Halcyon accepts Lucia's proffered arm gratefully. To Seth's embarrassed comment, she says, "As I have already embarrassed myself this evening, I doubt I have much face left to lose by bolting for dessert. Sometimes in battle, someone must sacrifice herself so that the others may take advantage of the enemy's distraction."
As she enters the hall, she notices Vincent talking with Valentina and Emile, but pretends not to. She pricks up her ears, however, to see if she can catch a snatch of their conversation.
“An aptitude?” Sinclair begins, releasing his hold of Raphael. “You got a small following of mages who worship you now. Loyal followers is the first thing a man in office needs. Get yourself an in with Voidwalker, maybe enter the college of the Divine, and the wizards of Durendal have a new defender.” He takes a step back, turns towards Ellen behind him and introduces her.
“This is Ellen Merlot, member of the Durendal Liberator sect. Her people have been strengthening our country for over 10 years now." Estelle audibly scoffs at the statement, though neither Sinclair nor Ellen pay her any mind.
Ellen is short, maybe five feet tall. A thin pair of glasses rests over her eyes, held up by her long pointed ears. Her outfit is composed of earthen tones, varying shades of beige and bronze accented with green fabrics. Her eyes are hazel and her hair a chestnut brown.
“The pleasure is mine. I saw the headline for your case. Haven’t had the time to read it, but I made a note of your name. It is a pleasure to meet another who seeks to restore our great nation.”
Ellen bows her head slightly, smiling at Raphael and Estelle. From the north, two more individuals enters the room, a golden haired man and Alexander Ravenhall. They chat idly as they walk through the lower vestibule. The blonde man is handsome, with a strong jawline and a small, honey-gold beard.
From upstairs, an abundance of footsteps. It seems that the front foyer will be filled with many more faces in a few moments.
Halcyon and Lucia walk out together, Seth closely behind them. Alistair rises from his seat, wobbling slightly. Aron comes to his side, attempting to help him. “A bit too much to drink, eh buddy?” Alistair nods, and the two of them walk slowly to the door.
Eduard grabs one of the chairs, lifting it up and returning it to its rightful place. He begins to undo his previous arrangements to the room. He keeps an eye on the guests as they walk out. Abigal waits for Eduard and they depart the room together, following the rest of the guests.
Beatrice thinks. “Then let us continue to wander. Wherever there are more people, that is where we should be.” Beatrice takes steps towards the plant room, with Darius and Marcus following behind her.
While Nishara and Tomas hover over a particular flower, a yellow rose it seems, their conversation is muffled by an orchestra of footsteps from the north. Beatrice glances out of the plant room’s eastern door, towards a growing number of occupants in the upper vestibule. “Well, it seems a grand migration is taking place. Should we follow them?”
Vincent nods his head at Valentina. “I will keep it in mind, thank you.” Vincent Durant turns his attention elsewhere, towards the Oracle that enters the vestibule with a guest. From behind her, a brunette man. Then a Galatian man holding up a stumbling mage enters. Shortly afterwards, a Galatian woman and her golden haired guardian.
Vincent scans them. “Well, there are three of the four.” He turns to Emile, grinning. “Time for dessert, no?” Emile returns the smile, walking into the vestibule, his hand outstretched behind him, reaching for Valentina.
Emile enters the upper vestibule, followed by Vincent Durant (). He looks around the room, now filled with ten individuals. “Oh my, it seems that everyone has dessert on their minds. It should be ready in a few moments, let us all go downstairs.” He walks through the crowd, now walking down the stairs, leading the crowd.
Halcyon descends with the crowd, listening to any conversations she can hear. Once in the main dining area, she requests a visit to the musicians of the party. When they stop to select a new piece, she says, "Bravo! You play such lovely music and with great sensitivity. Before you leave, I hope I can talk to you about where else you perform."
