No One of Consequence's page

From mid-air, the voice of the front receptionist could be heard clearly, "Very well, Mister Lori. I'll retrieve the key then."

Frowning deeply as Sasha nodded and rang out a good half-bottle of wine from the hem of her cloak, the captain of Lord Gallo's guards turned his gaze upon the agitated serpent. "I do not recall such a creature entering the estate with your party, Lady Ourson. If this 'Grak' understands you then command him to heel and we shall see your party out."

Lowering his blade, but not sheathing it, the huge man snapped his fingers and pointed to Lucio. "Get the master to his bed and fetch the physician from his prayers. In deference to Lord Gallo's feelings for your Ladyship, I shall await his command before filing any complaint."

"With all due respect," he sheathed his blade and with a jerk of his head, his men followed suit. Bowing his head slightly, but not taking his eyes off anyone, he continued, "As the Baron is now unable to receive guests, your visit has concluded. We will escort you forth."

With a soft moan, Lord Gallo passed out, snoring loudly where the ladies had set him down. Still on-edge, blades and spears pointed at Grak, the large, burly Zuck who headed up the house guard, responed, "Your companion, I see," before turning a furious scowl upon Sasha.

Pointing his massive talwar at her, he gestured to the destruction with an open palm. "So you are the one responsible for this madness, red woman! If our new Princess has any sense of justice, then her guards will drag you from here in chains for this insult!"

At nearly the same time, Lord Gallo's house guards and the quartet of royal guards who had accompanied Lureene burst onto the scene. At the sight of Grak, the nobleman's guards shouted and drew their blades. "It's a MONSTER! Lord Gallo is stricken!"

"Swollen Sprite? Fruitful Fairy," Russo griped, "Anyhow, it's tha ol' clunker with the big-bellied hussy with the wings painted on 'er prow."

"Jaro," it was Nial again, "you still want us to lock sh1t down?"

"Suuure, she's that wide ol' scow, Fruitful Fairy's 'er name."

"Yo old coot, it's the Pregnant Pixie!"

"Nooo, that's jus' what's painted on the side."

"Pfff, since when can you read, Russo?"

"Boy don'cha take a tone wit me. I'll whup ya so hard ya momma'll cry!"

Echoing from the horn for the next few moments was the sound of other people chattering before an old man spoke up, "Corv, you talkin bout that tramp captain swings thru here erry now an then? Ridger?"

"The Princess?" another voice called out. "I heard something big went down with her over in Elf-ville today."

"Oh you didn't hear? That good-lookin' elf-chick Dingle-face got killed by some broad with a butterfly."

"Whaaat, I heard there was another assassination–"

"You would think of ASS, Manny!"

"HEY BOSS," another man's split the air, "LOOKS LIKE THE COMMODORE'S SETTIN' UP A BLOCKADE."

"Yon't tink it's dem freebootahs naw?"

"PIRATES, WHAT? WHAT ARE WE–"

"HEY JARO, IT'S NIAL! VINCE SAID WE JUST GOT A BIRD FROM ARROWHEAD — WE GOTTA HOLD ALL DEPARTURES! WHAT'S GOING ON?"

Between Lureene's genuine innocence and Arion's fervent apology, the woman relaxed. "I see, so it was a misunderstanding on your part rather than an accusation on the part of the Princess... Please know that there are those who make such comments that are neither strangers to this city nor without malicious intent. If you will forgive me for assuming the worst then I shall make no mention of this to the others."

Once the three had finished dressing and Tut had breathed a quiet sigh of relief, she said, "Come, I shall introduce you to my mistress. If you have any questions the Head Hetaera can certainly answer them."

The elven woman pursed her lips momentarily, looking away towards the manse looming overhead. After drawing a deep breath and then releasing it, she said, "Contrary to what some might have you believe, there are no courtesans at this house, my Lord and Lady. The Head Hetaera would be... disappointed to hear that her Highness holds so lowly an opinion of us. Nevertheless, I shall inform my mistress of her demands. Will that be all then?"

