Bethana scoffs at Yeda's remark about not dressing up. she stomps over and thrusts a narrow finger up at yeda. Even though the halfling stood just the thinnest hair over three feet in height, the fire in her eyes gave her an extra 10 feet. Not dress up?!?! Are you serious?! I- you she blusters a bit more as her mind comprehends what was said. She shakes her head Come with me! I am not going to allow one of my Mistresses dinner parties to be dirtied up because one woman "doesnt have clothes." she finishes the last with her hands up, making quotes. I dont know what can be done for that handsome rogue, perhaps Shayliss has him and will cloth him properly. But for you, young Yeda, The mistress has some old dresses in her private rooms. I am sure she'd have no problem lending you something... though you are a bit taller and more stout in the shoulders than Ameiko. Her hand reaches out and grasps the Shoanti woman's hand in an iron grip. Come. She turns and pulls her out the room. (yet, she has a moment to direct a warm smile at Loxley).
No no, really! It's fine. I'm just the common muscle. Look at the size of this sword.
Yeda will make every attempt to escape the halfling.
Uh, potty break!
"its kinda fun actually... getting to be dressed up. Look at this awesome fur i got.
He tilted his head and watched her for a moment.
"maybe i can get some flowers nad make you a flower crown to be special yes?"
He offered to Yeda.
No, no flower crown! Just a guard. Pretend I have a beard!
She winces at herself, realizing the implications of this may not convey what she intended to.
Rusty Dragon, upstairs
Despite the fear and anxiety that had gripped her not but minutes ago, Loxley couldn’t help but start to chuckle and hold back a laugh at Yeda’s repeated attempts to dissuade Bethanna.
”Come now Yeda.”
She grinned.
”I think a flower crown would look perfect.”
When the warrior woman mentioned imagining her with a beard, poor Loxley couldn’t hold it in. She covered her mouth as she started to laughing uncontrollably.
Nonsense. A crown of flowers would look good upon you. Especially Daffodils. Bethana smirks, dragging the woman out of the room.
His path wound through the city, yet eventually his path takes him back to the Hagfish.
You can let go...
"I would have thought thistle" Zeldana said as she watched them leave with a small smile. "Now we just need to find Sazzat"
a growl that would make any large saber-cat proud erupts from the halflings small frame. Yeda! she thunders at you. you get back here right now! or- or- a slight pause, and then I'll call upon the gods above and below to curse the blade you hold to forever break! she snaps off with authority.
Sazzat stands for a moment within the shadows eyeing the Hagfish, going in would announce his arrival and there were still two other individuals out and about the city, assuming they had not already arrived here, that concerned him. As such, he looked for a much more advantageous spot to keep an eye on the Hagfish while keeping very much hidden from view. Then he waited a long while to see if either of those other two showed up here. If after that time period passed and he did not see either of those other two, he would stealthily approach and see if he could determine if they had already arrived and were already inside.
Oooh! Taproom.
She sheaths her sword and looks around for an extra mug to fill, trying to stand out of sight of Bethana and pretend she's not yelling.
Eventually the others left Loxley, and she reassured them as they did. But once the door was close she was again left with her fears. The smile quickly fading as the knot of anxiety twisted in her chest.
Her mind a jumble of thoughts and scenarios playing out. Best outcome, dinner goes fine and everything ends pleasantly. Bad outcome, Duchness crashes the dinner, everything burns in the chaos and she’s run out of town by torches and pitch forks...
Why pitchforks? She wondered at one point. There are plenty of other tools and weapons at the disposal of townsfolk…
There were a few variations in between. Most considered unfavorable. One or two, quite favorable. Loxley reddened a little as she shook off the thoughts to focus on the present. She cleaned herself up and fixed her hair as best she could.
Once her outfit arrived she forgot about her problems for a few moments. She brightened again as she put on the blouse and skirt. Giving it a quick twirl in front of the mirror then smoothed it out. Digging in her pack she found the remains of what little face paints she had and sat on the bed with her hand mirror.
She wiped off her first attempt and tied again, attempting to be more subtle. Nodding to herself in approval she gathered her belongs and repacked her bags. Everything was ready to go and she felt bad looking over it. As it was, she could grab her belongings on a moment’s notice and be on her way out of town before anyone could stop her.
She hated herself for considering it a possibility, but she had to be honest with herself. Despite her comrades’ assurances, she couldn’t let them get hurt if someone came for her.
And there was the call to dinner… the moment of truth had arrived.