Halcyon is offering more praise than perhaps is warranted, but she hopes to make them more willing to share juicy tidbits of gossip they may have overheard while everyone ignores them.
If dessert is still not served, she will suggest a quick visit to the kitchen to pay compliments to the chefs and servers.
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Seth follows the crowd down the stairs and approaches Bertrand and Helmuth. "I hope the conversation did not die when me and Alistair left."
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Beatrice thinks. “Then let us continue to wander. Wherever there are more people, that is where we should be.” Beatrice takes steps towards the plant room, with Darius and Marcus following behind her.
While Nishara and Tomas hover over a particular flower, a yellow rose it seems, their conversation is muffled by an orchestra of footsteps from the north. Beatrice glances out of the plant room’s eastern door, towards a growing number of occupants in the upper vestibule. “Well, it seems a grand migration is taking place. Should we follow them?”
"it's, as good a plan as any"
A small parade follows Emile de Beaux downstairs. He looks over the group that has already gathered for dessert, lifting his hand to his mouth to cover a small giggle. He snaps his fingers. He continues his descent, in line with Valentina Silverstone.
From the kitchen, three servants begin to bring out dessert. They each hold large trays filled with an assortment of desserts and pastries. A rainbow of macarons, perhaps fifty, each a different hue. An assortment of cakes and pies bring the smells of a dozen baked fruits. Tarts, custards, croissantes, eclairs. Several Galatian desserts are also brought in, Angel Cake, fig puddings, biscuits. Even morsels of Tizonian dishes such as flan and marzipan speckle the trays. The servants place the platters on the table, retreating back to the kitchen.
Emile is at the tables now, placing a crimson macaron in his mouth as the tray is placed beside him. The rest of the party descends the staircase. First Halcyon d’Orsay, with the company of Lucia Varianna. Trailing a bit behind are Marcus and Nishara Tamarin, accompanied by Beatrice de Beaux, Darius Agnes and Tomas Parisi.
From the eastern staircase, more party guests come downstairs. Seth Varianna leads, his steps mirroring that of his wife’s on the opposite staircase. A Galatian pair, Abigal Bolton and Eduard Boltonward follow. The lumbering Alistair Hawthorne and Galatian Aron Carlisle proceed them. Vincent Durant gives a look at those below him, eyeing the guests warily from the balcony above. When the last guest reaches the front foyer, he follows below.
The guests all reach the front foyer four servant walk in. Two hold large buckets, filled with an arrangement of wine and ice. The other two bring out long trays, each inch of them covered with narrow champagne glasses. Bottles are placed on each table. Rieslings, ice wines, moscatos.
Several cliques begin to form in the front foyer as they begin to consume dessert.
- The first group, a rather political crowd. Raphael Montefiore, Estelle Bellerose, Ellen Merlot and Sinclair LeBlanc form the first group. Shortly after the dessert is brought out, the golden haired Asfal Stormborn joins them.
- The second group forms largely from the crowd that was upstairs. Nishara and Tomas mingle with Aron and Darius.
- Several members gather around Helmuth von Moltke IV and Bertrand Travere form the third group. Beatrice and Emile join them. Alistair sits at a table nearby.
- The last group consists of Vincent Durant, Abigal Bolton, Eduard Boltonward and Alexander Ravenhall.
10:35 PM. 1 hour and 25 minutes until the New Year.
Raphael casts a glance to the parade of dignitaries and nobles as they descend the stairs. He catches Valentina's eye and nods, smiling slightly. Returning his attention to Sinclair, his smile grows wider and he replies, "Truly, I wasn't aware I had such a following among the Mage's guild. A more formal introduction to the college of the Divine was something I'd considered before, but it seems I might well have to do so."
Raphael bows as he is introduced to Ellen Merlot, glancing at Estelle and making a mental note of her disapproval. "The pleasure certainly all mine, Mademoiselle Merlot. Any who have Durendal's interests at heart will find me a fast friend. I gather that you and Monsieur Leblanc have worked together in the past?"