"Well..." the woman began, distracted by the fact that King Tut was winding a small towel up as he glared at Lureene, "it would be courteous to inform her of this at the earliest opportunity."

There was a loud *CRACK* as the monkey snapped his towel, catching Lureene on the buttocks. As his angry gaze shifted between Sasha and Arion, as if deciding who next should be taken to task, the attendant hastily urged, "Had her Highness wished to meet at the House itself, or... perhaps by the shrine?"

Sasha cocked her head at Lureene's comment, but she had little time to figure out what her curvy friend was implying before the woman attending them asked, "Pardon me, Lady Ourson, but did I correctly overhear that the Princess wishes to meet with the Head Hetaera?"

LK Calendar: Uniens 23, 4210 — Lansday
Time: 3:15db (morning, 9:15am)

Upon reaching Tol Lonnduil by carriage and finding all but the southern stretch of the Wending Way unpaved, the Princess had opted to send her carriage on ahead to Lady Lammontari's while she and retinue continued on foot. Although the fog had long since burned away and the day promised to be hot and steamy once more, it was pleasant enough for the time being.

Rather than heading north along the river as Arion had done, the Princess' entourage instead kept straight on making their way down a smaller lane that was lined with statues representing famous figures from myth and legend. When Darvesch had inquired about them, a guard smiled and responded, "Elves may have all the time in the world, but it is still rude to be late to theater. This is a short-cut."

It was not long before the two half-elves, each from opposite ends of society stood in each other's presence by the reflecting pool in the villa's atrium. As the Princess entered, followed by her cousin, her hand-maiden, and several royal guards, the house guard who had delivered the message stood to the side and saluted, proclaiming loudly, "Her Royal Highness, Princess Alissariel of Silverwake!"

Then, nodding to Amelia and giving a turn, one arm extended to her, he said, "Your Highness, I present the Lady Amelia Echorn."

"Your Highness, Lady Echorn arrived without any escort save a black ocelot that walked beside her. As for my impression," he hesitated, trying to figure out how to phrase his reply, "she seemed aloof, almost as though her body was there, but her thoughts far off. Her... eyes have the depth of woman many decades her senior, but it is something more than just the elvish influence in her. Nothing hostile just... unsettling."

LK Calendar: Uniens 23, 4210 — Lansday
Time: 2:30db (morning, 8:30am)

It was over 2 hours past daybreak when an itinerant guard tracked down the Princess and her honor-cousin as they were making their way to exit Villa Sempronius. "Your Highness," the guard hailed, bowing at the waist, "there is a Dafari woman calling at the gate, she came bearing this."

Oddly enough, when Arion leaned out the window of the room, feigning to gaze off towards the palace, he could clearly hear the sounds of fiddlers playing in the nearby courtyard to the east, yet the sound of the elven woman jingling about were completely lost until he had pulled his head back inside. If the women had heard his whisper, they made no response.

Instead, the hostess merely smiled from behind her veil and curtsied in gratitude as she accepted the boon for her master. Upon recovering, she asked, "Is there any message you wish me to convey, my Lord?"

When it was made apparent that no message was necessary, she left the same way she had entered, pulling the door closed behind her as she departed. Once she was gone, and his intentions made clear to the women, the mage began to study the magical auras within the room.

The first and most noticeable effect was of a moderately powerful abjuration that filled the room — mage's private sanctum. That alone certainly lent credence to the hostess' claim that Sareth had spared no expense in ensuring his guests' privacy, it cost as much to make such an effect permanent as the transmutations with which he had enchanted his rapier!

Next there was the silver urn the hostess had carried. It too was enchanted, the vessel carrying a faint transmutation that maintained a constant temperature perfect for chilling the bottles of champagne and assorted white wines within.

Similarly, there was another spell, a faint glamer cast upon a statuette of a nymph that stood atop a shallow table near the pull-cord, although it's purpose eluded him.

