Petals heart breaks seeing Catina run off the stage, and without thinking takes after her, right on the stage itself. Stopped short by bark of the short man with something growing on his lip NEXT! followed by a deragatory statement about the one who just left. Petals temper flares LISTEN YOU...! red faced and angry she still manages to bite back calling him a runt That girl has more talent in her blood than most anyone you'd ever see on this so called stage of yours! You will give her another chance or SO HELP ME! she just then realizes her hammer is in her hand.
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Once she calms down or gets yelled down. She goes through some of Tybain Obeisan's lines she managed to memorize, summons dancing lights to battle with sword and hammer, and sings out part of the current favorite around the opera houses. All with the angry disdain of someone whose friend was insulted, which might very well be taken for actor arrogance.
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Faustinia wakes, refreshed even after the late night rehearsing, and asks one of the Eyes to deliver a message to her home which explains her overnight absence. She’s happy to see that Arael has calmed down from his agitation last night, but doesn’t comment on it for fear of bringing that worry into his mind again. ”Agreed, Arael,” she responds to his plan. ”This plan calls for more discretion. Or perhaps it’s better to say a different kind of discretion. We want to draw a very specific kind of attention, and the further the Eyes of Westcrown are associated from our eventual plans of high profile burglary the better. Ready everyone?” she asks as she dons her cloak in preparation to head to the Limehouse Theater.
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Faustinia has always enjoyed walking the streets of Westcrown. Despite its (relatively) recent downturn, the streets and buildings echo a rich history of Chelish excellence, even if it is now marred by Thrune’s takeover. Usually a solitary activity for the noblewoman, it feels strange to take such a walk the Irises, especially given their obvious eclectic composition of race, wealth, and status.
Faustinia nods in confirmation of what Catina says about the Order of the Rack. ”Not only that,” she adds, ”but that’s where the first Hellknights were born. They burned down Taranik House before rebuilding it as their headquarters. Hard to believe that was only a century and a half ago, more or less, considering the Hellknights’ importance now.”
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Once their group passes the half-elf girl crying as she exits the theater, Faustinia knows they’ve arrived at the right place. ”The director is a contemptible powder keg of a man. Not only that, but he’s got the wit to have a cutting tongue with his insults. I even heard the man married a princess once, before it all fell apart. Let’s hope his volatility is as distracting to himself as to his performers.”
Once inside, and after the Irises have expressed interest in auditioning for The Six Trials of Lazarod, Faustinia follows the man’s instructions to take the stage and make a proper introduction. Faustinia winces at Catina’s introduction, painfully enduring her obvious stage fright before the girl rushes away. Faustinia quickly follows, drawing on her experience talking to easily angered blowhards at various high class parties in her youth. ”Apologies for my young friend,” she begins, projecting her voice confidently, ”like Larazod, she is a devout creature whose actions speak louder than her words. Allow me to introduce myself as well: I am Lady Faustinia Xerysis. If we may be so bold as to declare our preferences for parts now, I have the magical skill to play Dentris Malagrada. You will find that I, as well as my companions, make up for what we lack in proper training in the art of acting by our skill at arms. We’ve survived treks through Westcrown’s sewer underbelly, fought thieves and bandits, and would be more than a match for the violent trials your production would have us undertake. Although, not so much a match that we wouldn’t prove entertaining to your attendees. What shall we perform for you?” she asks, ready to recite whatever lines that Nonon requires and casting a few entertaining effects with a quick casting of prestidigitation.
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Baolus is taken aback by the contents of the play, imagining how the director would try to recreate some of the trials. In the end, he concluded that, even if apparently deadly, it should be 'doable'. "The only good angle about this play is that, differently than Haanderthan, Nonon would only gain if we are able to survive, so the trials can't be unbeatable... and, if it is like this, I can't imagine a more fitting group."
As Catina starts to think about roles, Baolus needs to agree with her. "I agree that you'd make a really fitting Larazod... As far as I've noticed, there are two things really important about this character: his devotion and his heritage. You fit perfectly in both of them. If I could make some suggestions, I would imagine Lady Faustinia would clearly make a wonderful performance as Dentris, and perhaps Petals could play Tybain... if he is such a comic relief, I can imagine no one else capable of this role. For me, I can only imagine myself in Drovalid's skin, since for obvious reasons I lack the charm of Ilsandra."
When Petals also agrees with Catina playing Lazarod, Baolus starts to think about a male Ilsandra and, for a fraction of a second he thinks about Arael, which almost causes him to drown while drinking his tea. Thankfully, Petals gives a far more fitting suggestion. "Agreed once more... Janiven could be a quite fitting Ilsandra. With all due respect of course!" Baolus quickly adds before blushing a bit, which is quite significant taking in consideration how difficult is for a blushing mwangi to be noticed.
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At the table, Baolus doesn't seem different at all from any other day. Used to be awaken in the middle of the night, the rundottari was able to sleep almost immediately after they finished their studies and, since Nonon was expecting those able to survive, and no preparation of his part would make him look more 'theatrical', he made nothing special at all. Sitting close to Mathalen, Baolus greeted her. "Good morning miss Mathalen... I don't believe I we have talked with each other before, considering I'm a 'new addition' to the team and most of the times I've been here in the temple you were praying." In truth, Baolus wasn't aware that Mathalen was actually meditating, for he knew not the difference between the two.
When Catina mentions the price of her weapon, Baolus tries to comfort her and ease her mind of it. "You might rest assured that it did not cost more because it is beautiful... it is beautiful because it cost more." Realizing he wasn't really clear, he tried to explain. "When a master craftsman crafts a truly balanced and perfect weapon, they are used to embellish it, so their work is quickly discovered. Of course there are those who try to fool the buyer but I'm sure Ermolos wouldn't fall to such scheme."
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Having walked the streets for countless times, Baolus doesn't really pays attention to the buildings, focusing instead on the people walking by. Always the dottari, he keeps his eyes opens for any suspicious fellow trying to get away with a petty crime. When Catina and Lady Faustinia reveal what they know about Taranik House, Baolus raises an eyebrow. "Good to know... thanks for sharing this, and I wonder how you know that... nevertheless, I'm glad that you whispered it."
Never knowing when a Hellknight would work on your favor or against you, Baolus decided to keep a wide distance from them.
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Being the last one to present himself, Baolus was strangely at ease, specially after Lady Faustinia and Petals spoke in Catina's favor. With confidence, Baolus step in the stage. "Very well, my name is Baolus Yeralzary. If you are half the man I've heard about, you already noticed I'm no actor. I'm a fighter." To evidence this, he points to his weapons, his armor, and his physique. "If you were intending to direct any other play, I would not be here... but since you are looking for those capable of enduring the whole play, here I am. I'm not the devout Lazarod, the smart Dentris, the comic Tybain, and obviously not the seductive Ilsandra... but I'm sure that you won't find a better Drovalid."
Imagining he would soon regret his next words, Baolus breathed deeply before continuing. "Whatever you planned for us, I'm here to endure. I'm here to make sure, no matter what, your play reaches the unprecedented ending." His expression was one of certainty, not much different from Drovalid's own certainty on Lazarod's truthfulness.
The director raises an eyebrow when Catina mentions her surname, then he smirks and shakes his head when the tiefling girl proves unable to provide a good introduction of herself. “Unwonted! A horned damsel who claims to share the noble surname of one of the best actors in our whole history! I abhor this kind of deceits!” Robahl seems about to lose his nerve when Catina puts a hand in front of her mouth and hurries off the stage.”Where do you think you are going?! Inept, inefficient, incapable, incompetent, inadequate, insufferable… there aren’t enough ‘in’ words to describe your mediocrity!” The man seems about to stand up and yell one more of his archaic insults at the tiefling when Petals suddenly stands in defense of her friend. Robahl haughtily raises a skeptical eyebrow and gives the elf an unfathomable look.
Then his disdainful smirk turns into a thoughtful expression. “Excellent! Wonderful! Astonishing! Where have you been until now? That passion, that determination! Superb!”
As Petals starts going through Tybain’s lines, Robahl abruptly stops her. “Now please, delicate flower, do not ruin everything with this…mockery! You’re in. Now, NEXT!”
It’s Lady Faustinia’s turn. This time, Robahl stays in silence for the whole introduction, nodding every now and then and generally trying to restrain himself to a more refined behavior. As soon as the noble woman ends her introduction, the director gives her a quick applause. “This is what I call class. Thank you, madame. Now, NEXT!”
Baolus steps onto the stage. As soon as he introduces himself as a fighter, and not an actor, Robahl nods excessively. “Of course you are not!” Eventually, though, Baolus’ no-nonsense introduction proves to be efficient enough, at least for Robahl. “Decent”, he simply comments before standing up.
“Now, if you lot of improvised thespians would be so kind as to follow me…Yes, you as well, horned damsel”
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Robahl leads you inside the Limehouse Theater, in the Auditorium. “Let’s go and meet the rest of the cast and crew.”
The Limehouse auditorium seats about 60, and the stage is relatively compact at 20 feet wide and 10 feet deep—Robahl notes that, as a result, you won’t be performing the more “complex” parts of The Six Trials of Larazod during rehearsal, but since those portions are traditionally “improvised” (by which he means unscripted combat and torture), that shouldn’t be a problem.
The first other member of the cast you meet is Visbaronetess Delour Aulamaxa. The Visbaronetess’ eyes show the passage of years that her alabaster skin and traditionally thick makeup conceal. A tremendous woman, both in size and personality, Delour Aulamaxa has long been one of Westcrown’s most beloved divas. Delour typically wears extravagant clothing and jewelry, and her costumes during a performance are often less bombastic and outlandish than her tremendous day-today wardrobe.