Raphael is well aware that his defense would make him more popular with the mages. He seems to have an ulterior motive for not capitalizing on it to date.
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Halcyon pats Lucia's arm and says, "Bless you for helping me explore. I can manage on my own I think. Enjoy the desert! I hope we can spend more time together." She first makes her way to the musicians and pays them a compliment .
Halcyon then slowly works her way round the room, listening to conversations and gravitating toward the group Raphael is part of. On the way, she leans close to a dessert platter, as if to allow her to see the selection, then picks up an éclair and a linen napkin. She takes a dainty bite and stands near enough to the group to let them know she is interested in their conversation. Once she has finished the éclair, she helps herself to a flute of champagne.
In the corner of the room, three servants play music. One plays a soft flute, another a harp. A third sings. Their song is largely lost amongst the growing roar of conversation. Halcyon pays them thanks at the end of their song, and they seem deeply flattered. The servants nod in reference to having a conversation at a later time. The next song starts.
(Cha, Ranks, Class Skill, Focus)
(Wis, Class Skill, Ranks)
, -5 as she wants to believe you.
, Older Man.
, Half Elf Woman.
, Blonde Man.
, Human Woman.
Sinclair watches Raphael as he interacts with Ellen, a small smile curls at something Raphael says. His eyes follow Asfal when he enters the group, later darting to Halcyon as she hovers on the fray. Sinclair lunges back into conversation at the mention of his name. “No business yet,” he tells Raphael.
“Oh but tomorrow is a New Year, Sinclair. Full of opportunity, don’t you think?” She takes a small glass, filling it with champagne. The bubbles almost spill over. “Future partners, how about that, Sinclair?” He smiles, clearly happy. She pours another one, to the brim now, handing it to Raphael. “And maybe after dessert we will discuss a third?”
Asfal nibbles on a small treat, a cookie it seems. He doesn’t seem to follow the conversation of Sinclair, Ellen and Raphael, or rather seems distracted. He glimpses at Halcyon as she pays thanks to the servants, and glances in her direction every so often as she eats. When she pours herself a glass of the bubblies, he walks over.
“Asfal Stormborn” he states. A bit loud, but not too loud given the noise of the room. “A merchant of Durendale. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure yet. Miss?”
Tomas seems to be going into too much detail about a recent hunt. Aron looks a bit overwhelmed by the story, whereas Darius urges him to continue the story. Nishara stands in the group, but a conversation elsewhere has her attention.
Helmuth turns and greets Seth as he arrives. It seems Helmuth as found another sweet, fruity drink. A different color this time, an alarmingly bright blue. Bertrand gives him a small wave, but focuses on the now pale faced Alistair.
“Not dead, but your arrival will certainly rekindle it. We just were speaking on magic grade explosives.” Emile and Beatrice bounce from table to table, Emile taking his time to cherry pick the dessert trays while chatting with his sister. They begin to walk over. “But perhaps we can continue it later? This kind of talk is more suited for our type.” He greets Emile with a handshake, thanking him for the invitation.
Beatrice de Beaux tends her dress, attempting to wipe off the dry paint from it. She refocuses however, turning her attention towards those around her. She smiles, introducing herself to Helmuth. She can’t be that much older than him. “Beatrice, charmed.” Emile introduces his sister to each member of the group, and she gives similar pleasantries (saying “charmed” every time in fact) to each of them. After a moment, she asks a question.
“Monsieur Varianna? You are a mercenary I am told? In your travels have you ever met a kitsune?” Bertrand perks up, interested. She smiles. "Someone piqued my interest earlier, I think I have to meet one now"
Abigal Bolton and Alexander Ravenhall discuss old laws between the country, arguing their uses in modern society. Eduard and Vincent both stand vigilant, almost mirrored in mannerisms. They both peer over their shoulder, watching guests of the house, silent within their group.
