You do not get the feeling that Estelle is in cahoots. She seems genuinely surprised with the existence of this room.
Estelle looks towards the maps now, walking beside Raphael. She touches one of the pins. “Even as an oracle, Caroline is too young for such a project. Beatrice is only eighteen, do you think she is capable of such an act?” She reaches her hand out, touching one of the pins, and tracing the lines to other pins with her eyes. Maybe twenty or thirty strings are tied to it. “Gods, I think this is me.” She strums them gently like a harp, though no sound plays. Her face is some mix of appreciation and bewilderment.
Caroline weighs Halcyon’s words in her mind. She too looks down towards her tea glass, almost empty, leaves beginning to stick to the sides of the cup. “The flag probably refers to a nation, though I am unsure which one. The bird looked like...” she continues to think, at a loss for words. “An eagle maybe? It didn’t seem like a crow or a raven, it seemed almost proud. I don’t know...” she trails off, looking towards her other divining tools for a moment. “It all seemed off. Too clear for my normal readings.”
Halcyon gives Lucia a look for their departure, and Caroline gives them a weak smile. “I will try to make my way down. Maybe I will try to give another reading, perhaps try one of my decks once more.” She bows politely. “But I will brave the crowd to see you before you leave.” She makes a smile to Lucia, and bows to her as well. "I'll clean the tea cups. Thank you both for your company."
Ernest lets out a hearty laugh. “Ya have it all confused, Silverstone. I mention ya sister just for the intro. Your family is legendary amongst crafters and dwarves alike, it is my honor and obligation to meet any Silverstone.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a large though weathered book. He opens it, turning its pages towards the end. “Ya father helped me write this one,” he looks up, eyes solemn, and he speaks genuinely, “rest his soul, greatest man I have ever met.” He reveals the page, intricate drawings of constructs and men. Incantations, descriptions, processes to create some sort of hollow construct. “I owe your family a debt.” The man and the woman by the bookshelves continue to whisper between them, filling the gaps of silence between Ernest and Valentina. The man chuckles slightly, and you notice him crack a wry smile.
Valentina's eyes dart towards the whispering couple in the corner, and then immediately dart back to Ernest - she's curious as to what they're saying, but she doesn't want to give the impression that she's not listening to him. She is - sort of - but she's training her ears on them.
When mention of a debt comes up, though, she refocuses on him. She looks down at the dwarf, and his book, and she tilts her head in confusion. "Should we be talking in private, Mister Stoneheart?"
Tomas seems excited to see the conversation shift towards Tizonian honey, almost strangely so. His bouquet rests in his hand, his other dancing to his words, a sort of expressive sign language. “You have captured it so well, Marcus! So few men recognize the difference.” A small click is heard from the southern door.
Words speak from the south, a woman’s voice: “You may enter, I am done painting."
Human Man: “... he will be quite the challenge…,” you miss the last part.
You miss how she starts but the Half-Elf Woman closes her sentence with “... even with blonde hair?”
Human Man, smiling and with a chuckle: “ Voters only care about... “
The rest is lost as you try to pay attention to Ernest.
Ernest closes the book, returning it to his leather bag. He folds his robes over the straps, putting it mostly out of sight. “If ya like, ma’am. I owe favors to ya father, and now seems to be the time to start payin’ him back. But open business is fine by me.” He turns his head towards the two chatting individuals. Giving them a quick size up before returning his eyes towards Valentina. She speaks hushed now, at a more appropriate level for a study.“They don’t seem interested in this kind of talk. Maybe we can sit though. Your height be straining my neck something awful.”
Also, can I have physical descriptions of them again? Is either of them blonde?
Valentina nods, her eyebrows curling seriously as she thinks about everything she's hearing. Voters? Blonde? I'll have to speak to Raphael about this.
She directs Ernest to a comfortable-looking armchair nearby (but farther away from the talking couple) and sits across from him, crossing her ankles and leaning forward. She places her elbow on her knee and her chin on the back of her hand, interestedly leaning into Ernest. She speaks softly, so that he has to lean forward to hear and so that none can hear. "What do you mean when you say you owe favors to my father?" she asks, "What exactly did he do for you?"
In the front foyer, Emile puts up a finger, a gesture to wait a moment. His finishes swallowing his wine, and places his finger down. “Oh I assure you desert will be divine, ten minutes at its most. Salvador is one of the best chefs I have ever met.” He places his glass down on a table, and nods his head towards the stairs. “I think I saw Lucia upstairs with Halcyon, they went into the western staircase room if I recall. They seemed to be having quite the connection, perhaps a friendship blooms at this party?” He winks playfully and smiles.