Beyond those, the only other auras he could note were those upon your persons, and moving around the room did not reveal any further auras. Likewise, a quick inspection of the wines and hors d'oeuvres you had been brought, and of the cushions revealed no evidence of tainted food, poison needles or anything of the sort. The room appeared to be as clean as it was luxurious.

After the huge guard had made his way back outside, the silk-clad hostess turned with a flair of her hips, lilting notes chiming from her dancer's sash.

"I hope you find this room to your liking, my Lord and Ladies. You shall have perfect quiet and privacy here, Master Sareth has spared no expense. If you require anything," she ran her hand down a cord of braided satin that hung from the ceiling, "simply give this a tug. One for refreshment, two for my master, or three for the guards."

Upon reaching the door, she turned and asked, "Would it please you for us to entertain your guards, or...?"

"Why yes, of course, Sareth," the young elf responded. With a demure smile, gaze lowered respectfully, she said, "Follow me, if it pleases you, my Lord and Ladies."

With that, the black-haired woman began to lead the way, her movements still graceful and alluring in spite of her burden.

Even as Sareth gave a wan smile, there was a sigh of adoration from the returning hostess, a tall hookah with a silver body and a jar of swirled red and white glass, in her hands. After setting the device in front of the redhead, the mouthpiece respectfully pointed away from her, she crooned, "Oo-oooh! What an adorable little monkey! He's precious!"

For a few moments, she knelt by the redhead, happy to pet his golden head. It was only the sound of her employer clearing his throat that ushered the young elven woman back into her role as a dutiful hostess.

Eyes sparkling in the dim light, she rose to her feet in a single, graceful twirl that ended with in a bow. "Please, enjoy your hookah, Ms. Nevah. I shall return shortly with your drinks."

Even as Malinda ground her teeth against the comment, the hostess curtsied and began to sashay off. "I'll see about that hookah and some refreshments. Chocolate and strawberry, right Ms. Nevah?"

Light laughter escaped the timeless beauty as she extended a slender arm, pale skin decorated with henna spirals, towards a long, private table overlooking the scene below. "I shall see to it myself," she said, her gaze practically caressing the redhead's neck and shoulders as she swept past, silks brushing up against her.

As she moved past you, she pulled out three heavily carved chairs with thick, velvet upholstery before twirling to a stop beside a tall wing chair that had been turned away from you. In a breathy whisper, she spoke a few words in melodious elvish, her kohl-lined gaze lingering upon you as she leaned on the chair back with one arm, the other twisting sensuously in time to the music.

Although it escaped the notice of Lureene and Sasha merely gave the hostess a friendly smile, Arion could tell that the woman was casting a spell to detect their thoughts. Yet whether it was something in the air, or some subconscious desire to give the appearance of openness, he knew without out a doubt that it was only his ring that had girded his thoughts against the unexpected surveillance.

The elven woman merely smirked at the blonde gentleman, gaze lowered in an acknowledgement of defeat. "My Lord Sareth, allow me to introduce you to our Princess' lady-in-waiting, the Lady Ourson, and her exquisite compatriots. Lady Ourson, this is Sareth Antirel, master of this establishment."

The black-haired elf smiled, bowing her head at the compliment and she motioned for all of you to follow her up a broad flight of stairs that curved around to the mezzanine. "Sareth would be overjoyed to hear you say so, my Lady. Xerech is indeed this evening's theme."

As you proceeded higher, height affording an enviable view of the dancers, she asked, "Have you ever visited?"

The doors of the pub were tall, at least 15-feet tall, studded and reinforced with hammered bronze, their surface carved with scenes of sirens and sea dragons, galleons and giants. Outside them stood a pair of huge, black-skinned warrior, gold bands straining against their powerful biceps, and ivory-hilted tulwars on their hips.

Even at the approach of the royal guard, they remained unmoved and unflinching, dark eyes surveying those who approached, arms folded across their broad chests. From seemingly out of thin air, a slight elven woman who was their perfect contrast appeared. Pale of skin and dark of hair, she sauntered forward in gold-trimmed silken garb befitting a Xarakai princess, her many bangles on her wrists and coins on her belt and ankles chiming with her movements.