“Visbaronetess Delour Aulamaxa”, says the imposing woman, offering you her hand to kiss. “My talent is matched only by my beauty—and possibly my temper”.
A man’s voice, rich and high pitched, answers to the Visbaronettess’ introduction. “Thesing Ulbero Ulvauno”, the man says with a charming smile, “My talent is unmatched, even by my beauty”. The actor gives a challenging look at the Visbaronettess and performs an elegant bow. For Lady Faustinia and Catina, Thesing is an old acquaintance. Thesing Umbero Ulvauno is a handsome fellow whose extravagant garb and quick charm cannot long hide the color of his character. His chiseled good looks are brutal rather than delicate, and his sense of humor tends toward the cruel and dark.
“But we already had the pleasure, didn’t we?”, says with a mocking smile Thesing, turning to Faustinia and Catina. “I’m surprise to see such crude thugs as you are here in such a refined place. Is this a joke, director? Oh, I’m afraid not. And tell me, where are those friends of yours, the shorty and the sodomite?”
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Pleased with her own reception, Faustinia is equally relieved to see the others meet Robahl Nonon’s acceptance with ease after Catina’s embarrassment. As Robahl leads the Irises inside the theater, Faustinia sidles up to Catina and lightly places a comforting hand on her shoulder. When the director’s attention is occupied as they walk, she whispers in the young tiefling’s ear, careful to avoid leaning in against her horns. ”Don’t let the man’s harsh bloviating get to you,” she starts, as if recovering from the director’s verbal abuse were the easiest thing in the world. ”We’ll only need to endure this nonsense for a little while. And besides, we’re not here to be professional actors, but to survive this pompous fool’s blood sport. And honestly, going up against a sewer goblin seems more appealing than a long term career under this man.”
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Faustinia greets the made-up lady with a polite bow, taking her hand to briefly kiss. ”A pleasure to meet you, Visbaronetess Aulamaxa.I am Lady Faustinia Xerysis. I must admit, I haven’t been out to the theater much in recent years, but I had the honor of seeing some of your performances nearer to the start of your career. They were excellent, of course, and I imagine that your performances have only grown more exquisite. I look forward to working with you,” Faustinia admits, her flattery only slightly exaggerated. Her tone conveys both the desire to soothe the diva’s admitted temper and a genuine respect for the woman’s art.
Faustinia then turns her attention to Thesing. She returns his bow and answers him with a cocked brow, with a tone distinctly less flattering than the last time they met, now that she’s defending herself rather than Gorvio’s pestered uncle. ”Ah, Thesing, the rising star. A pleasure to see you again,” she lies. ”You’ve got a charming way with words, as ever. The director is lucky to have secured such an erudite actor! What tribulations did he have to countenance in order to enlist your artful tongue?” she says, delivering the ostensible compliment with a bitter sharpness to it, matching Thesing’s attempts to use sophisticated words with her own rich vocabulary. ”I’m afraid our friends have passed away. But such is the life of professional adventurers, and they are gravely missed,” she replies, trying to play up the Irises’ roles as survivors for the deadly performance ahead of them as well as to try to induce at least a little guilt in the proud man.
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Taking the opportunity to listen and study the surroundings of the Limehouse, Baolus remains silent as the director shows them the place. He is quite pleased that Lady Faustinia had moved to give Catina a couple kind words. He always imagined himself terrible at such things. Too blunt.
"Ma'am, it is my pleasure." Baolus simply says while bowing to kiss her hand. He always had little patience for all the extravagant titles and actively refused himself to try to learn them. In his mind, 'madam' and 'milady' was enough. "I'm Baolus Yeralzary, at your service." Not an opera enthusiast, Baolus had no idea about Visbaronetess's prestige or talent.
Extending his hand to Thesing, Baolus made sure to squeeze the man's fingers with his grip... not enough to hurt him, but enough to remove, at least for a moment, that presumptuous man's smile from his face. "Continuing with this trend... my talent is short, much like my patience."
After mere seconds, Baolus had already decided that if in need for a patsy to unleash his contained anger, Thesing would be a quite fitting punching bag.
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Taken aback by the sudden praise in the face of her temper, she almost doesn't notice that look in the director's eyes. She's weathered it enough in her life, though most don't even bother to try to mask it. While she was used to it, it does NOT mean she welcomed it. It made her skin crawl. But she couldn't exactly upend a drink on his head to cool his lust. They needed this, so she bit back her disgust and finished the audition.
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After Faustinia's words, she squeezed Catina's arm Thank you. she says honestly. Without my temper dragging me up there, I might have wet myself with my nerves being what they were. Singing is so much easier than... that. she waves back at the stage they just left.
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Oh my dear mother Petals eyes widened, her breath quick and sharp in surprise, at seeing ALL that was the Visbaronetess. She hoped beyond hope the woman's eyes had stayed on Lady Faustinia while she composed herself quickly. Actresses aren't supposed to look like that... are they? She rarely went to any plays in truth and had no real comparison.
Now the other one, her gaze lingered on. That is what she thought of from the theater. Handsome, charming, well dressed, and with an obvious dark side. Petals accepted the combination was never ever a good thing to covet, but she also accepted it being a particular weakness of hers. The lapse in judgement throughout her years had led to pain and suffering time and again.
Faustinia's exchange with the dressed up devil brought her wandering thoughts up short, thankfully. He had history with her friends, and it did not sound good. Knowing her own judgement to be lacking in this regard, she decided trusting her friend's judgement was a much better idea. No dilly or dally with wicked handsome actors. she swore to herself, then added Or diminutive directors with a ferret on their lips.
The icy silence from the Visbaronetess made the young elf realize it her time for her own introduction. Lowering her eyes and curtsying deeply in her skirts, the flustered blonde said with as much grace as she could muster My lady, I am Petals, nothing more. It is an honor to meet you.
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Catina looks deathly pale when Faustinia and Petals finds her. She has a rather blank look in her eyes, and is easily guided by the others. Faustinia's attempt to cheer her up don't immediately work. "You don't understand. It's not just him. I... I..." I've wanted this so bad. And I'm useless at it! Petals' addition earns a weak smile from Catina, who seems to be regaining some colour on her cheek. "I'm proud that you all did so well. And thank you for speaking out. I'm just glad that I didn't tank the think for all of us..."
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Encountering Delous Aulamaxa is enough to truly shock Catina back into the present. She hesitates for a moment in accepting the woman's hand (not sure whether the visbaronetess would be offended by her nature), but if present the accepts it for a kiss. "Visbaronetess, it is my pleasure. I... I really look forward to working with you." She was most definitely not looking forward to ever stepping on stage again, but working with an actice of her stature would be a pleasure, she hoped.
When the pompous fool Ulvuano raises his voice, Catina can already feel herself grinding her teeth, and she looks sideways at Faustinia. She gives him a silent stare and would have been glad to leave it at that. Except for his callous remarks about Sev and Lorenzo. "They're no such thing!" she explodes. "They were better people than you'd ever be!" She huffs "Crude thugs? A joke? We'll see about that! Unconceivable," she taunts, pretty sure that the man won't even realize that the joke is on him.
Before Thesing can answer to Catina and Faustinia, another member of the cast chimes in. A petite beauty, the woman offers you a kind smile and bows elaborately. “Calseinica Nymmis. I’m going to play the part of the beautiful Ilsandra.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you!”, says the starlet with another smile. “Do you already know who’s going to play the part of Lazarod?”
At this point in the conversation, the director chimes in with a brusque voice. “Not yet, but we’re going to determine it very soon. Come on, now follow me”. Robahl urges you to leave. Thesing looks at you with a mischievous grin, while Calseinica blinks and whispers. “Good luck!” The Visbaronettes simply ignores you.
As you follow the director, you stumble across a stocky hunchbacked man with stringy white hair. “He’s Millech”, introduces him Robahl Nonon, “Our man in charge of the special effects and backstage work. Also a gifted illusionist, among the other things.”, explains the director. Millech mumbles an agreement.
Catina is glad to be away from Thesing, and secretly happy that she doesn't have to face the consequences of her outburst. She colours and looks a bit guilty, knowing that she shouldn't let herself be goaded like that. "My please, miss," she offers the woman. "I am sure you will do the part proud." She colours again at the mention of the role of Larazod, from embarrassment this time at having failed so badly to audition for that role. Maybe her cheeks also heat up slightly at seeing who she'd be facing in the role of Ilsandra, but such thoughts are beside the point now.
Catina gives a short but polite bow to Calseinica and quickly follows after the director. She tries not to let herself be taken aback by Millech's hunched appearance. "Hello," she greets simply. "Will you be responsible for creating the challenges that we will have to face during the play?"
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Calseinica Nymmis? Petals thinks maybe she overheard the name before, but can't remember any details. She curtsies to the woman and greets her as well. But has little time to do anything else before they were all ushered to meet Millech. His appearance doesn't phase her, after seeing all manor of deformities and survived mutilations in the slums. She gives the man a bright smile and a greeting, more eager to see what he produces then their fellow actors.
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Faustinia returns the young actor's bow and greets her with a smile. "Calseinica Nymmis! I'm afraid I've been too busy this year to see any of your shows, but I hear that your rise has been meteoric." More quietly, with a conspiratorial tone she leans in and adds, "I do hope it's not awkward for you to be performing alongside the Visbaronetess, after you took over as the Witch of Roses when she had that nasty accident. I'm sure you're both fabulous actors." Pulling back, she says her farewell at a normal volume, adding, "A pleasure to meet you as well," before the director corrals them away.