Loxley gathered her courage, opened the door and headed downstairs to the dining hall…
He closed his eyes and remembered the ceremony when he had first recieved it. It was quite the party... He chuckled to himself when he recalled his eldest sister getting caught by their mother in the cellar with one of the young outstriders.. Sequathos was his name. They still laughed about it when it was brought up during large gatherings... His poor sister Alyndasta... His smile faded when the inevitible moment occured that he remember his family was gone... and by this point almost four years later obviously for good. The first tear fell to the mask.
Rage welled up in him battling the sadness. He would find who took his people from him.. he would flay them, he would rip their skin from their flesh and drink their souls in.. he would. His hands jerked away from the mask in horror and he started breathing heavily trying to think nice thoughts... Something was definitely wrong with him... He glanced down at the mask that was supposed to protect him from the influences of the dark one... the acient evil trapped beneath the earth that his people were suppposed to guard.
Panic filled him. He understood that the elders believe it was their blood that kept the monster locked away....and the mask was supposed... He looked down at the wood and leaves all expertly woven together and his features softened. There had been a ceremony and the elders had handed him his adult mask... ceremonies were simular to rituals.. rituals usually involved magic... His old mask had been enchanted.... this one was not. He frowned. That had to be why he was hearing the voices and whispers... he would have to remedy that asap.
But he knew nothing of such things. what he did know was that he had friends some of whom were smart about things like this... they could help him. The evil one... the angelkin with the demonic arm. She was mad clearly perhaps driving to things by voices... had she lost her battle to them? If she had he had to help her. No tainted soul remained that way if one strove to fix their wrongs. He would speak to her... after the dinner though. he had many questions...
As he sat there with the mask he realized he had not properly bathed in a long long time. there was no time for a proper bath, but he could certainly do come field cleaning. He carefully removed his 'fancy' clothing and took a cloth from his pack dousing it with his waterskin and he took some herb laden soap and scrubbed the grime off in his room... when that was down and he felt cleaner at least he once more donned the clothing like armor. He hesistated with the mask and his spears.
This dinner was a battle.. of that he was sure, thought it was not one fought with swords and spears...He set his spears to the side and made sure his dagger was set properly on his hip in a prominant enough view it was obvious it was there and he pulled his hair back in a tight tail threading a string through it to keep it back and out of his vision before he affixed his mask over his gaze... as if he were going into combat... with that he made his way downstairs...
And yet, no sign of those men in black.
Finally, minor frustration sets in, and after a mental count in your head, you rise from the shadows, and begin to stalk to the hagfish.
The knot of emotions at the back of your mind that represents your animal companion, Bandit, flares wildly. Concern, annoyance, urgency, worry, all flow through the bond.
Well! Arent you a sight for sore eyes! A voice, feminine, silky and sultry blended together, caresses your ears, cutting off any thought or acknowledgement to Bandit nor his emotional sendings.
You turn, and spot Evriani striding confidently towards you from just around the corner of the Academy. Going to the Hagfish? Mind if i join you? she asks as she steps closer and slips an arm onto yours, holding you close to her side.
Mistreating the Mistress like this. after she's graciously allowed you to stay here in the Rusty Dragon. Oh, sure. It's because you saved the town, and she was nice enough to offer you her gratitude, but- she cuts off with a heavy sniff.
Be that as it may, since you insist on not dressing up properly, then i shant tell you who the secret admirer is that shall be attending the dinner. As he says, he wishes to see you. Perhaps, if one had been dressed up in clothing that she isnt associated with, perhaps the encounter could be avoided. But... Get off your butt, young sellsword! Help out the mistress set the table. that's what sellswords who dont have a reason to draw their blade do when demanded. They help The petite halfling snaps her finger and points out to the common floor. And help escort those men out of here please. Unless youre not strong enough
the cards, they spoke to you. they hummed with your grandmother's warmth. Youve felt your grandmother's presence through the cards before, but today, this moment, it was intense! So much more intense than ever before. Emotions, happiness, practically obscene levels of the emotion, oozed from the deck and suffused you.
Bandit though, His hackles were raised. He growled low after eating the small melon that one of the maidens provided you and him to enjoy before the large dinner with the nobles. His bark was soft, lowkey, yet almost felt half hearted, as if he was warning something off. And everytime you reached out to give him a pat or scratch, he seemed to shy away from your hand for a moment, a fiery flash of anger crossing his eyes before his blinks and calms for the scritches.
Calming yourself, your mind drifts, thinking of your friends, your companions, the events of the last few days, the dinner, going back out to Thistletop on the morrow, all of it.
You had been sitting there, spending your time making half hearted harrow readings, looking, thinking, interpreting. Yet this time, you focused. You focused upon the need, the need to know the future, to help, to be there for someone.
Yet, for everyone you thought of, your mind drifts back to Loxley, to her revelations, to her plight.