"I cannot wait to put your chef's deserts to the test." Seth smiles, and begins heading towards the stairs towards the Upper Vestibule. As he walks, he turns around for a moment. "Thank you for the assistance." Seth then walks up the stairs into the Upper Vestibule, with Alistair following along.
"It was quite the pleasure to meet you. And thank you for the tea even though I did not have any." Lucia walks towards the door and opens it awaiting Halcyon to come. As Lucia holds the door open she gives Caroline a reassuring smile. "If it means anything to you Caroline, I have faith that you will come to control your abilities and understand them better." Lucia continues to smile as she leaves and gives a slight wave before they leave the room.
"I believe this pin represents me as well." Raphael points out the pin on his office before continuing, "I suppose you're right, it seems that Emile has had us all fooled. Impressive work to have done so. It seems that his family's flagging fortune is of concern to our host. I wonder what his plans to power are. We' should leave now, as I'm sure he'd have a guard on this kind of trove of information. As a matter of fact..." Raphael chants a prayer and casts detect magic. He studies the room hurriedly before gesturing towards the door, "Shall we be off?"
On her way out, Halcyon says, "Whether at the party tonight or at my office, I look forward to spending more time with you. Visions are like a thick forest. At first, every tree looks the same and it's so easy to get lost. But the more time you spend with your insights, the more you will recognize and eventually, you can find your way in the forest as well as your own home. Be patient with yourself and don't let anyone push you too far too fast."
Once back in the hall, Halcyon suggests they go back to the first floor to see if desert is being served. "I hope they have something sweet and rich. I've been starving myself this past week to be sure I can fit into this dress."
"Then I hope you will have room for it." Lucia says giving off a small laugh at the end. Lucia guides Halcyon towards the stairs they took up, and then down the stairs into the staircase room.
Ernest sits across from Valentina, stretching his neck as he sits. “Where to even start...” He cocks his head backward into the chair, delving back to a far off time. “Indirectly, I ‘spose his creations are what drew me away from making cheap animated trinkets. More importantly, yer father helped me hone my craft. Dozen o’ my theories and formulae and processes come from debates and butting heads with yer ol’ man. Headmaster of Magical Crafts at the Society is a title I owe the Silverstones.”
Estelle gives Raphael a small nod, and the two of them exit the room.
Estelle looks back into the room as Raphael closes the door. “Maybe opening closed doors isn't the most guest-like party activity” The two of them stand for a bit, surrounded by objects covered in the de Beaux crest. “Exciting though,” Estelle starts, offering a smile to Raphael. “I kept expecting us to turn around and he would be covering the door.” She laughs weakly. “Where to next?”
Halcyon and Lucia make their way to the second floor, this time hearing conversation from the staircase room. As they make their way down the stais, they spy three Galatians, two of which chat around a small table. The woman, Abigal, speaks to Aron with her back to the stairs. Her bodyguard is opposite her, and watches the two women descend the staircase. He lowers his head when he sees Halcyon, and lets go of his weapon, instead crossing his arms.
“... Well, it won’t be much of a choice if the King demands it. I am trying to look out for you Aron. Act serious for tonight, try to - ”
“Excuse me.” Eduard rises, cutting off Abigal. She looks confused and watches him. He walks over to the staircase, greeting Halcyon and Lucia before they reach the bottom with a low bow. “Miss d’Orsay,” he starts, his head still aimed towards the floor, “please forgive my transgression. It was wrong of me to assume the worst, and to misidentify your spell is a fault that belongs to me. Find it in yourself to blame me for my actions, and not Miss Bolton.” He keeps his bow.
Emile gives Seth a small smile. “Hope you find her, people have gone missing here before.” Perhaps he meant to deliver it with as a joke, or perhaps the wine is affecting his throat, but the statement comes off dry and witless. He quickly adds a cheery "a joke of course," realizing himself how he sounded. Seth walks upstairs, Alistair close in tow. Alistair holds onto the railing as he walks up, perhaps having a bit too much wine at the bar. As you reach the second floor, you hear something from Emile below. He leaves the foyer, heading towards the lower vestibule.