Ignoring the line of people waiting to enter, she curtsied low before the newly arrived VIPs, arms spread low and wide. From behind a gauzy veil, her voice was soft and sultry, mimicking the accent of the desert folk, "With open arms, my Master Antirel welcomes the honor of a visitation from royal envoys. Please, allow me to guide you to him, my Lord and Ladies."

Ruby lips and emerald eyes afire, she turned, a shake of her hips resounding like a hundred tiny bells as she entered ahead of you, a single finger crooked, beckoning you to follow.

Blushing in surprise at the unexpected attention from Lady Ourson, it took all the young woman's wits to recover, the winged-woman's very nature nearly intoxicating to those around her. Sasha's cheerful tone helped to snap her out of it and recovering she curtsied low, holding the hand Lureene had kissed to her bosom as if clutching something precious.

"Thank you my Ladies, and you also my Lord. I wish more people would take time to stop and smell the roses, as they say. Enjoy your stroll!"

With that, the young woman respectfully backed away, stars in her eyes. As you finally moved on, you couldn't help but notice that many others had been watching with interest around the courtyard, and swiftly flocked to the young woman, eager to imitate the fashions of those they saw as wealthy and influential.

"Thank you, kind sir," the girl said brightly. She smiled at the ladies' enthusiasm, returning the basket to her head as she fished in her pouch for Arion's change.

"I have some pins and ribbons, my Lady," noting the awkward way in which the blonde was holding her ginger, she offered, "If you would rather wear that as a corsage, I could trim the stem for you."

Suddenly recognition dawned on the flower-girl's face and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand before waving it excitedly at the winged-woman. "Wait, I remember you! You were one of those angels that fought off the demon atop Arrowhead the other day, aren't you? Did you come here to protect us from the pirates and the Zucks, my Lady?"

"Muses indeed, my Lord," the young woman agreed with a warm smile, blushing at the compliment the handsome elf paid her. "Well I have many lovely blooms that may be of interest if you have just arrived with our Princess from Ilmarond."

The young woman was a little taller than Lureene, dressed simply yet colorfully in greens and pinks. She seemed somewhat on the thin side as if she ate conservatively, though she seems healthy and energetic enough. Tanned though she was from her days in the sun, you could make out a smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks. Although Lureene doted on her appearance, she did not seem familiar in any way, she seemed to just what she appeared to be, a pretty young Patrician girl trying to make a living selling flowers in the square.

Holding up her basket, she pointed to representative samples of each flower as she spoke, "I have pink and yellow Hibiscus, stalks of red and white Ginger, red and purple Dahlias, orange Jungle Tulips, many lovely pink and white orchids, some blue and purple Delphiniums, and I also have one blue Passion Flower left as well."

As the handsome elf mulled over the myriad choices, the girl smiled at the blonde ladies and asked, "Would you like to smell them, my Ladies?"

"It was the tattooed elf, my Lord, she was advocating that her Highness speak directly with the Zucks to learn of their needs."

As if in answer, the servant from before hurried in and bowed in apologies. "Please excuse the delay, Lady Ourson. Her Highness is still holding council and dessert has not yet been served. Shall I bring more wine in the interrim?"

Theme: Princess of Hearts
Artwork: Alis' Luncheon Gown

With that, Alis stood, and the swell of violins and trumpeting arose with her. In a slow but measured pace, the Princess descended from the mithril-inlaid carriage, one section of her honor guard saluting with halberds crossed in the air as a second section fell in behind the musicians in the color guard.

After the Princess and the Marshal had proceeded forth, the 'scribe' nodded for Darvesch and Ieana to follow before taking his place behind them. Once he had passed, the second section of the royal guard fell in behind them, elven armor gleaming in the sun.

Inside, the nods and murmurs regarding Amhranai's commentary fell by the wayside, and Lureene finally was given some relief as all eyes turned from her to the main entryway. Just before she came into view, the herald leading the procession held aloft his baton and in a loud, clear voice proclaimed, "Her Royal Highness: Alissariel, Princess of Silverwake, and Vicereine Appointee of the Greater Dafar Protectorate!"