You shuffle the deck, and pause, forming the question in your mind.
you whisper the words youve heard your grandmother speak over the last years before her untimely death, and then you spread the cards in a wide display before you. First, you choose the role card, and set that to the side, face down. Then, given the dire news concerning loxley, you decide to draw nine cards for the Tapestry, and arrange them, face down, in the three by three grid that represent the morals and ethics found throughout the realms.
You both step out of your respective rooms at the same time, and smile at each other at the sheer happenstance. the sound of wood scrapping across the stone floors of the common room drift harshly up the staircase, with the snapping tones of Bethana cracking her voice whip like at the unlucky person.
Rusty Dragon
Pulling her courage around her like a veil Loxley stepped out into the hall. As she did she saw Corrin leaving his room as well. The Arcanist offered the Druid a small smile and nodded.
“I hope at least one of us is ready for this.”
She joked, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
With a deep breath she moved down the short hall to the stairs down to the hall. Loxley had to chuckle as she heard Bethanna unleashing her fury at some poor server or cook below.
As she descended the stairs she spotted the little lady sending the warrior near twice her size about like a common house maid.
When the Survivor show in the present, Zeldana read that as Loxley's ability to continue free from those who chased her. Yet the Teamster followed which warned Zeldana that Loxley was, as she had stated, still running from this... And the Mute Hag could only be this Duchess who knew everything of Loxley's secret and was willing to drag her friend away to a horrible life, if it could be called that...
A moment of doubt passed through Zeldana's mind when her hand hovered above the first card of the future. But to be greeted by the Big Sky set aside Zeldana's doubts, as a momentous change, freedom. However when the Courtesan followed, Zeldana's eyes narrowed. It wasn't an ill-omen, simply political intrigue... social niceties. Zeldana tapped the card twice, before she swiftly slid her hand down and flipped the last card over to see the Demon's Lantern. Holding her breath without knowing it Zeldana's mind raced like the Sandpoint devil upon the sandy beaches of the sea shore.
Zeldana coughed when she ran out of breath, she hadn't even realized she was holding it. Swiftly snatching up her cards she looked around and saw Loxley.
When Loxley entered the main room, Zeldana waved her down from the area on the other end of the room.
Trying to make sense of Bandit's emotions, Sazzat is momentarily distracted and only notices Evriani once she spoke out. This did not bode well, and was it more than coincidental. Either way it did not matter, entering the Hagfish overtly had not been on his agenda, and was not still but how to handle this adroitly just in case.
"Well... while I was thinking about slipping in and grabbing a pint, I was also on the fence about it. However... entering with you... well... no offense mind you, but that could cause me a lot of grief. I mean I have a..." takes a deep audible breath in through his nose and then says, "girlfriend after all. Whose father's business lies right over there. So all things considered, I am going to have to regretfully," he over emphasizes regrettfully, "decline your most generous offer of... uh... comraderie or." he gives a smile and a shrug but lives it hanging, in case the offer had included more than just comraderie. He saw no reason to completely shut the door on the lady, but now was not the time to forgo all of one's senses for the potential promise of hidden treasures. As such, he expertly disentangles himself saying, "So until next time m'lady," he makes a courtly bow, "I must bid you ado."
Unless she attempts to stop him he will side-step her with a sort of courtly twirling dance step and walk in the direction of Ven's place of business.
Rusty Dragon
Pulling her courage around her like a veil Loxley stepped out into the hall. As she did she saw Corrin leaving his room as well. The Arcanist offered the Druid a small smile and nodded.
“I hope at least one of us is ready for this.”
She joked, but it didn’t reach her eyes.With a deep breath she moved down the short hall to the stairs down to the hall. Loxley had to chuckle as she heard Bethanna unleashing her fury at some poor server or cook below.
As she descended the stairs she spotted the little lady sending the warrior near twice her size about like a common house maid.
He paused his eyes eeriely unblinking under the mask as he studied Loxley for a moment. Family problems were following her about like a dark omen as well. He felt for her. She had lost all her family too. His eyes widened a moment as a thought raced through his mind. Ameiko had known the blood ritual needed to become bloodsworn siblings... could she guide Loxley in the same way? She would have family again, and her burdens could be shared. Something to ask his sister about for sure. . . after the dinner.
"Do you know what dinners like this are like? Im leaving my spears... will i ndeed them. It was made to sound like this was some sort of stylized battle. . . I dont want to be underarmed. The snow leopard ... its not too much is it?"
He asked her still not sure of his outfit.. he felt a little silly in all the brighter colors.
Loxley glanced back at Corrin and tilted her head as she regarded him.
”I think you look fine. I’m sure you’ll be the talk of the young ladies by the marrow.”