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Marcus takes a deer near Estelle Bellerose, though he tries to make it appear as though his choice of seating was more or less random, having taken out a coin and flipped it before moving to his seat, he happily chose to partake of several of the eclairs, them having been something of a favorite of his,
He introduces himself with a slight flourish to his bow "Marcus Tamerin, at your service, does anyone mind if I sit here?"
Lucia breaks from Halcyon as she finishes. "It was a pleasure. Maybe you can stop by mine and Seth's tavern. It's just a small place for his mercenaries to gather and where he can have meetings."
Lucia then walks over to Seth and stands next to him. As desert is served she goes through and takes macaroon and eats it, smiling as she swallows.
Seth listens to Helmuth's response and responds just as Emile and Beatrice come towards the group. "I concur, we can continue it before the end of the night."
Seth goes through the introductions and listens to Beatrice's question. "Yes, I am a mercenary by trade. Unfortunately for you I have never seen a kitsune with my own two eyes. I have heard of some kitsune living about in the countryside, but I have never run into one. It is quite difficult to tell the difference between the two."
“Oh but tomorrow is a New Year, Sinclair. Full of opportunity, don’t you think?” She takes a small glass, filling it with champagne. The bubbles almost spill over. “Future partners, how about that, Sinclair?” He smiles, clearly happy. She pours another one, to the brim now, handing it to Raphael. “And maybe after dessert we will discuss a third?”
Halcyon jumps in at this point and says, "I hope you will consider the value of working with an oracular consultant to help get your partnerships off to a good start, if I may be permitted such shameless self-promotion.
“Asfal Stormborn” he states. A bit loud, but not too loud given the noise of the room. “A merchant of Durendale. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure yet. Miss?”
Halcyon turns to face Asfal, but she does not look directly at him, as if she is not able to see exactly where he stands. "Halcyon d'Orsay, Oracle of Roland," she says in reply. "Pleased to meet you, Asfal. I hope you are enjoying yourself tonight." After the expected pleasantries, she will say to Asfal, "I love stories; it's my passion and my source of both knowledge and wisdom. With a name such as 'Stormborn' I wonder if there is not a fascinating story in your family."
She gives her attention to Asfal, but tries to keep an ear to the conversation of the other three.
You aren’t able to get a read on most of the crowd’s magical talents, but you deduce that Estelle Bellerose has no magical talent. Sinclair, Ellen and Asfal each have magical rings, but Estelle is without any magical item. Sinclair also has an amulet on him, though it seems tucked under his shirt. Asfal has an aura all around him, coming from his ring. It seems to have a decent strength behind it.
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Marcus wedges himself into the largest group, asking if anyone minds. Estelle responds,“Not at all, please.” She shuffles slightly, her windchime-like necklace rings softly. “Estelle Bellerose, political activist. Are you a new friend of Emile?” Sinclair and Ellen converse, Halcyon mentions her status as an oracular consultant.
“It is no shameless plug, madame. If we couldn’t talk business here without judgement, we would seldom talk at all.” Ellen smiles at Halcyon, returning to her conversation with Raphael and Sinclair. “Think about it though. Between a law firm, a politician and an activist, we could make some serious changes, don’t you think?”
Sinclair walks towards one of the tables, reaching across it to grab a particular bottle. It is a rather extravagant bottle, its label handpainted directly on it. After he pries the cork out of it, it pours a clear liquid into his glass.
“You know I have my own law firms, right Ellen? Several I think, Katherine manages them.”
Ellen takes a sip of her drink, smirking when Sinclair pours his drink. “Yes, but Raphael’s firm actually does things.”
Asfal takes a few steps, adjusting himself to be in the direction Halcyon faces. “I was told my great grandfather died on the streets of Carnwennan during a monsoon, but a stray lightning bolt resuscitated him. It is a story worthy of a name I suppose. He pours himself a glass from the same bottle as halcyon . “A job as an oracle must be quite the source of stories. Certainly more than a trader. Are meetings by appointment only? I’ve been meaning to have a consultant for a while now.”