When introduced to Millech, Faustinia gives the man a fleeting nod. She doesn't seem to react to his appearance other than to quickly acknowledge he exists before turning her attention back to the director. For her it's a very common way of reacting to those who are obviously laborers, commoners, and servants, but she does a double take when Robahl mentions that Millech is a skilled illusionist. "Ah, how interesting," she says, now genuinely curious. "It can be a quite interesting and clever type of magic. Have you been in the business very long?" she probes, trying to draw some commentary on magical knowledge from the man.
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"Of course you are." Baolus answers, without thinking, to Calseinica as she reveals her role in the party. Trying to recover from his lack of manners, and hoping she was not actually paying attention to his words, Baolus coughs while bowing to her. "I'm pleased to meet you, miss Nymmis, very pleased."
Once the director had urged them to follow him, Baolus was quite happy to leave the awkward presentation behind. Now knowing who would be playing Ilsandra, Baolus could not help himself but to imagine himself playing Lazarod. He shook his head to eliminate such thoughts. This is not the reason I'm here for...
When introduced to Millech, Baolus offers his hand to the man. "Nice to meet you, mister Millech." As soon as he hears about Millech's talent for illusions, Baolus registers the old hunchback as a potential trouble... during his training years, he remembers about Lonel, the Illusionist, a dangerous conman the dottari were after... it took them about five years to finally catch him. Since them, at least for him, illusion was a synonymous for trouble.
Millech seems surprised by the amount of attentions he’s receiving and looks at both Catina and Lady Faustinia with a perplexed expression, his stubby fingers scratching his bald head. “I…I, yesh, I’ll be reshponshible for the…Dah!” Millech suddenly bursts in a temper tantrum, but the object of his anger is clearly not Catina. “Der’sh only one thing I’m not in charge of…dat ish, the dangeroush devishes and beashtsh you’re gonna fashe…” Millech’s tone is gloomy, as though something terrible was going to happen and he was the only one who could see it coming.
“ These elements were paid for and provided by Mayor Arvanxi himself”, offhandedly explains Robahl, making clear with his tone that he wishes to cut the discussion. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to talk to Millech later. Follow me now”. Robahl does not give Millech even the chance to answer to Faustinia’s interesting remark.
Millech looks at you as you leave. Those paying attention can hear him mumbling something like: “Die, dey’re all going to die…I won’t be able to shee de beashtsh until the premiere…Nothing I can posshibly do dish time…”
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Once you’ve reached the auditorium, Robahl makes you all step onto the stage, while he seats on a chair. “Very well. I need to fill four roles―I need a Lazarod, a Dentris, a Drovalid and a Tybain. Mr. Ulvauno is going to play Montigny Haanderthan, Mrs. Aulamaxa is the chorus and narrator for the play, and Mrs. Nymmis will be our beautiful Ilsandra. Now, let’s see what you will be”. The director grins, almost anticipating the pleasure of berating your failures.
“I need my Lazarod to be a good actor. But since all I got is you, I’ll settle for the best among you, which is far from good anyway. Now, show me what you can do. One at a time, read Larazod’s first line from the play, the soliloquy that begins “Larazod knows no lies, great magistrate…”
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A little brown mouse of girl, Tessa was a fellow orphan so long ago, filled with unattainable dreams of being an actress. When not prattling on and on about this songbird or that leading man, she'd list all the ways she was going to be The Great Actress. Petals listened, happy to be included if for no other reason that no one else would.
One thing Tessa said was use your life to feel what the character would feel. Petals thought out it, about being before a group of people judging you. Like when she was asked to leave the temple. The hurt she felt, combined with anger at what she saw was their cowardice, poured into her voice.
Larazod knows no lies, great magistrate, and no slanderer’s tongue caresses my dignity. she shouted, gesturing widely, moving as she talked about the witnesses and the tortures. She faltered on some of the words, and had to pause destroying more than a little of the effect.
I carry no assassin’s blade, nor breath-stealing spell to rob your mortality. To end you I need only know you... as she moves into threatening the magistrate, she imagines the dwarf of a director as the magistrate just after a suggestion of a way she could get the part. Her voice grew stronger, more sure, and each threat felt very real.
At least she thought it did. Self delusion is an important trait for acting, right?
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Following Robahl as the director seeks to quickly terminate the conversation with Millech, Faustinia steps forward onto the auditorium stage once it's her turn to audition. She hadn't expected that the director would ask them all to audition for Larazod, but his reasoning made sense. Despite his naked cruelty Robahl still clearly wants to produce a quality product, and starting with the best lead they could manage would benefit all of their goals to impress the mayor.
Faustinia clears her throat and begins, imagining herself trading verbal jabs with Thesing. ”Larazod knows no lies, great magistrate, and no slanderer’s tongue caresses my dignity,” she begins, naturally adopting an overly polite tone, undercut with bitter sarcasm at such politesse in the face of one who deserves little respect. As she continues, she leans more heavily into that mixed tone, accentuating the correct pronunciation of longer words and carefully navigating the artistic grammar of the soliloquy.
Unfortunately, the effect is rather awkward. By focusing so heavily on her false politesse and the text, she comes off as a pompous scholar rather than a common, dignified, and faithful Larazod. Her insults are overblown and feel less like proper acting than someone who sounds like they're trying desperately to act. She focuses too hard on remembering every word perfectly, and neglects to move around the space or use her body, except in brief moments where she makes isolated, grand, and awkward gestures. The overall effect is not the worst acting in the world, but it is decidedly amateurish.
Worst of all, Faustinia gives a brief bow at the end of the short speech and smirks in a way that says she thinks she's done very well.
Back in the temple, they had discussed which each one of them would like to play, so, in his mind, the decision was already taken. The dottari had no intention of taking Lazarod's role... well, almost no intention, taking a quick look at Nymmis once more. He caught himself imagining if he should botch the acting...
Getting to his place, and worried that Catina could succumb once more to her stage fear, Baolus idea was to use his most likely terrible performance to boost Catina's by comparison. So he started.
"Larazod knows no lies, great magistrate, and no slanderer's tongue caresses my dignity. The accusations you speak are as true as Asmodeus's sword..." There was no passion in his voice, even if he made sure not to forget any word... after all, he intended to give the impression that he wasn't fitting for that role, not for every other else. Used to give reports, after a line or two it was just that the director saw: Baolus standing still with both hands on his back, and giving a report, definitely not acting.
To give it a little bit of emotion, Baolus start to say the words as if he was angry, and seen Ulvauno's smirk of disdain was the perfect fuel for this. In the end, Baolus imagined that, even if he did not try to actively botch his audition for Lazarod, the results would not be much more different...
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The encounter with Millech leaves Catina shaken. The dangers of the trails, that have seemed so far off when Janiven talked about them, and even when she read about them, became suddenly more real. Her previous introduction had already left her drained, and the thought of having to go on stage drains the colour from her face again.
She waits as long as she can, trying to pay attention to Petals' audition, but largely blanking out when Faustinia and Baolus take the stage. Instead she prays to Shelyn, who had taken her in when no one else would, in a sense. In the past two weeks, she had felt what she could do, with the power given her. And she decides that she won't give up, now that she has the opportunity to pay homage. To the arts, to Shelyn, and to her father. She hears Faustinia recite Larazod's lines, and Baolus, and tries to figure out where she can find courage to get back up on stage and present a convincing Larazod.
It is finally her turn, and Catina stand up with leaden legs, swaying slightly as she takes the stage. Picturing Ulvauno as Haanderthan brings a bit of colour to her cheeks, anger at his insult of her two dead companions. Her thoughts latch onto Lorenzo, and she suddenly realizes she can draw courage from his strength, even if he's no longer among them. She takes a deep breath in, and smiles a rueful smile as she remembers the courageous paladin, thoroughly convicted of his choices. "Larazod know no lies," she speaks, her voice clear and strong despite her frail appearance and shaking hands. "Great magistrate," she continues, she slightest anger and scorn in her voice, "no slanderer's tongue mars my dignity." She knows she's taking some liberty with the lines, but it'll have to do. These words sound right. "These allegations you speak as a true as Asmodeus's wicked sword. They cleave... clean through."
"Let the witnesses suffer no more lash," she continues, making it clear that she would endure whatever torture would be done. "To burn their mortal coils with pokers, and to steal their eyes, is but a waste of energy, better spent in Asmodeus's unholy service." She skips a bit, eager to join to the conclusion. "I seek not your death," she says with severity and compassion, "but the secrets you hold in your feeble heart deserve such a demise."
She finally breaths out, and stands uncertain on stage, silently thanking Lorenzo for the example he's set in his life.
Robahl shakes his head at Petals performance. "Mediocre! CUMBERWORLD! Next!"
When Faustinia and Baolus make their attempts, Robahl puts his hands on his face and shouts out loud. "I've got better things to do than listen to these bespawlers! Dalcops, only dalcops! What have I done wrong to deserve these...nincompoops?!"
Catina performance at least does not get an insult as an answers. Robahl restrains himself to shrugh and look at you with a disdainful expression, in this case.
"Let's go on now. Now we know you don't have the slightest gift for acting, at least. I can resign myself. Now we're casting Dentris. Dentris is a sharp-tongued wizard who has a knack for biting insults and a quick wit, and who acts almost as a father figure to Larazod. To cast Dentris, you shall insult and berate me, and do so as wittily and cruelly as possible."
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Another role I don't want, Petals thought. Already she was worn out. Trying to be Larazod, she really did try, only to be called Mediocre, and something else she really didn't understand. She WASN'T an actor. She'd happily hit something, but no instead she needed to Act some more. Leaning against the wall with crossed arms, she listened to his instructions...
To insult him!
That would be lovely. she smiled, imagining tearing into him about his height, that so called mustache, his less than proportional... um... well, all sorts of truly horrible things. And all probably true.