She said, giving him a more natural smile.
“I think I can say with confidence that you won’t need your spears. The only battling here tonight will be with words, under the guise of civility.”
As she reached the bottom she tried to calm her nerves. Zeldana’s waving caught her attention and she gave her a small smile. Looking back she bid Corrin to follow with a nod in Zel’s table.
”Be a gentleman and get a couple ladies drinks?”
She asked in a teasing voice, seemingly a little more relaxed then she was upstairs a moment ago.
But at the end, with the last one tossed, you could see bethana chuckling to herself, shaking her head. You head over to her, and she lifts her hands in mock surrender easy there. Dont crush me she leaned over and starts bawling with laughter.
All the warmth (and potential pleasure treasures that could be held) upon Evriani's face vanish instantly, replaced with an icy coldness that made the coldest blizzards in the far northern reaches in the darkest of nights hold more warmth. Her eyes hammer daggers into you as you bow and step away from her.
Im better than her. Your "girlfriend"
You turned your head just in time to see her lowering her hands and crossing them beneath her breasts. She shifts slightly, resting her weight upon one leg and thrusting another out in front of her, allowing her long skirt to shift, parting around to reveal a long, slender leg.
Before you can answer, she sniffs loudly, twists around, and strides to the entrance of the Hagfish, slamming the doors wide open and closes behind her.
Loxley flushed a little at Bethanna’s compliments, waving dismissively.
”Flatterer.”
She accused as the barmaid lead Corrin to the bar.
Loxley herself crossed the room to join Zeldana at her table.
”I hope the cards are being kind.”
She commented with a gesture at the deck the witch was fidgeting with.
However, what is... was what is and unless he wanted a world of grief at this point, which he did not care for, now or ever. He had to play a role that had been thrust upon him by, he believed, the gods themselves. He was pretty sure the daliance would turn into naught, as much of his previous daliances had but who was he to thwart the will of the gods. He was just a leaf in the breeze, condemned to move in the direction of the winds that the gods put forth. A mere pawn in their cosmic game of chess.
While this seemed fatilistic to some degree, he was aware his choices did alter the use of him as a pawn and as long as he remained a useful piece he would not be removed from the board. The key was knowing how much leaway he had between what he wanted versus what they designed.
As such after disappearing begind Ven's place of business he continued on and then circled back so as to hopefully gain access to the Hagfish undetected, so as to spy upon the goings on within without anyone knowing he was even there.
"That cards are always kind Loxley, as they are kind enough to show what Fate has instore." Zeldana said with a smile. "People always think Fate is set in stone, but... well it is more like climbing a tree. So many different branches to grab." She tried to explained.
However she paused for a moment and look at Loxley. "I read your Fate." Zeldana finally admitted, waiting to see how her friend would react.
See? Taking out the trash is what I do. Now, just let me stand guard at the door and everybody will be helpful and productive in their own way tonight.
”Oh?”
Her smile faulted for a moment and Loxley looked away, feigning interest in what was happening at the bar. She quickly tried to recover, finally looking back at Zeldana with a smile that was strained.
”So, do I marry into wealth? Do I catch the eye of some foreign merchant nobility?”
She tried to sound casual and jovial in her jest.
"You need to be very careful moving forward." Zeldana said simply. "I think maybe you should use this dinner in the same way the mayor is wanting to. Rub elbows with the nobles, get on their good side .. but that in and of itself will cause problems." she sighed. "I cannot say much more at the moment."
He wasnt sure what the ladies wanted at all... and there were a lot of options.. but he settled with 3 ales and 3 red wines. He took a moment to grip the ale mugs byt the handles with one hand and carefully slid the stems of the wineglases between his fingers with the other hand carefully making his way to where Zeldana sat.
"Uh.. Ladies."
He said carefully setting down the drinks before joining them awkwardly watching the room.
Loxley looked uncomfortable for a moment. Closing her eyes she took a breath and exhaled it. When she opened them again she gave Zeldana a weak smile.
“Life if a long string of problems.”
She offered in mock sagedom.
”It’s how we deal with them that we call living. Or, at least, that was what a traveling monk once told me.”
Loxley gave a small shrug as Corrin rejoined them with drinks. She smiled at the Druid as he arrived.
”Ah, thank you.”
She said accepting one of the wines and taking a sip.
not bothering to listen to what the steersman commands, you walks nonchalantly at the Hagfish, the side facing Sandpoint proper. You chose the location after noticing a cat leap up into the eaves from a couple of stacked boxes leaning against the building itself. You step up, purposefuly, assuming the confidence of one who should be there, not one who is cautious, or furtive.