More bravios storytelling from Tomas. In his excitement, he slowly starts to use more and more of the Tizonian language. By the end, he is speaking entirely in Tizonian. “-I nock dos flechas en mi arca, aim, y disparé! Both arrows, en los rojos ojos de la monstrua!” Darius seems happy to see Tomas at such a state. Nishara remains silent, listening to another conversation.
Beatrice puts on a pout, and her brother laughs lightly. “If stories are true, the Kitsune may even be disguised as humans. In a city as large as this, we might’ve have already seen one or two.” He laughs again, Beatrice’s lower lip extends her pout. “If I knew of one, I would’ve told you. I’ll have to extend my network out looking for one.”
Helmuth takes a sip of his drink, staining his lips a soft blue. “There was a Kitsune criminal that Albert caught a year ago. The detective made over fifty potions to detect magic to find the disguised man. It was a funny story.” He takes another sip, dying his lips a shade darker. “He was only able to find the kitsune because of its disguise. Albert was able to follow the faint trail the magic left behind, the man could not hide from our detective.” A third sip, with a shudder, though it might not have been from the drink. “I believe that he is at Durendal Penitentiary now. I am sure I could schedule you a visit, Miss Beatrice.”
Abigal invites the bodyguards into the conversation. Eduard is caught unaware, not knowing the topic of the conversation. Vincent on the other hand offers an opinion of how removing an old tariff on Galatian items could be seen as a weakness in the eyes of some. While caught off guard from his quick , Abigal starts a small debate with Vincent.
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** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **[i]** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **...
"you could say that, My name is Marcus Tamarain, I own a bar and a couple of other properties, and I'm investing in agreculture as well, though I know that's not as glamorous as owning a law firm, or being in politics, I make a living bringing joy to people, and that makes me happy"
As the officer talks about how another kitsune was found, he makes a note to find a way to block divination just in case.
“A job as an oracle must be quite the source of stories. Certainly more than a trader. Are meetings by appointment only? I’ve been meaning to have a consultant for a while now.”
"It is one reason I love my work so much--every day I hear more stories. Of course, I cannot share any of them. But they make me better able to read the cards and interpret the signs." Halcyon hands Asfal one of her business cards. The card looks at first like a harrow card, but on the side where the image normally is, Halcyon's name and business address is displayed. To one side is a humanoid rabbit/man dressed like a prince with a broken sword. To the other side is a white unicorn looking at the Rabbit Prince. "If you talk to my clerk at this address, she will make you an appointment and tell you where to find me. I'd be happy to work with you."
"You know," Halcyon continues, "There is a harrow card called 'The Foreign Trader.'" She holds her deck close to her face and finds the card, showing it to Asfal. "What stories do you think this trader has to tell?" The Foreign Trader (image file)
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Seth takes a piece of cake and takes a bite. As Emile and Helmuth talk Seth takes another bite. As Helmuth finishes Seth swallows and responds. "That is quite interesting. That is a very good use of making someone's advantage your advantage."
As Asfal ponders her question about the harrow card, Halcyon pulls another business card out and hands it to Estelle, saying only, "I have stories you will want to hear." Then she returns her attention to Asfal.
"I shall certainly have to consider it, Mademoiselle Merlot." Raphael's eyes flicker across each of the faces his immediate vicinity and then further abroad to the other clusters. He catches Estelle's eye and nods to Halcyon as he addresses the group, "Halycon is a dear friend and her powers of foresight are remarkable. It can hardly be considered shameless self-promotion if it is so accurate"
Raphael smiles and inclines his head politely to Ellen, "I appreciate your praise, but I'm sure that Monsieur Leblanc's firms are more worthy then my humble little practice. It is, after all, just a few paralegals, a clerk and myself. I've considered expanding but I'm finding my time eaten up by family business. I've had some success with importing rare Tizonan goods in a branch of the MTC."