But that wouldn't work, she decided. If he truly was the insufferable man he was acting like, every obvious flaw of his had been raked over the coals countless times. By his peers. Who were actors, directors, writers, so on. People who the spoken word was their very weapons in life. His defenses against all things as such would be impregnable.
To insult someone well, you had to truly be able to hurt them. Otherwise, they'd laugh it off, turning you into the weak one.
She didn't have a clue. Sighing,knowing she was going to be called names Again, she pushed off the wall, uncrossing her arms and went up to the little man. She leaned down, and with all the contempt she could muster through the weary resignation of expected failure, she whispered in his ear, No one will remember your name.
In his mind, insults were delicate things. If the one insulting isn't aware about his target's life and preferences, an insult could be nothing but meaningless words... on the other hand, an innocent insult could turn into something no one was expecting. Nonon's insults had fallen in the first category. If he was someone who dreamt to be on a stage, his worlds would definitely be more than harmful but, in his case, a veteran dottari who did not give a crap about this whole kind of art, and who were just playing in a major plan, Nonon's insults were less than nothing.
Baolus himself wasn't a man inclined to insult mainly for two reasons: first, he generally prefers to remain quiet, or just speak a couple words, in the presence of those he doesn't like or doesn't trust; second, he did not see the point of harming the others with words. Nevertheless, it doesn't mean he was bad at it. He came to learn that an insult is equal parts the meaning of the words, and the intent behind them... he was never really creative on the first part, but quite good on the second.
When it was his turn, he took his place and eyed the director. With a condescending tone, he started. "You can indeed resign yourself, Master Nonon, but not because of the action of the others... you are the insufferable failure here. You have probably tried more than once to direct anything meaningful, but was a disappointment at best, or a utter failure at worst... Your years are dwindling and all the hope you had for a life of fame and prestige are slipping through your fingers, and everytime you look at a mirror, you see nothing but a bald imp."
"You look at us with scorn, by you actually see hope, for we are your last chance. You choose a long scorned play to be your salvation, but already knowing you'd failure once more, like many times before, you decided not for actors, but for adventures, in the slim hope that, once you fail again, you'd at least present a bloodsport... a meaningful insult, Mr. Nonon, is the one which is closer to the truth, the truth that you actually know, even if you try to hide from everyone else... that you are a failure." Baolus meant every word, but since he was on stage, there was no way fro Nonon to know that. With a smile on his face, be bowed slightly before leaving the stage.
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Faustinia's smirk quickly droops into a frown, and she feels her gut turn over. She scowls as she removes herself from the stage, surprised by the lump rising in her throat at Robahl's mockery. She wasn't a professional by any means, but she hadn't expected to be so thoroughly and immediately dismissed. Somehow the director's ridiculous posturing and his obscure non-vulgar insults made the whole situation far worse.
So it is a welcome reprieve that the next task is to insult the director. She wastes no time laying into him when it's her turn. "You ask for a sharp wit, and yet present us with a dull target to strike; how shall I cut into the dense thickness of your torpid thoughts? How could I injure with my jabs the muddy sinkhole of your intellect? You ask for cruelty, but you insult us in presenting us with your obvious wealth of defects. Shall I call you an oafish shrimp to mock your height? Surely you've slaughtered some diseased vermin to purposefully adorn your naked lip and scalp with its mangy hide? You've made the game too easy, Nonon, and you give no challenge in picking you apart, and thus you mock us even as we mock you. Face it, my good director: you're an unimaginative hack who presents blood sport and petty insults and calls it high art. If history remembers you, it will not be because of your artistic skill, but because that mustache of yours tickled Mayor Arvanxi's behind as you kissed it."
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Catina stews im her seat as Petals' and Baolus give their own interpretation of the director's instruction. She's quite confused by Robahl's complete lack of response to her audition. Does that mean that he liked it? Or was it too bad to even comment on?
She worries about the next assignment. It seems like quite a conundrum. Asking to be insulted meant that Catina would have to think of some good lines. But not too good, of course, because she didn't want him to actually be insulted, and hold that against her.
When Faustinia takes the stage, Catina is awesruck by the noblewoman's performance. She hadn't had a second of doubt, of course, that Faustinia would have been perfect for this role. When it's her turn, Catina again takes the stage, slowly, still unsure what to say. However, the fact that Faustinia had already shown to be perfect for this part, takes some of the pressure off Catina. "My dear director," she starts, thinking a nice approach would probably fit her best. "It pains me to see you here like this. Surely you must have had grand dreams once, of making an actual name for yourself, to walk among the high and mighty, to look up to them despite your stature. However, as promising the cast of actors you've assembled, it is painfully obvious that you are desperate. And lacking in creativity as well, if the best you can come up with is a recreation of so vulgar a play as the Trials. You must know it as well, because who else but the powerless would stoop so low as to continually rely on verbal abuse." That last wasn't something she had meant to say, but she had spent long enough being called names, and the director's penchant for shouting as his actors had been getting on her nerves. She's left standing on stage for a moment, and realizes that she's lost the momentum and needs to finish somehow. She's flapping her mouth for a few seconds, and then ends with "Pah!" Still a bit angry, she immediately strides off the stage.
This time, the director listens to your "performances" without uttering a single word. Anyway, you notice that his face does not give up any hint of taking offense at your insults, as though he didn't deem you good enough not even to insult him, or perhaps simply because he operates under the assumption that you're doing as you were asked, and actually inventing insults. Regardless, Robahl waits for the last of you to end his series of insults and then clears his throat. “Never enter a battle of wits unarmed”, he simply comments, with an irritating smirk.
"Let's move on. Now we need to cast Tybain. He's the comic relief of the play, a bumbling paladin whose devotion to Aroden is even more comical in this age. Traditionally, Tybain is the character who dies first in the play, but the longer he can survive, often the better the play is received. Thus, the actor portraying Tybain must be able to deliver his performance while being constantly on the defensive." Robahl takes a sip from his glass of wine and ensues.
"For this casting challenge, I'll have each of you stand on stage one at a time. The others shall join me in the crowd. As for the one on stage, he must recite Tybain’s first line of the play, the one that starts “Hurl his arrogance…” while dodging rocks and rotten fruit hurled by us". With a grinning smile, Robahl points his index finger to two sack at his feet, one containing small rocks and the other a wide array of rotten fruit. "Let's begin!
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Petals has gone beyond irritated, climbing the stairs to the stage before there are any objections. She turns, still and glaring at her audience until they are "armed" then begins.
Hurl your arrogance and accusations, all you want, little man she purposely messes up the first line, staring at his beady eyes. She continues, Give him more than he can choke down... her voice carries with strength, speech turning to song as the twirling right then left becomes a dance. Mother, this could be fun. she decides, as the performance becomes a game. Her amusement finally overtaking the frustration in her voice.
Once it is over, she is smiling and a little out of breath, but there isn't a scratch or stain on her.
Jumping down she faces Robahl. You have your Tybain, sir. If you hurt any of my friends needlessly, I will not be happy.
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Faustinia raises a skeptical and displeased eyebrow at the director's method of choosing Tybain. "It couldn't have been just the life-threatening stones, could it? Had to throw in the rotten produce..." she grumbles as Petals takes the stage. She's as impressed as she is relieved that her friend is unharmed, and she takes the stage next with her staff in hand.
"Hurl his arrogance and accusations back at him--" Faustinia begins, before immediately ducking under a moldy peach, "--back at him, Larazod." To her own amazement and luck, Faustinia manages to avoid any serious harm. Her robe's long sleeves and skirt take hits, but never where her actual body is. Energized from a cathartic roasting of Robahl in the casting of Dentris, she makes a few impressive dodges that surprise even herself. Staff in hand, she manages to harmlessly deflect some of the fruits and stones. Once she finishes delivering the speech, she's utterly quiet for a beat, stunned by her own performance and silently thanking whatever controls the whims of chance. Still stained by a few stray bits of exploded overripe fruits, though, her expression quickly turns to disgust, and she starts to clean herself up with prestidigitation as she steps off the stage.
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Catina is reasonably happy with her last performance, and with the fact that Robahl didn't shout at them for their insults. The absurdity of his next 'task' has her chortling a quick laugh. Maybe I was wrong, and he does have some creativity. Or perhaps he's just used to his actors getting boo'd off the stage. Finding some mirth in the situation, Catina takes her place at the bags, tossing some pebbles and overripe grapes at the two women. Both of them seem to be able enough to dodge them, which alows Catina to see it as a harmless game.
When her turn comes up, the tiefling girl thinks that it's easier to be on stage, especially since she's already had some time throwing tomatoes. The fact that the situation is beyond silly also helps to ease the pressure. At least, that's what she tells herself, before she takes her place in the middle of the stage and reality begs to differ.
When she's about to start and already feels the first stone bruise her arm, it suddenly occurs to her that the game isn't really harmless. She takes her time to actually start Tybain's line, hoping to dodge the projectiles aimed at her, but that doesn't really help. Eventually, she starts, hurrying through the text. "Hurl his... his arrogance and accusations back at him Larazod <Ouch> He wants precious golden-yoked truth? Give him more than he can choke down for whether revealed by the brilliance of Aroden’s eye or the long red shadows cast by <Eek!>, and.. and.." She has trouble remembering the next part due to a stone hitting her leg, and skips to the end. "Let... Let him that judges false be judged by wraiths—smote by his own brand shall he fall."
When she's done, Catina hurries down the stage, nursing her bruises. When she thinks Robahl isn't looking, she puts a hand on her leg and briefly prays to Shelyn to heal herself.