You step up to the boxes and squat down, seeming to inspect something. You grab a bit of wood from the ground, a scrap of something that is weathered and aged, and hold it high. You care not what you hold, your attention is focused upon where the cat could have slipped in, and after a moments consideration, you spot it. A crawl space, between the rafters, does exist. You smirk slightly, remembering seeing that the runners inside the large hall did extend past the bar, yet held a larger gap between them than most others youve seen. However, you are not an engineer nor architect, so such concepts of load bearing, arid, draft control, such things do not enter your mind. For you, you have a means of entering the Hag Fish without being seen.
You snap your head around you once more, looking for anywho whos looking in your direction, yet see no one. Not waiting for chance to spoil your opportunity, you leap from your crouch and easily grasp the exposed wood under the runners. You catch the lip and wiggle yourself up into the narrow space with ease.
It's the smell that almost forces you out, though.
the thick smell of fish guts, rotted seafood carcass, corruption and death fills this area, the narrowness causes it to linger. Your stomach clenches and gurgles as you gasp in more of the noxious concoction of death.
of course. im over Norah's glass box you think to yourself as you push down the urge to vomit. you clench your teeth hard, and cough into the back of your throat. Yet your committed to this area, no place to crawl to, except forward to the roar of fellowship and conversation within the common room, or back out and risk exposure.
You slither forward, dust bunnies quickly coating your clothing, hair; cobwebs lay lightly upon your face, teasing you with thoughts of eight legged creatures crawling upon you, and worse, under your clothing.
yet finally you crawl forward, and in the darkness of the eaves, you are able to gaze upon the bar below with absolute ease.
There, in the center, as if she had never left, sits the Duchess. And with her, in her brown dress, sits Evriani. Both ladies sit close to each other, holding glasses of red liquid (one can only assume them to be wine, or perhaps a brandy) in inattentive hands. The tables surrounding the pair are clear of people, giving the two a sense of privicay in a public avenue.
you look around the room, taking in everything, and notice, upon the right wall related to where you lay, one of the men in black. He stands still, leaning against the wall. Only his head turns, his eyes moving slowing across the room.
A loud shout draws your attention to the back, the seaward entrance to the Hagfish, A welcome sight to sailors just arrived and on shoreleave. Men and women stand around tables, too crowded to see what they look at, but given the laughter and lone person that appears helpless, certain types of gambling games are occurring. You are about to pull your gaze away from the crowd when it parts enough to offer you a glimpse of the far wall, the seawall you heard others call it during your brief time earlier in the day with yeda. Another of the men in black, yet he squats low, hidden by the crowd. His eyes also look around, canvasing the room. Just as suddenly he was revealed, he is swallowed again by the gambling crowd.
You look to your left, to the western wall, and easily spot the third man in black. He mirrors his other companions, leaning upon the wall and looking. Suddenly, his head snaps to the seawall, and your eyes follow his, looking for something that drew his attention.
a moment later, your question is answered, for the door slams open loudly, and the largest man you have ever seen ducks into the room. Within the room, just inside the door, he stands up fully erect, and his massive torso completely blocks out the outline of the door jam. Up and up he lifts himself, until finally the top of his chest stands taller than the upper door frame.
Brown locks flow from his head and upon his shoulders. The term "broad of shoulders" would only insult the width of this mans shoulders. He is broad. Broad of shoulder, broad of torso, broad of everything. he wears the colors of Brown and golden yellow, upon his chest an emblem, easy to discern from this distance due to its size. A boar, upon a field of wheat. underneath the jerkin that carries the emblem, a long jacket of Chain mail. over his shoulder, a single handle for something sticks out just above. upon his waist, two swords, one larger than the other.
Stand to! Lord Deverin, Lord of the brews of Magnimar enters. Stand to, or answer to me
The voice was deep, very deep. Deeper that a mountain cats growl. yet, as deep as it is, it was smooth, like velvet upon a maidens soft bottom. No gravely tone, a smoothness of one who doesnt have to raise his voice to be heard.
Instantly chairs and benches shriek and groan as people leap to their feet. your gaze swings low to catch sight of the Duchess and Evriani. Evriani reacted instantly, leaping to her feet, the movement causing her wine to spill onto her dress, unnoticed. The Duchess, however, doenst move. She sits still and sips her wine.
The massive man steps to the side, and behind him, a shorter man, much much shorter, steps in, and with him a younger lady. The man wears the colors of Brown and golden yellow, yet even from this distance sazzat and tell they are cut expertly. The lady, her hand upon the man's arm, wears black, with a black lace veil that obscures her visage.
Ah, thank you Gokinsae. Lord Deverin says in appreciation.