No sooner was the herald's clarion introduction completed, than did the honorguard take up position along the entryway, halberds held in salute as the Princess entered, Isaac at her left in escort.

The dress the young royal wore was a long, red gown that brushed the carpet as she walked. With its voluminous pleats and shoulderless corset, it blended both Elven and Patrician couture. Even though this made the ensemble somewhat simpler than what Alis might normally have worn, the gold accents, lace trim, and the bunches of of jasper 'grapes' securing her wine-colored shawl bespoke a practical elegance just as the fabulous Tear of Sumalya and diamond tiara offered no doubt that she was a daughter of royalty.

As Isaac walked, magical messages relayed from other points across the estate whispered in his ear.

"Lord Bonati's carriage has just entered the quarter."
"Palace signals they are nearly ready to depart."
"Sharpshooter atop the Greenview and the Vault remain vigilant."
"Nothing to report at 8th and 3rd*."

He had just arrived at the heavily armed front gate to see the very same elven woman who had healed his injuries just a few days prior when another report gave him pause. "Major, Lady Hlokenar has just left your estate without a guard, and is headed towards 7th and 5th*. She appears to be carrying a package of some sort."

* When residents of the city specify an intersection, it is customary to list the East-West street first and the North-South avenue second. (See Port Eldarion: Thoroughfare Conventions)

Even as Lureene, Sasha, and Gelik made their way back to the central courtyard to find Naiobe tempting a tiny fox with pieces of fruit, the city's Marshal was involved with more pressing concerns.

Security.

After what had happened at the Coliseum over a month ago, he had made a point to impress upon Arion and Tiniel, the Princess' secret guards, that a private meeting with a discrete list of invitees was more prudent than a more public forum. It was not an easy matter to convince Alis to delay her own investment ceremony, but the promise that more preparation time would result in greater attendance and a more memorable and opulent affair finally convinced her. He'd have to thank Gelik for pointing that out.

As he paced the tree-lined carriage roundabout, his amulet keeping him comfortable even in full dress armor beneath the mid-day sun, one of the gate guards contacted him via a series of message spell. "Major, Lady Mondracus' carriage has arrived. The Baroness is joined by a tattooed elf, calling herself Amhranai. The elf's invitation appears to be authentic, and matches the guest list, but... Sir, the elf is not suitably attired, and I am detecting magical armaments on her person. The Baroness does not appear to be in danger and she does not seem alarmed, but I can neither confirm nor deny the presence of any enchantments upon her. Shall I detain them for your inspection, Sir?"

"It's just thru that door, your Highness," Bernadette pointed towards the corner of the room. "The stairs you want are in the south wall and you can take them all the way up to the sixth–"

"Actually," Mariezza interrupted, "if you go up just to the great hall, there's a secret stairwell behind the Commodore's table on the east wall. Just look behind the center tapestry and you'll find it. That stair will lead you all the way up to the lab."

At her sister's revelation, Bernadette just blinked in surprise. "How come you never told me about that?"

Mariezza just shrugged looking a bit chagrined. "Didn't ever come up in conversation?"

Mariezza put a hand to her forehead, unable to look at anyone else. "Lady Lureene, if we go with you, would you still be able to fight as hard as you need to without worrying about us?"

She shook her head, unclasping her necklace as she did so. "If the worst that will happen if you win is some cabin fever for a few minutes, then it can only be worse if you lose. Here, just... just take it. If your highness is an honorable princess then I suppose I'll see it again. If not, then won't doesn't matter anyway."

Sighing deeply as she handed over the bauble, Mariezza said, "The Commodore, my father, only allowed me to tend to the housekeeping on the uppermost floors. His quarters are on the eighth floor, but I think the seventh is where you'll find what you're looking for. That's where the mages' lab is. Good luck..."

"Th– the Governor AND the Marshal?!" Bernadette stammered. Her face, already pale at Lureene's suggestion, was positively ashen when she saw Isaac's ranks and insignia and knew that he must be telling the truth. "Begging your pardon, your highness... sir... I know it's not my place but... but why didn't you just come out and say so?"