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As the others move to the stage, Baolus takes his position besides the director and the other actors, and quickly starts to throw stones at his companions... however, he made sure to miss everyone of them. In his mind, the more he throws stones, the others would only have vegetables at their hands, which would be far less dangerous.
When it was his time, Baolus was not really sure about his success, mostly thanks to his armor. He thought about removing it, but since he was never a particularly fast man, he imagined the protection from his armor would more than compensate, since he would be less harmed.
When he was still starting to concentrate at the first line, Ulvuano, in a lucky throw, hits him an inche above his left eye, rupturing the skin and half-blinding him. "Hey, you..." he starts to protest and soon after there is a rotten tomato flying towards him, which he quickly dodges. "Fine... Hurl his arrogance and accusations back at him..." Baolus continues, fully aware that, half-blinded, his slim chances of success are now completely lost. Trying to only protect himself now, he assumes a defensive posture, trusting his armor.
He finishes Tybain's line with no serious wounds besides the first one on his forehead, but he is completely covered in rotten fruit. When he prepares himself to leave the stage, he slips over a particularly ripe avocado. "Lady Faustinia, if I may ask, could you help me with his mess?" He asks, barely containing his anger. Ulvuano and Nonon will learn a valuable lesson before this reaches an end...
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Petals is seething by the time her friends are done. She didn't throw a single thing during the "audition." Instead she kept her arms crossed tightly against her to keep for hitting that tiny troll of a man who directed the attacks. In her mind she reapeated We need him, we need him, please mother keep me from crushing him as Faustinia cleans Baolus, Petals moves up and lays her hand above the cut, whispering the arcane prayer of healing.
Nonon does not comment your performances as Tybain, perhaps thinking that the rocks and the rotten fruit did their job well enough in inflicting pain to the aspiring actors.
"Fine, now the last casting. I need a Drovalid. Drovalid, as the torturer who has a change of heart and joins Larazod’s side to protect him, is the toughest character in the play—he often ends up being the star combatant of the performance, and thus, the actor portraying him must be able to speak his lines while being on the offensive.” Robal squints at you. “For this casting challenge, you’ll mount the stage one at a time and deliver Drovalid’s first line, the one beginning “Magistrate Maleficarum…”) while at the same time striking a blow with a weapon at a flying monster. Let’s start!”
As the first Iris to attempt the challenge soon finds out, the “flying monster” is in fact a swinging sandbag filled with red sand inside a metal bucket that Millech swings down at the actors at some point during their line delivery.
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Catina sighs and gets back on stage again, wielding her glaive. Out of all the characters, Drovalid was perhaps least relatable to her. She focuses on hitting the bucket, causing her delivery of the lines to feel a little flat. The fact that she has no idea what a person like that would feel doesn't help. "Magistrate Maleficarum, I come before you a simple hand whose lash is guided by the greater glory of Asmodeus" She pauses a moment to swing, but she's still not used to the balance of her new weapon and she fails to hit the bucket. She tries to spin out of the way, but it's already to late. the bucket his her in the stomach. "Ow!" With a bruised ego and a bruised gut, she finishes her lines and slinks off the stage. May... May my scourge do him and this devoted tribunal proud. With your permission I shall begin our first trial. - Sorry, I'm still getting used to this weapon. I can do better. Really, I can..."
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Petals takes the stage, remembering a bar song about buckets full of beer. Rearing her hammer back, she starting singing the words of Drovalid's speech to the tune of the bar song. Magistrate Maleficarum, I come before you a simple hand...
Maybe concentrating on the song distracted her too much, or maybe she's just too frustrated with this entire thing. Her swing missed by barely an inch.
Sharp pain, disorientation, and a very unladylike curse follows. Petals ends up on her rump, face beat red, from both embarrassment and where the bucket had hit. She gets up slowly, no threats or insults, just quietly getting off the stage. Eyes lowered and wanting to hide.
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Faustinia takes the stage, nervous. “Magistrate Maleficarum,” she begins, keeping her eye out for the swinging weight from above. She delivers the lines slowly, taking her time to pause and look out for the swooping bucket. At nearly the end of the delivery, the sand bag flies down at her. She sticks out her staff to try to bat it away, but ends up catching the rope and altering the bucket's trajectory such that it slams into her head. She comically sails back, knocked off her feet, and stays on the ground for a little while before getting up and woozily making her way off stage.
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This should not be difficult... Baolus thought as he moved towards the stage, fully aware the, so far, the bucket had hammered against each of his companions. From the beginning, he decided that, at least, he would not let the bucket hit him like the others.
"Magistrate Maleficarum, I come before you a simple hand whose lash is guided..." Baolus begins, paying close attention to the lines and the bucket. To his surprise, he was so focused on these two aspects of the trial that he managed to forget to draw his weapon... when the bucket flew towards him, Baolus drew his weapon a couple seconds too late, causing his attack to goes wide completely.
However, as he promised himself, he also evaded the bucket. "For the Gods..." He starts, looking at Nonon a bit ashamed. "Damned bucket... well, that was terrible, but at least I'm still alive after the 'flying beast' attacked me..."
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Robahl observes your poor performances in silence, but from the disgusted sneer on his face it’s pretty clear that he’s not satisfied at all with your exhibitions. As soon as Baolus steps down the stage, the director unleashes his fury. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” His neck red from anger, Robahl looks fuming. “Congratulations! You’re the least talented nincompoop I have ever had the misfortune to meet. Being incapable of even hitting a bucket maneuvered by a hump! Oooh, this must be a joke! Please tell me it’s just a joke!” The director stands up abruptly and stats pacing back and forth nervously for a few seconds, his fists clenched in anger and frustration. All of a sudden he stops, stiff as a staff, and looks you in the eyes. “Go to hell!”
Right after his outburst of rage, the director leaves the auditorium. Millech, not far from you, shrugs and rolls his eyes while he sighs. You stay confused in the auditorium, asking yourselves what is going to happen next. The director was so furious that you can’t even exclude his could fire you and give up the play. Fortunately, this is not going to happen. At least not now.
The director come back and looks at you with bloodshot eyes full of disdain. He shakes in anger as he speaks with clenched fists. “Very well…Very, VERY, VERY WELL!” He starts shouting. “I ASKED FOR NON PROFESSIONALS AND THAT’S WHAT I GET! APPALLING ACTORS AND EVEN WORSE ADVENTURERS!” For a moment, the director looks like he’s going to grab Baolus violently and vent his frustration on him, but after a quick reconsideration, he decides that he shouldn’t risk that much. “Listen to me, you incompetent fools, unworthy even to put your feet on a stage…I…I…AAAARGGGHHHHH!!!!” Gesturing to bite at your heads, the director almost eats his own hat in his fit of rage. Robahl throws his hat away and kicks one of the benches. From the looks of it, he seems to have hurt him foot in the process.
The director goes silent, his small figure inflating and deflating as he tries to regain his composure. Fortunately, he has his backs turned on you, and you can’t see his face. After almost ten seconds, the director relaxes his fists and turns to you. He does not speak, but from the look on his face you immediately understand that the worst is over. “You!” he suddenly says, indicating Catina, “You will be our Lazarod. And you!” Now the director is pointing towards Faustinia. “You, milady, you will be our Dentris. The elf will be our Tybain, while the Shoanti will be our Drovalid”. The director sighs. “We’re doomed!”
Facepalming, Robahl shakes his head. Millech brings him back his hat with a spell. “Thanks Millech. I trust you know all of our hopes now lie in your wise hands and your clever mind. My friend, this time you’ll need to push your own abilities to their limits! Just look at this gang of fool nincomp…Alright, alright, alright, I’m fine, I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’m calm. I’m…calm, now”. Millech gives the director a toothless smile. “Rehearshalsh.” The hump simply says, causing the director to roll his eyes and facepalm once again. “Yes, where my head was? Listen, the performance for the mayor at the Nightshade Theater is scheduled to occur in 1 week, leaving you only 7 days to get to know their parts. The night before the performance, the group is scheduled to do a public dress rehearsal at the Limehouse, although this dress rehearsal will exclude the actual onstage combats and trials, instead being the shorter, “false” version of the play. It’s mostly just a chance to make sure everyone knows his lines and role, and to make sure you can handle performing before one of the rowdiest audiences in Westcrown. If you can pull off their roles at the Limehouse, something which I’m honestly very skeptical about, you should have no problem with the Nightshade. Now please, follow Millech and leave me alone with my pain…”
Millech gives you an awkward smile and starts humping towards the inner part of the theater. He leads you in a room where several scene costumes are held on wooden coat racks. The room is cast in a warm, deep orange light, and inside of it is a stout woman with a button nose, a wide smile and gnarled hands with stubby fingers. She’s very short for a human woman, and she can be easily mistaken for a female dwarf at a distance. She has golden braids and freckles all over her face, and differently from everyone else in the theater except for Calseinica and perhaps Millech himself, is the only kind-looking person. As soon as she introduces herself, you have the confirmation that she does not only looks kind, she actually is a kind woman. “Milena, dressmaker, confidant and shoulder to cry on, when needed. It will be a pleasure to assist you, my lords”.
As Milena explains, now that Robahl assigned a part to each of you, you’re supposed to spend much of the remainder of the day being fitted for costumes. Milena does not do this alone―A mix of practical makeup, complex material costumes, and magic, these costumes are quite intricate and must be customized to each of you also with Millech’s magic intervention.
As you are being fitted for costumes, Robahl makes a quick appearance in Milena’s room, encouraging you to bring all of yout favorite gear, armor, and weapons to the future fittings, explaining that when the final play is performed, you’ll need all the help you can get to endure and survive the spectacle. The bulk of the costume design is handled by Millech—your costumes are all already completed, but adjustments for your size, gender, and gear must be made by Milena, whose job is to make the costumes fit perfectly, and all of your gear is incorporated tastefully and skillfully.