Standing next to the giant Gokinsae, Lord Deverin looked as though a toddler to a parent. However, he had a fatherly look upon his features. Concern and caring were clearly evident. He looked about the room, smiling, even taking a moment to approach a bystander adn shaking the womans hand.
The squeal of a chair fills the quieted room. Wood scraping upon wood, you snap your sight to the source, and see the Duchess slowly standing to her feet. her wineglass was left behind upon the table.
Lord Deverin, along with everyone else in the room, all look back to the Duchess, who merely stands there, unperturbed by the attention.
Duchess- The lord cuts off as his voice cracks momentarily in surprise. Duchess. What a pleasant surprise. he says, his tone warm.
And to you as well, Lord. The Duchess replies, as equal to equal. What brings my lord to Sandpoint? she asks, stepping aside and waving her hand to her chair, a clear invitation.
The lord looks from the Duchess to the lady upon his arm, a slight smile upon his face. I escort this lady here, the Lady Ayame Kaijitsu, to her family so that she may pay her final respects to her recently deceased father, Lord Lonjiku Kaijitsu. Come, my dear. A single drink between old aquaintences. Ayame must have mummered something in agreement, for a smile flashes upon his face and he guides her past the crowd and to the table where the Duchess and Evriani stand.
And who is this, Lady? Lord Deverin asks, gazing at Evriani.
Evriani d'Krent, My lord evriani answers, dropping into a deep curtsey.
As you were, everyone! Gokinsae purrs loudly, and after a brief pause, everyone picks up where they left off...
"Problems don't need to be taken on alone." Zeldana reminded Loxley, returning her weak smile with a strong one. "I'm always here."
"Hey Corrin" Zeldana said with a nod, getting up slightly to help him set the drinks down on the table.
"any idea what this all is going to be? I am.. trepiditious.. ah nervous. things have gotten weird the last couple of days and I dont know if im prepared for this."
He began taking one of the ales as he sat down and taking a long pull from it.
you both look very nice in your dresses.
Bethana clucked Yeda into action, shooing her towards the center of the taproom.
Yes yes, you're a fine fighter. Let's see you move about these chairs and tables. we must set the long table for the Lords and Ladies, and your fine companions. she took a moment and sniffed loudly at Yeda. Why you cant deign to wear a dress to honor the Mistress is beyond me. she sniffed once more, a stern look upon her face as she walks past, helping.
The view provided to Corrin, Zeldana, and Loxley is one of humor, watching the Halfling matron boss around the taller warrior woman. Yes, that table and no, not that chair! sound from the matron of maids at the Rusty Dragon Inn. Gone are the round tables, replaced by two long rectangular tables, measuring more than 10 feet in total length and near four feet in width. A long, red table cloth is laid across the surface, easily covering the long distance with material to drape over the edges to spare. Intricate scrolling and cross-stitching are set with gold thread into the red fabric, bringing to it a brilliance to fabric, and the table for the meal to be laid.
sounds come from behind the door that leads in back, to the kitchens and further down, the bathing rooms. The activity of setting the long table forces the maids to pass through this door, and with it wafts the smells of food, of pastry and meats, of vegetables and fruits. The door swings silently as the maids glide through the door, feet moving with practiced ease while carrying various objects. Silverware, brightened and reflective, from knives and spoons, to forks and matching chalices are retrieved from storage found beyond this door. White porcelain plates, bowls, platters, flashes of gold and bold blue paintings catch the eye momentarily as the dishware is laid out.
Go Yeda. Follow young Emerla there. She knows where to find the good napkins. Emerla! The candelabras as well! bethana commands, bringing another round to Corrin, Loxley and Zeldana sitting off to the side, out of the way of the fuss.
the distant sounds of bowls and wooden spoons banging against each other drifts lazily through the air from the kitchens beyond. Bethana glowers, and groans out loud She needs to stop and get dressed. lifting the hem of her dress from her feet, her small legs move her across floor, as a ship would cut through the water it moves through.
Mistress! you must get dressed! any time now they will arrive! Yes yes! Porla and Porli will both finish up. Come! let me help you! Just! Just put that down! No it doesnt- My Lady, Please!. Whatever else was said or spoken of, you're not sure, but moments later catch, when the door swings open, a very determined Bethana pulls hard on Ameiko's left arm as the owner of the building drags her feet But the salad! it needs a sprig of mint!
that's enough out of you, Lady! i won't allow you to - whatever else was said is lost as the door closes once more.
Emerla, the young maiden whom Zeldana and Corrin had met with not three hours before, comes walking out, her arms full with napkins, while a laden Yeda walks out, her hands clad in white gloves; she holds three silver with gold inlaid candelabras.