"My necklace does that?" Mariezza blinked in surprise as she ran her fingers along the length of the gold necklace. "Well the only thing I can imagine is–"

"RIEZZY!" Bernadette interjected, grasping her by the shoulder. In a low tone, she hissed "We don't even know who these people ARE! They just busted in here, pointing bows at us, and that one with the wings started threatening us. In our own home! Who knows what they want...""

Although it eluded Lureene, the others realized that it wasn't merely spiteful pride that elicited Bernadette's caution, but duty.

"Miss Alis, could that have been the poison doing that to her? And you think the necklace the Commodore gave me stopped it somehow?"

Even as Mariezza asked her question, Lureene finished identifying the necklace's properties.

MAP: Arrowhead Citadel, (Round 195 / 2:33db)

As Lureene continued to examine her necklace, Mariezza turned to her sister, a concerned look on her face, "Bernie, you were moaning something weird about being too sleepy to cook and too hungry to sleep a minute ago. You didn't even seem to recognize me until I gave you a good hug. Miss, um..." She moved her head to the side, trying to see around Lureene's wings toward the swashbuckler.

"Not that I suppose I have much of a choice but.." Mariezza climbed out from under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked entirely unsettled by the strange woman standing well within her personal space, hands so close to her throat.

Holding onto her sister's hand for comfort, Bernadette asked hesitantly, "Sooo, what's this mist of yours do anyway? It hasn't killed everybody, has it? I don't see a thing..."

Alis holds up a hand to stay Sasha even as Mariezza places her own hand on Bernadette's shoulder. "My 'father' gave it to me," she says, looking rather chagrinned, "Commodore Gaeros..."

Bernadette looks alarmed and puts an arm in front of her sister shrieking, "YOU CAN'T HAVE IT! IT'S HERS RIGHT AND LEGAL!"

"P– poison?" Bernadette stammered.

Mariezza looked at her sister and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, other than that raucous noise in the watchman's barracks a couple hours ago and the golem going crazy, it has been pretty quiet, don't you think Bernie?"

Bernadette looked entirely unhappy about the news. "Look, all I know is that I got off work, tried to get to bed and then a lot of hollering happened. Figured I'd just go use the loo, but everything got kind of fuzzy after that until Mar' come and got me."

Bernadette gasps and stammers, "Wha– why– you– Mariezza is my sister!"

The second woman shakes her head. "Bernie and I cook, but we get off after we finish helping with breakfast. Except for the boys who man the gate, soldiers and guests don't really come to this level."

"Yeah, unless that golem is on the fritz." Bernadette interjects. Looking sullen, she continues, "Look ma'am, if you're trying to find the Master Chief, she's up on the 6th floor in the... north-east room."

The half-elf nods, "If you take the stairs up from the kitchen, it's three stories up, down the hall, and Malinda's door the one to the left of the mural, you can't miss it."

After a moment, she adds, "If you could not mention this, it would be mighty big of you. That woman doesn't need anything else to complain about."

"Ok, ok!" You see Bernadette's bed shake as another head appears from under the sheets. It is a young, non-unattractive, half-elven woman with shoulder-length dirty-blonde hair and a passing resemblance to Bernadette. "You happy now Miss High and Mighty? What, the Commodore doesn't have enough work for you without harassing us when we're off-shi–"

Upon seeing Lureene's face and wings however, the younger woman tilts her head to one side in confusion. "Wait, you're not Malinda, who are you?"

Bernadette nodded nervously, "Yes ma'am, just me."

Bernadette paled at the sight of the not entirely human woman who had accosted her. Anxiously, she looked to the tall soldier standing near her, bow in hand, but judging by his silence, the winged-woman was in charge, not him. "I– I don't know what you mean, ma'am. I'd just nodded off when all the ruckus woke me up and I went to use the loo. Been trying to fall asleep since, but that golem sounds like it's on the fritz."