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Faustinia endures Robahl's furious ranting with cool detachment. She might feel worse about his criticisms if she had ever claimed to be a proper actor, but she's satisfied with her role as Dentris and is happy that the audition is over. She also just lacks the focus to pay attention to the director's overreactions, holding her head in one hand, nursing the lump that's formed from the vicious bucket's assault, and trying to stay upright and concentrate despite the aching wooziness echoing through her skull.
Meeting Milena and going through the fitting is an altogether more pleasant experience. As her head clears somewhat, she finds Milena's presence calming, and the whole process of the fitting reminiscent of her youth. The beautiful outfits she wore as a young dilettante required a similar intense investment of labor and material, although they had never involved the intricate illusory components of these costumes, and had required an intense discipline to hold still and let the masters of their craft work on a creation with herself as merely a canvas.
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The first day of rehearsal and fitting, Faustinia pays special attention to Millech as he provides the illusions for the stage and their costumes. During the fitting, as Millech provides his magical touches on his designs, Faustinia stays perfectly still unless told to move as she tries on her costume and gets it adjusted. She doesn't say anything for a while, but risks interrupting the man's concentration to say, "Millech . . . I'm intrigued by your abilities. I myself have recently come to study magic, and I find it fascinating. My particular focus is different than yours, and I must admit I don't know terribly much about the school of illusion, although you seem quite well versed in it. How did you come by this skill? You're clearly either well trained or fantastically gifted in its use."
Catina freezes under the barrage of insults and verbal abuse from Robahl. She goes pale again, and - finding herself standing next to Baolus - unconsciously searches for the man's arm for support, squeezing hard. She's afraid to even blink and practically jumps when the director suddenly points at her. When she finds out that she's not sent away, but is given the role of Larazod, she can scarcely believe her ears. Instead, she finds herself faintly nodding, afraid to do or say anything that sets the man off again.
She makes an effort to focus on Robahl's explanation that follows, repeating the main points for herself to make sure she gets them. Rehearsals. Of course. Performance in one week. ONE WEEK?! she breaths in sharply, and steadies herself with an effort of will. Dress rehearsal for public at the Limehouse, without all the actual fighting. That's good, but probably disappointing for the audience. We'll have to show some proper acting, if people aren't going to be distracted by our... by the fighting.
Still kind of numb, Catina follows the others to the costume room. Hearing a friendly voice finally lets her relax a little. "I'm Catina," She introduces herself simply. "No lord," she says as she shakes her head. "Please, just Catina."
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While rehearsing the first Act, Catina tries to spend her spare time close to Calseinica Nymmis. It helps her avoid having to talk to the infuriating Ulvauno, for starters. And the woman seems to be at least somewhat approachable. "Miss. Nymmis," she approaches shyly. "I though maybe we'd get to know each other a bit better, since we're going to be... eh... playing a few, eh... scenes together." She finds her cheeks heating up again, and quickly changes the subject. "Since the four of us are pretty new to this... Do you think maybe you have some advice for us? I've had to spin a tale, sometimes, out on the streets. But that's not really the same as acting out on stage. I have... It's so hard to feel what goes on in a character, but then still have to stick to the lines. Even when you think that's not what Larazod would say. Or at least, what I would say if I was Larazod." She sighs. "I'm not really making and sense, am I?"
Baolus frowns slightly at the man's outburst. His words meant nothing to him, but for a couple seconds he feared that his poor performance by fighting the bucket had infuriated the man to a point that he would dismiss all of them. Luckily it wasn't the case. As Catina reached for his arm, Baolus moved slightly forward, in a reflex attempt to shield her.
When Nonon finishes his cursing and announces their characters, Baolus holds himself not to correct the man about his heritage. I'm much like a Shoanti as you are all Tiens... The dottari though with a bit of resentment.
When Milena introduces herself, Baolus nods and bows slightly to her, glad to see another gentle face around. "And I'm Baolus... much like Catina, I'm no lord... not even close! So just Baolus is definitely enough." The whole experience is completely new to him, and more than once he was pierced by Milena's needles... some of them unintentional, others, perhaps, a bit on purpose, since the man was restless and moving constantly.
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Paying attention to Catina's conversation with Calseinica, Baolus was drinking a mug of water, since his mouth was pretty dry after so much talking, something the man was for sure not used to. When Catina mentions the two making the scenes together, Baolus washed his shirt with the water, missing his mouth by about an inch... the reason was pretty obvious, and to hide a bit of his embarrassment, Baolus quickly turned around, drinking a far larger gulp of water and almost drowning on it, coughing soon after. For Abadar... am I a thirteen year old boy, now?
Resting the now empty mug on a nearby table, Baolus tried to go back and repair a bit of his lost reputation. "Indeed, miss Nymmis, a couple tips would be more than welcomed..."
Petals weathered the tirade in silence, even flinching a time or two. Hard to get angry when you were completely and utterly embarrassed to your core. She got hit IN THE FACE with the bucket! She barely raises her eyes to anyone through it all.
Following the others into the other room. Miliena's warmth makes her look again, seeing the golden haired little woman and feeling instantly better. Well at least a little better. she smiles softly and nods a greeting, I'm Petals, thank you.
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⁞⁞⁞⁞ Day 1 ⁞⁞⁞⁞
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At the fitting with Faustina, she is in awe with all the different fabrics and colors. Not since the temple has she seen the like. Like a closet full of birds she says with a delighted smile. Nice birds though! she hastily adds Millech eyes her, coming in to help work his magic on the two women. Hello again, sorry to give you more work to do.
Listening to Faustina ask about his magical past, she adds Did you go to a school, or are more like me, picking up things as they come around? Petals being very curious. Always wondering if her picking it up without massive study had part to do with being an elf. She hadn't known many magic users in her years. And knew no other elves.
"Millech . . . I'm intrigued by your abilities. I myself have recently come to study magic, and I find it fascinating. My particular focus is different than yours, and I must admit I don't know terribly much about the school of illusion, although you seem quite well versed in it. How did you come by this skill? You're clearly either well trained or fantastically gifted in its use."
Millech is probably not comfortable with sharing details of his past with Lady Faustinia, and perhaps with anyone in general at that, as made clear by the simple grunt he gives her in responde. "Me, gifted? Don't make me laugh!", the hump cuts short, gesturing to his hunchback. Perhaps is too soon to ask personal questions to Millech, or maybe Lady Faustinia just needs to try again in the upcoming days.
Did you go to a school, or are more like me, picking up things as they come around?
"No shchool. Now shtop ashking queshtionsh and shantd shtill". As with Faustinia before, Millech does not seem to be so eager to share the details of his past with Petals, at least not at the moment. It will take some insistency and a silver tongue to win his trust and respect.
"Miss. Nymmis, I though maybe we'd get to know each other a bit better, since we're going to be... eh... playing a few, eh... scenes together."
Calseinica gives Catina a wide smile and with a gesture she invites to join her. "Of course, Catina. I heard you got the part of Lazarod, so we really should be in harmony if we want to properly play our respective roles well! Come!"
"Since the four of us are pretty new to this... Do you think maybe you have some advice for us? I've had to spin a tale, sometimes, out on the streets. But that's not really the same as acting out on stage. I have... It's so hard to feel what goes on in a character, but then still have to stick to the lines. Even when you think that's not what Larazod would say. Or at least, what I would say if I was Larazod. I'm not really making and sense, am I?...
Calseinica gives a little smile to the tiefling and puts her gentle hand on her shoulder. "You see, acting is not about deciding what a character would say in that particular moment, as much as it's about playing his part according to the story. I felt just like you in the past, anyway. I wanted to breathe more life into my characters, and I didn't accept their limitations. Then I understood that the main purpose of a character is to play a role into a story in which other characters are involved too. Even if the character you're playing is the protagonist, always remeber: the story is the true lead. And the story is told by several characters".
At first sight, Calseinica's disposition toward Catina does not seem to have improved. Perhaps it will given the right time, considering Calseinica's friendly attitude, but for now, Calseinica appears to see Catina as a little sister to protect rather than a peer. Perhaps showing some determination to her will win her trust and esteem.
"Indeed, miss Nymmis, a couple tips would be more than welcomed..."
Calseinica giggles as she notices Baolus’ clumsy attempt to drink some water. “Visbaronettes Aulamaxa is the most experienced actress among us, Baolus. I…Well, I don’t have so many tips to share since I…Well, let’s just say that acting comes naturally to me, and all I do is to bring my love for acting and singing onto the stage. Of course, I’ve studied all of my life to get here, but you don’t have the time for that, right?” The woman moves toward Baolus and pats his on the arm. “But you look a sturdy lad, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble. The main issue of this play is the danger of the real fights, but you seem to be more than prepared for that!”
Baolus gets a similar impression to Catina, concerning Calsenica. Perhaps because of his clumsy socialization attempt, Calseinica appears to be seeing him as a clumsy adventurer trying to be an actor, something which Baolus really is of course, but the woman seems to be failing to see anything more than that in Baolus, which is false. Anyway, Baolus has got the impression that with time and repeated efforts, he could win the trust and esteem of Calseinica.
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The first day end an hour before twilight, giving the Irises very little time to do anything else than hurrying to their homes. While Lady Faustinia easily reaches her manor in time, and Catina gets to her temple in Rego Sacer pretty easily, Baolus knows that getting back to his house could arise questions about his presence there and his absence in service in the Rundottari. As such, the ranger decides to follow Petals at the shrine of Aroden and spends the night there, dining with Janiven, Arael, Mathalen and Petals. The other Eyes of Westcrown seem to be pretty eager to know about the casting, and are very happy to know that you got the parts.