Equidistant please, Miss Yeda Emerla says in a respectful tone, her voice soft, compared to the sternness found with Bethana. One feels compelled to compare Emerla's voice as that of a content cat resting in a window sill with the sunlight warming it's body, while Bethana's is similar to that of a nail meeting a hammer at the moment of impact. Perfect the maiden says sweetly to Yeda. Now, if you'd please, grab the candles from the back? the dark yellow ones? those burn the brightest. Again, if you please she asks very politely as she sits at the table. Her hands move deftly, practiced ease from experience, she folds and teases the napkins into a fanfold shape. She places each one atop the placement for each noble, 11 in total.
Food is brought out, the succulent reward of your effort is placed upon the table, held within the bowls and upon the platters of porcelain. A large roast, a vegetable medley, the cake, all of it is brought out (along with the fruit salad with the sprig of mint!).
The smells grow more intense with the food brought out, wafting their delicious odor into the room, forcing a small growl to come from Corrins stomach. Porli, or Porla (it is hard to tell the two apart.), lays out a couple hunks of wood in the common room's central fireplace, and tosses several shavings of something onto the fire. They smolder in the fire, and a pungent smoke begins to intermix with the food smells. Sage, jasmine, other herbs, slowly burn, providing another subtle layer of nasal complexity for the enjoyment of anyone who will walk into the room.
Oh! Very nice! Bethana’s voice cuts into your thoughts. This, this looks very nice! Bethana nods with approval while she examines the layout. Oh beautiful! The candles as well! Oh who thought of them? Emerla! Excellent choice my dear. Very excellent. Yes. Yes. Ok ladies, and Emerla, please go get changed! Bethana walks slowly around the table, and into view. Before, she wore a simple maids uniform of a gray dress with a dull white apron. Now, the halfling that steps around the table you see is wearing a silk gray dress with brilliant pink seams. Upon her narrow hips rests an apron half the size that she’d normally wear. Her face, before there was a smudge of grease or grime upon her cheek, now it was cleaned off, and her pale skin shone brilliantly! Around her eyes she wore dark shadow, enhancing the almond shape. A blink of the eye reveals a matching pink shade upon her eyelids equal to the color of the seams upon her dress. Her cheeks have a hint of rouge, and her lips pop, painted a bright cherry red. Two large gold hoop earrings dangle from her now revealed slightly pointed ears. Her hair, faded and dull before, now glistens with a freshly washed and revealed luster, held upon the top of her head with a jeweled silver comb. As she passes the table, her eyes glance over at Loxley for a moment, and a smile parts her lips for a moment before she continues her examination.
Ok. The Mistress is almost finished getting ready. She insisted on wearing that dress. Why she likes it, i have no idea. Reveals too much skin, if you ask me. But the Lady insists. Ack! I prattle. Yes, the Mistress did tell me to inform you that-
The door to the front of the Inn slams open, drawing your gaze to it. A figure stands silhouetted in the door frame, narrow to the point of wiry. It takes your eyes moments to adjust to the brightness of the lingering sunlight outside, yet heartbeats only pass and you are able to pick out the man standing there.
Ah! Bethana yelps in surprise and shock. Ah. Master Valdemar. Welcome to the Rusty Dragon Inn. Please, come in and join us.
THe man walks into the Inn, and the smell of fresh cut wood, of sawdust, the fragrance that is a forest fills your nose, obliterating anything that you could smell before. It is as if the man took a bath in the freshest of cuts of lumber. His clothes are simple, a white cotton shirt, black trousers with a red band running down the seam. A brown leather cord, wrapped three times around his waist, holds a long sheath with a simple brass pommel on one hip. On the other, a small leather pouch, a simple button holding the top flap closed. The man’s face is similar to his clothing, simplistic in look. Shaved jawline, with hair closed shaved to his scalp as well. His eyebrows are another thing entirely. Long and bushy, the hair grows thick upon his brow, as two large caterpillars crawled onto his face and settled in. His breaks open into a wide grin, teeth flashing brightly.
dear Bethana. How is my favorite little lady? he chuckles loudly before stepping into the room and dropping to one knee in front of Bethana. He wraps his arms around the diminutive woman, hugging her deeply. You can see plain upon her face a warm smile as she returns the gesture. After a pause, he lets go of the embrace and returns to his feet.
I used to be his nanny, when he was smaller than me Bethana chuckles, gliding a fingertip underneath a shadowed eye. ach, silly me. Where are my manners? Master Valdemar, please allow me the opportunity to introduce the Heroes of Sandpoint. Corrin Whisperwind, Loxley Geralt, and the young miss Zeldana Dardlara Amaria of our own Sandpoint. Everyone, This is Belven Valdemar, son of Lord Ethram Valdemar of Sandpoint, One of the Founding members of Sandpoint, Lord mercantile of Sandpoint.