"I am curious, Ellen, what kind's of changes would you propose? I'm sure with the gathered assemblage of talent, some serious change could be had, but the question remains what you would like to see." Raphael retrieves a glass of wine and sips it, eyes continuing to dart about as he makes mental notes of what he hears.
Estelle almost looks surprised. “A tavern owner, how unexpected. It is just as you say, I expect everyone to be either in it for the money or for the power in this city.” She grabs a small porcelain plate, and begins to drop piece after piece of dessert onto it. “And a tavern owner hardly fits my perceptions of either group.” Her plate is a small mountain of dessert. She grabs a fork, holding it lightly with her thumb and index finger, before quickly striking at the first macaron. She chews and swallows before speaking.
“You mentioned someone owning a law firm. Are you perhaps a friend of Raphael then?” Halcyon reaches out, giving a card to Estelle. She looks confused at the mention of Halcyon's "stories," looking at the card as she listens for Marcus’ reply.
A smiling Asfal takes the business card, looking carefully at its picture before hiding it away in his pocket. “I’ll be sure to find your office before the New Year rush.” Halcyon takes out a second card, The Foreign Trader. He looks at it, giving her a second look, his smile somewhat fading before reappearing quickly after. “What a card.” He looks at it while Halcyon gives a business card to Estelle. His attention remains on the card.
“He looks to be a trader of secrets and artifacts. I am sure the right secret could fetch quite the artifact with such a man. He clearly has many more stories than I.” He hands back the card. “Are they a drow or a tiefling? In the picture, I mean.”
Ellen looks towards Halcyon, her glance shifting between her and the cards that she gave Asfal and Estelle. “One moment, Monsieur Montefiore.” She gets up, approaching Halcyon now “I can’t be the only one without a card. Ellen Merlot, fair greetings to you.” After receiving Halcyon’s card, she slips it into a small purse, smiling. “We will be in touch, Madame.”
She returns to Raphael. “Where were we? The changes?” Sinclair nods to her, sipping his drink. She clears her throats, preparing something. “Well, first we need magic documents verified with the Society for all visitors and immigrants. If all of our nation must register their magic, so must our guests. The strength of each caster should be determined on entry to our country”
She takes a breath. “Secondly, we need a tariff on magical goods from Galatine. As their entire nation is capable of producing such artifacts, the sheer number of imports are squashing the products of small magical businesses of our nation.”
Ellen places a strand of her hair behind her pointed ears. “It isn’t nationalism. it is a concern over the future of our nation. Guests like Abigal Bolton are great members of society here, but not all individuals seek such pure intentions with our country.” She takes a sip, eyeing Raphael for his response.
Emile turns to his sister. “I am not going to let you visit a prison.” This seems to be one of the few moments that you find Emile to not be joking. His voice is not light and sing-songy now, rather stern and deeo. Beatrice goes to pour herself a glass of wine, but Emile grabs the bottle before she reaches it. “Only one glass.” He pours it himself, giving her the flute of champagne.
cont
Beatrice doesn’t look defeated. She persists. “Well, do you recall the reason he is in prison?” she asks Helmuth. She takes a sip of her drink, savoring it.
Helmuth finishes his drink, placing his glass on a tray for the servants to take away. “A few murders. His name was Rodolph Gautier if I remember.” The name makes Emile wide-eyed. No one else seems to recognize the name. “You see, he would kill his target, take their form and then-” Emile’s glare silences Helmuth. Despite the entranced Beatrice, it seems Emile would like the conversation to go no further.
“Well, it was before my time in the Guard, I don’t recall all the details.” He searches the bottles at a nearby table, checking the labels. "Perhaps another time I will remember. It was genius on the detective's part though, you are right there Seth. I am guessing your men do more protection than bounty work?"