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Most of this day consists of the Irises learning their lines and the blocking of motions and actions during the play. Robahl spends most of his time working with Millech to get all of the lighting and effects under control, giving the Irises a chance to practice their lines and spend time with Calseinica, Delour, and Thesing if they wish.
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At night, dinning with the other eyes, Baolus is a bit disappointed with his performance on the trials. "Well, the others were great... I'm just happy that my poor performance wasn't able to ruin the whole plan. In the end, I believe this was the most important thing, even if I'd be much more confident if I had been able to pull my own weight."
Inside his bed, Baolus was a bit anxious about the whole mission, having difficulty to sleep. He could not stop himself from thinking that he would fail and be the responsible for everyone's death. He lost more than a couple hours in this spiral of self pity before shaking his head. He remembered of an old Varisian woman to whom he had helped a couple years ago. A particular sentence coming back to his mind: "The worst monsters in our heads, are the ones ourselves create and feed..." In his mind, he imagined a horrifying flying beast coming towards him... with a single swing from his axe, he slayed the beast, chopping its head off and, just like that, Baolus felt asleep.
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Working on their lines, Baolus was still a bit crude with his acting, but he fealt he was actually improving. Even if it pained him to admit, Thesing knew what he was doing, so he spent most of his time observing him and Calseinica. Drovalid's lines were as elaborated as of the other roles, but even so it was a bit far from Baolus usual language. Taking Calseinica's advice, he tried to feel his character, even if substituting a couple words in the process.
To his surprise, he went better than he had anticipated. When it was the time for a coffee break, Baolus approached Calseinica once more, far more sure of himself this time. "Thank you, Miss Nymmis... it appears you are not only a fine actress but also a pretty good adviser and teacher. I'll not pretend that I'm close to proper acting, since it would take me years, but I feel that I'm not embarrassing myself..." He then notices he had dropped a bit of jam on his armor. "...well, at least not that much."
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Catina sleeps like a brick that night, exhausted with all of the effort and emotions of the day. She's very worried about the performance next week, but also proud of what she's accomplished so far, having finally gotten a chance to be on stage and feel what it's like. On the way back, she decides not to tell at the temple that she's performing on the play. On the one hand, it's art and that should make it okay, but since it's quite a vulgar piece and their group has ulterior motives, it seems best to keep it to herself.
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Still a bit weary, but eager to get as much practice as possible, Catina starts their second day of rehearsal. She notes to her amusement that Baolus once again spends his spare time with Calseinica. Sensing an opportunity for some match-making perhaps (which would be expected of her, if she's ever going to reach beyond acolyte), she starts thinking about the best approach. For now, she doesn't interfer yet: She wants to make a good impression with the actress herself, and is determined to show her progress first. To get some more pointers, she seeks out the 'grand dame' of the threatre company. "Visbaronettes, I haven't had time before for a more proper introduction. I've of your reputation, and hopefully we can all learn from your experience in this profession. Miss Nymmis told me earlier that I shouldn't lose sight of the overall story, by focusing too much at my own character. That must be doubly so when you are the presenter, as you will be. Isn't that right? What has your experience been when performing a single role? How you do create a believable persona, while still sticking to the prescribed text?"
Sleep didn't come easy that night. But it was from excitement instead of dread keeping her awake. Despite her many failures as an actress, and as a warrior, she was having fun.
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⁞⁞⁞⁞ DAY ❷ ⁞⁞⁞⁞
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Hello, Millech! Petals greets the illusionist on the second day. I'm sorry from prying yesterday. While I am really curious, I know sometimes the past is best kept there. making friends isn't Petals' strong point. She was nervous, pulling her braid as she talked. On! Here I made you something to make up yestready. She had stopped by the inn and put together a bun filled with egg, meat, and cheese. Unfortunately she was rushed to make it and get here so... it was horrible. Hopefully she is off again to work on her lines before he throws it in the bin.
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Faustinia leaves Calseinica to her younger allies. The young actress seems nice enough, which is why she's happy to leave her to the others who hadn't developed the same sort of composure and thick skin needed to deal with the sharp tongues and biting personalities of the nobility. So Faustinia resolves to tackle the thorny issue of trying to make their time with Thesing Umbero Ulvauno less miserable herself. As far as she knows, the man is a popular actor but doesn't actually descend from any noble bloodline - but he does act as if to bask in his presence were to have been blessed by the glory of Aroden's return.
Finding Thesing while on a break between practicing and memorizing her lines, Faustinia approaches the man with some caution. "Hello, Thesing. Can you spare a moment?" she asks, and then continues without waiting for an answer. "I feel as though we keep meeting under inauspicious circumstances, and I fear that between our little group of 'adventurers' and you proper actors, there may be some tension, no? Despite the conflicts and harsh words that will repeat between us as we play our roles, I see no reason why that shouldn't stay confined to the stage. So, before we get deep into the rehearsal process, I wanted to apologize for any of my harsh words before and try to start afresh. What do you say?" she asks.
"Visbaronettes, I haven't had time before for a more proper introduction. I've of your reputation, and hopefully we can all learn from your experience in this profession. Miss Nymmis told me earlier that I shouldn't lose sight of the overall story, by focusing too much at my own character. That must be doubly so when you are the presenter, as you will be. Isn't that right? What has your experience been when performing a single role? How you do create a believable persona, while still sticking to the prescribed text?"
The Visbaronettes looks at Catina with an appraising gaze as the tiefling girl asks her some advices on the noble art of acting. As Catina speaks, though, she gets the feeling to have caught the right flow, and every word coming out of her mouth is particularly appropriate, a sensation corroborated by the glimmer of a smile on the Visbaronettes’ blood red lips. “Oh my dear”, answers the woman with a voice both potent and shapely, “Performing is a fickle art, just like a capricious lover. In order to perform well, you need several qualities all together, not any single one. Performing is about interpretation, singing, dancing, elegance, poise, conveying emotion, breathing life into characters, conquering the sympathies of the crows, empathizing with it, making it desire you, long for you, appreciate you, earn the trust and respect of the performing community…It takes time, and judging by the role you were given, I’m afraid you…” The Visbaronettes speaks with an aura of haughty superiority, but her shrewd smirk reveals that Catina managed to be so humble as to get her attention. “Anyway”, the imposing woman sighs, “you need to start from something, after all. Pay attention, then”. The Visbaronette’s smirk turns into a mischievous smile as she reaches out for Catina’s breast and pulls her armor. “You should make them desire you. I know, I know, you’re just a tiefling, and tiefling are hardly paragons of beauty. But even tieflings can be…attractive. Have a good armor crafter reshape your armor in order to show your breast. You should display your wares. Our nobles have a certain appetite for devils. They want to make clear to the world in its entirety that they’re not serving Hell, but rather is Hell which is serving them. And erotic domination is a kind of domination. Make them lust for you. Your legs. They’re not perfect, but they’re in a pretty good shape. Show them. Dare, and show them as much as possible without actually revealing their origin. Tell your armor crafter to design an armor which shows your legs. Do that, and you will get their attention.”
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Hello, Millech! I'm sorry from prying yesterday. While I am really curious, I know sometimes the past is best kept there. On! Here I made you something to make up yestready.
Millech takes the bun and observes it with attention. “You’re kind. Thank you”, simply says the hump before getting back to his duties. It’s clear that Petals will have to work harder in order to secure Millech’s friendship. At least, now she knows that the hump is not particularly fond of gifts.
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"Hello, Thesing. Can you spare a moment? I feel as though we keep meeting under inauspicious circumstances, and I fear that between our little group of 'adventurers' and you proper actors, there may be some tension, no? Despite the conflicts and harsh words that will repeat between us as we play our roles, I see no reason why that shouldn't stay confined to the stage. So, before we get deep into the rehearsal process, I wanted to apologize for any of my harsh words before and try to start afresh. What do you say?"
Thesing laughs with impertinence at Lady Faustinia’s words. “What do I say? Well, it’s a simple of life that if one associates with a kind of people, he can’t be better than them. You are associated with street thugs pretending to be actors, arrogant and pestering muttonhead without a brain. Why should I accept your apologies when I know that you’re not even worth the time I’m spending talking to you? Leave me be, now, and return to your ignorant thugs!” Thesing is really, really, really intolerable, and his arrogance is matched only by his gall. He’s a difficult person to befriend, almost impossible.
After spending the second day at the Limehouse Theater, the members of the heterogeneous group of Wiscrani heroes return to their homes. Lady Faustinia gets back to her manor, a wondrous place whose glory has faded long ago, while Catina returns to the Temple of Shelyn, the place where her parents left her before their mysterious disappearance. Petals and Baolus, although for different reasons, both find shelter in the Shrine of Aroden.
Once the Kalabuta ranger and the young elf arrive in the safehouse, they immediately realize that something is different from the previous day. Janiven and Mathalen are not in the temple. Sitting in the main room, Arael talks keeping his voice low with a grizzled man wearing a long, black hooded cloak. As soon as the two Irises arrive, Arael rises and meets them halfway to the long table. “Welcome back, my friends!”, the half-elf says with a warm even though a little concerned smile, “Petals, would you mind following me upstairs? Baolus, your captain wants to talk to you.”
With that said, Arael leads Petals upstairs, but refuses to give her further explanation about Baolus’ mysterious interlocutor except that he will be announcing something important tomorrow morning at the presence of the whole group of the Eyes. Arael and Petals have their dinner together in a small room, talking about the day’s events and how did the group perform during the rehearsals. The leader of the Eyes of Westcrown also offers the Shelynite elf a glass of good red wine from Corentyn before saying goodnight to her and asking her to wake up early in the morning for a group meeting in the main hall.