Zeldana stood to greet the guests, giving a graceful nod. "Actually, it is Zeldana Emraeal Luminita Dardlara Anca Nordlara Amaria..." Zeldana said with a small blush of embarrassment. "But of course you can just call me Zel as everyone else does."
Loxley could only nod and give a weak smile at Zel’s comment as she sipped her drink.
She soon lost her thoughts as she watched Bethana ordering around Yeda and the staff of the Rusty Dragon. It was amusing to watch the dining room slowly transform under the direction of the smaller woman.
And watching her strong arm Miss Ameiko into getting changed, one might begin to wonder who was truly in charge of the inn.
Loxley sipped her drink as Yeda and Emerla set the table. She was smiling and chuckling along side Corrin and Zeldana when Bethana’s voice reappeared. She glanced over and saw the halfling’s head as the woman checked the table. Her glass though, froze at her lips as Bethana turned the corner and came into view.
Loxley could not seem to pull her eyes from the other woman. It wasn’t until the bar matron turned her gaze on her that Loxley felt the heat in her cheeks and quickly fumbled to continue the sip she had been in the process of taking.
Suddenly the front door opened violently and a slender man stepped in. Thankful for the distraction Loxley eyed the figure until Bethana exclaimed in delight. As he approaches, she gets a better look in the light of the inn.
His nanny? The image it conjured was unbidden, but adorable. Though it did indicate that the halfling was older than Loxley had originally guessed. Not that she minded, but.. nanny and barmaid, perhaps Loxley really had read too much into the woman’s intentions. Perhaps she was simply being kind and caring, and Loxley was simply too long without ‘company’ that she was deluding herself.
It wasn’t the time to dwell on such matters though and Loxley smiled politely, nodding as she was introduced with the others.
”A pleasure.”
Yeda looks at the candelabra she's been asked to bring in with genuine confusion.
What is the point of these? Why the gloves, I'm not a were-creature! I can touch silver!
As the orders continue her patience gets shorter and shorter. It's not until the food smells start to fill the room that she settles down. She sniffs in the air visibly.
Surely that is all these nobles should care about amongst this complicated arrangement.
She certainly loses her voice when the first noble walks through the door. Her eyes dart around the room as she plans her escape...
Emerla clucks her tongue and replies as if explaining to a child The reason we wear gloves is to keep our fingerprints off of the silverware. I just spent 30 minutes polishing to that sheen. Id really wouldnt like it if you marred the surface. Miss. she finishes with a sweet smile.
Belvan listens politely to Bethana make introductions. He steps forward and lifts Zel's hand up, his lips briefly catching the top of her hand. I have heard of you, Zeldana Emraeal Luminita Dardlara Anca Nordlara Amaria, of Sandpoint proper. Your bravery in facing down the goblins not last week, along with your discovery of Lord Kaijitsu in his own factory, plus bringing in Nualia. Such a pity that Jorn has managed to find this rose amongst the field of wildflowers before i could... he lowers her hand gently before stepping to Loxley.
No no! the pleasure is all mine. he grasps Loxleys hand and brings it to his lips. If i provide Dear Zel with such a compliment, you must forgive me for i cannot compliment you as i did with her, for it would be an insult for the wealth of beauty you hold in reserve.
He winks at loxley, nods once more to Zel, and then steps past the two.
And you must be Corrin, the wildling from the far forests of the Varisian reaches. I must say, you clean up well for an elf. And that sash! I must commend you on a fine catch. did you tan it yourself? Or perhaps something else i am forgetting? Ah!
BEthana slaps him hard in the thigh. Mind your manners. she glares at him.
Ah, yes. of course, dear. he mummers as an apology.
Finally, he looks at Yeda. Oh ho! and who is this? Yes, i recognize you from the way he speaks of you. Yeda, right?
I am...
As her voice trails off in confusion, she doesn't even acknowledge the mysterious reference to someone else and instead returns to him a confused, foul look as if he broke wind.
Pardon, I have separate duties.
She looks away and begins to slowly shuffle to the side of the room and out of primary focus.
A stout warrioress. No wonder he pines for you these last few days. An utter mess youve made him. Odd though, what duties would you have that takes you away from tonights dinner? Belvan waves his hand as if in dismissal, already focusing upon the table and the inn.
He blinked at this sauve man whom walked up like he owned the place and felt instantly less and small...until he was insulted.
I clean up well for an elf?
He began his voice holdin a tinge of ire to it. Only the fact that he was once Bethana's ward kept him from telling this human where he could stick his hubris. Instead he merely nodded, sliding closer to zel and loxley and offered the man a nod.