten the dance part entirely in favour of one another's lips. "Nobody is sure why it keeps choosing our line, but in preparation for if it did so again I often accompanied my mother on her duties when she held the rune. Nothing as exciting as the other guardians I am afraid." Once she would have been quite proud of her history, but since her journey with Mikko she had found it less of a point of pride and one of regret. What could she have been or done if she had had a choice?

 

[Hruugen]

In his mind he wondered why the stone would choose a single family. Solomon had spoken of destiny. Could a destiny be passed as one may a house or some other inheritance?
Perhaps it was the stone, maybe it saw something in Lyta's bloodline that called to it.

"On the contrary,"
Hruugen replied, noting the lowering of her tone. Mourning was not just for the dead. It was for oneself as well. The loss of who we were and who we hoped we might be was just as real as any relative or beloved friend.
"I think that dreamers often make the most exciting people. They dare to experience the unreal and swim the vastness of its waters. There is great courage in such a thing."
He checked his feet again and tried to adjust his weapons from getting tangled. At the Monastery, away from the world, Hruugen knew the company of dreamers, philosophers and poets. With their thoughts they shaped the world, gave it meaning and essence. He had read Qu and Morcar, the thoughts of Talos and of the loves of Oetha.
"At least, I believe that there is."
His mouth curled into a gentle smile and hoped he was not being too poetic.

Lyta