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Lady Faustinia and Catina are both reached half-an-hour or so before dusk by a runner: Janiven for Catina, Morosino for Lady Faustinia. The messengers tell the oldest members of the Irises about a meeting that Arael has organized for the following morning, right after dawn. “Important announcements will be done”, reveals the runners before hurrying back to a place where they can take shelters from the shadows prowling in the streets at night.
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The following morning, the whole group of the Eyes gathers in the shrine’s main hall. There are a few noteworthy absences–Ermolos, Rizzardo and Larko are not attending the meeting, and Baolus is missing as well. “Brother and sisters of Westcrown, trusted friends and beloved companions, we’re here today to make two important announcements.” Arael’s voice is calm and authoritative as always, and there’s nothing in his tone suggesting that he’s shocked, angry or simply upset by something. “Our recent affiliated, Baolus Yeralzeray, has had to leave us. His captain, Arik Tuornos, needed him for a crucial mission. Believe me when I say that Baolus will be missed, and that it will be very hard to do without him, but Durotas Tuornos is a good friend of mine and asked me to return him his most trusted man. There are internal feuds in the Rundottari, and Arik needs Baolus at his side now that things are growing increasingly dangerous for him and those loyal to him, which is, those few Rundottari truly loyal to their duties. Baolus couldn’t refuse, and we couldn’t keep him here against his will. He owes everything to Durotas Tuornos.” Arael sighs. “Thus, the Irises are going to miss another part once again, after Lorenzo and Sev. This is very sad, I know…”
The Eyes begin whispering concerned comments as a reaction to the unexpected news. Arael clears his throat and asks for everyone’s attention. “Please! Silence, please! Hey, everyone! Let me finish my speech, please...” The chatty noise suddenly goes silent. “Thank you. Please don’t be afraid, because even if one of our most heroic member has to leave, we will more than make up for him with two new members. At least, this is what I’m trying to do. I’m still not completely sure about my choice, but I think I’ve got two strong candidates to join our group. I need to talk with them, in private, before allowing them to join us...”
Janiven starts a round of applause to cheer up the group’s morale, and the Eyes follow her. “This means that if I end up recruiting both of our prospective members, the Irises will become a team of five instead of four. Also, the Eyes will expand as well. I’ve decided to welcome Avirah in our group. She will join us in a couple of days, as soon as he solves some personal matters…She will live at the Shrine together with Mathalen and Petals.” Arael’s eyes linger on Catina, as though he was trying to glimpse the tiefling’s reaction to the unexpected news.
“That’s all, my dear friend. Now, let’s have a good breakfast together before returning to our own businesses. For Westcrown!”
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At breakfast, the Eyes of Westcrown are clearly a little concerned about the news they learned from Arael, but also excited about the prospect of new members.
Amaya, Gorvio, Morosino, Yakopulio: This group ask the Irises about their experience at the Limehouse Theater and are eager to know more about the play, the plot and the rehearsals, along with any gossip about the cast.
Fiosa, Mathalen, Yorith: This group is talking about the new members who will be soon joining the Eyes of Westcrown. They appear to be very curious about them, although both Yorith and Fiosa express their doubts about Avirah—they don’t seem to trust her, and accept the decision to welcome her in the organization only because they respect Arael’s wisdom and authority.
Arael, Janiven, Tarvi, and Vitti: This group is talking about giving the shrine better protections against intruders, spies, inquisitors and anyone else who might be interested in impairing the organization.
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The evening chatting with Arael was pleasant, though she was worried about the intensity Baolus was giving off after seeing his captain. She is worried about the man who kept her sane...ish... in the prison cell, and even more worried when he is not there the next morning.
No goodbye she mumbles, trying not to feel hurt.
Just means he doesn't mean for it to be goodbye, little one. her mother's sweet thought answers.
Still a see you soon, good luck at the play, something would have been good manners... wouldn't it? her petulant thought responds.
A melodious chuckle is all she gets for that one.
Shaking off her internal dialog, she sees Faustinia and Catina look to each other, making the hurt run a little deeper. She's now the only outsider. The only new eye. Well two new ones soon, but that meant two joining at the same time, two sharing that... but her... Baolus damn you for leaving...
As the groups split up to chat, Petals gravitates toward Yakopulio, hoping the gnome's brash wit would cheer her, but as she hears the name of her new roommate being discussed in Mathalen's group, she edges that way. Um... excuse me... who is Avirah? If you don't mind me asking, that is.
Catina nods in silence at the Visbaronettes' listing of all the qualities that go into becoming a good actor, trying to remember as much of it as possible. She pulls back ever so slightly as the woman grabs for her armor, but doesn't dare object. "Oh..." she stammers, feeling quite uncomfortable. "Domi... Domination? My... my legs?" The tiefling girl nods her head a couple of times again, carefully removing herself from the omposing woman. "I'll... think about it. Thank you for your time, and for the... helpful pointers. I'll... think about it." With a head full of doubts and worries, she clear herself from the conversation and goes back to studying her lines, which seems perfectly safe for the moment.
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The Visbaronettes' words are still actively on Catina's mind when she rejoins the Eyes the next morning. As she walks through the city and regards the others, she finds her eyes drawn to state of dress and how people (women) wear them. Once Arael takes the stage, those thoughts are displaced by more pressing matters. Catina looks sad along with the others when Arael states that Baolus was needed elsewhere, but the news is also comforting in a sense: it makes her feel part of something even larger, knowing that Baolus will continu to work for the benefit of Westcrown, in the best way he can. She tries to say as much to calm the Eyes, but Arael already takes the attention again.
Catina cheers along with the others at the mention of two new people being added to the Irises, but her cheer isn't exuberant. There's a bit of worry as well, with two new persons to get to know, and get to trust, rely on. It's become easier for Catina since she first joined the Eyes, but the prospect still scares her a bit. Luckily, Arael's last announcement lifts Catina's spirits. "I knew it!" Slightly stunned by the news, she joins the others for breakfast, hovering close to Mathalan.
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Catina was looking forward to discussing the possibilities for their new companions with Mathalan, but finds herself having to defend Avirah against Fiosa and Yorith's distrust. She's having a hard time with it, because their distrust fans her own insecurities concerning letting the girl join. She's relieved to see Petals join, hoping for a supporting voice. "Avirah. That's the tiefling girl that we met at the Bastard's hideout." She suddenly realizes that this group was responsible for kidnapping Petals, and has second thoughts about the Elven woman's support. "I... I talked with her afterwards. She's hard a pretty hard time in life, and has grown hard because of it. But I really felt that we could help here, if we gave her a place where she could belong, be herself." She turns to Fiosa and Yorith again, trying to make her case. "I am sure she may have made some wrong choices in life, such as joining up with the Bastards. But I can understand that feeling so well, of wanting to belong somewhere. Then, if we finds someone who we think could make a turn for the better - as Arael thinks, the same way I do - then shouldn't we give them that chance? We will have to lead by example, shouldn't we, to show the Wiscrani that there is another way..."
Ah... Petals looks confused trying to remember Avirah exactly. It was a mess down there, so many dead. She can't remember talking to any other than the boss. There was that period Catina and Arael left for a bit though. Well we've all done things we're ashamed of... she says softly, eyes drifting to Fiosa and Yorith's, and giving them a shrug. Catina's spent the most time with her right? I trust Catina, don't you?
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Later away from the others, she asks Catina, Are you going to stay in the temple still or move in here? We have plenty of rooms, and... she hesitates, I mean... selling our location to the devils, would tempt anyone and if you are the reason she's trying to change, it might help her resist that temptation by having you here.
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Faustinia is happy to attend a breakfast with the Eyes of Westcrown. Although she hadn't expected the life of an actor to be easy, she was having trouble connecting to her new colleagues. Perhaps they didn't want to grow too attached to people who they thought would almost certainly be gruesomely mauled on stage in a week, or perhaps in the case of people like Thesing they were simply self-involved and insufferable egomaniacs. Regardless, she looks forward to Arael's important announcements.
She takes Baolus leaving with a stoic deep breath. Certainly the Eyes would be diminished by his loss, but Faustinia takes comfort in knowing that he's returning to fight against the corruption encroaching on the honor left within the Rundottari. She figures Baolus will be more comfortable with the structure of a guard anyway. She perks up at the news of new recruits, though. Faustinia is immediately curious about whom Arael has reached out to to join the Irises, but she knows better than to pry. Besides, she's even more interested in Avirah joining. She looks over to Catina, trying to catch her eye after the announcement, and presents a calm smile of approval.
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Faustinia joins Tarvi for breakfast, glad to again be in the company of her protégé. The young woman's admiration is a welcome change after being berated at the Limehouse, as is Arael’s gentle leadership. Catching the thread of the conversation, Faustinia nods in agreement that the Eyes should be paying attention to their defenses. ”We've taken important first precautions, and I think the main thing is making sure our members stay discreet. However, there's always more we could do. I've been instructing Tarvi in magical study, and she's a natural Abjurer. With time and experience, I'm sure she would be able to assist with some long term magical protections, in addition to some more situational ones immediately,” Faustinia brags, smiling at her student.
Not wanting to put too much pressure on her, though, she turns to the others. ”What were you all thinking, though? And if you'll pardon my fickle memory, your name is Vitti, isn't it?” she asks the green-haired man who seems to have brought his own foraged food to the Eyes’ breakfast. ”We haven't had much time to get acquainted before, but if you have thoughts on our security, I'm sure just about anything is worth considering to make sure we're safe here.”