There is no one in the upper vestibule. You hear people talking in the adjacent room, a woman at first, who is interrupted and replaced by the deep voice of a man. From an eastern room, you hear a harp. In the distance, you hear some upbeat music, discordant with the harp playing from the room beside you.
The door swings open to the room south of the plant room. A young woman, perhaps no older than twenty opens the door. Her hair is brown and long, tied up in the back. Her face and arms are covered in all colors of paints. Her dress, at one point a soft brown, has become a painting itself, swirled with beautiful colors of lavender and sunset oranges. Her face is rosy, and her eyes are an orange-brown.
The room seems to be an artist’s studio of sorts, and a large one at that. Many projects seem to be going on currently, across half a dozen of mediums. A slab of marble is chipped away to resemble a human shape. A series of paint buckets and dozens of paint brushes lie near a wall, contributing to an ongoing landscape painting, perhaps eight by fourteen feet. While canvas cloth covers most of the floor, none of them are white anymore, and paints have long since dried on the wood of the floor, on the walls of the room and even on the ceiling. A clockwork box emanates sound in the corner of the room, some sort of technology designed to play music.
A young man stands in the room, inspecting a small portrait. It resembles him: than and handsome both in person and portrait. Gorgeous even. His hair is silver, and flows a to his neck. His eyes are dark, surrounded with a violet eyeshadow, but accented metallic silver underneath. His outfit is loose and white, and cuts sharply down his chest. He turns to the woman. “Either you flatter me, or what I hear about my looks is absolutely true. The painting is stunning, Triss.”
The woman rolls her eyes, but smiles at the complement. “Welcome to the studio, I am sure Emile would have wanted me to open it earlier.” She gives a small curtsey, revealing more colors in the folds of her dress. "Beatrice de Beaux, charmed."
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"Exciting indeed. It seems like something from the plot of a political novella. I suppose there are worse things then to be the character in one of those silver penny pieces." Raphael gestures towards the far door with a smile, "Shall we have a look at the other side of this floor? Do we need to check on Mademoiselle Agnes before we continue?"
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“Excuse me.” Eduard rises, cutting off Abigal. She looks confused and watches him. He walks over to the staircase, greeting Halcyon and Lucia before they reach the bottom with a low bow. “Miss d’Orsay,” he starts, his head still aimed towards the floor, “please forgive my transgression. It was wrong of me to assume the worst, and to misidentify your spell is a fault that belongs to me. Find it in yourself to blame me for my actions, and not Miss Bolton.” He keeps his bow.
Halcyon hesitates a moment before finding her words. "Of course, I forgive you. But only if you forgive me for my rash assumption of the worst based on a premonition. I have already apologized to our host and I want also to apologize to Ambassador Bolton and Monsieur Carlisle for any embarrassment or false alarm I have caused."
She reaches forward and nudges Eduard's shoulder to indicate she does not want him holding his bow for her. "Far from being offended, I was impressed with your willingness to risk your life for your comrade. The ambassador and Monsieur Carlisle are fortunate to have such a brave defender. If I may modify a proverb slightly, 'It is better to assume the worst and be thought a fool than to fail to act when needed and remove all doubt.' I would only add that while my fear that the tobacco was poisoned was false, I sense there is yet some danger that threatens. If you would like, I can do a harrow reading and perhaps identify the threat more accurately." She hands a business card to Eduard.
"I have interrupted your conversation. Allow me to go so that you may continue your discussion." Halcyon makes to continue down the staircase, although slowly, in case Abigail wants to speak to her.
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Marcus bows with a slight flurish, proclaiming "Marcus Tamarain, at your service, I must say your work is beautiful, the way you blend the pigments here and here, but keep such sharp lines here, masterfully done, though I suppose it helps when you have a source material such as this" he says with a chuckle. "I don't suppose I could commission a landscape or two sometime later?
"I should have asked which room was the staircase room before we came up here." Seth looks around the Upper Vestibule. "Perhaps we should wait here until she comes down. I would prefer not to walk into a room to have her walk into the Vestibule as we leave." Seth strolls towards one the walls and leans up against it. "Unless you know which room is the staircase room?"
Estelle begins to walk away from Emile’s office room, closer to the vestibule door. She listens a while to the melodic strumming of the nearby servant in the adjacent room. “I believe the harpist will watch over Agatha. I am sure she will be fine after her nap, we shall wake her before the New Year.” She stretches her arm out, sliding a finger on an engraved shield, turning to face Raphael. “Our political novella needs more intrigue, don't you agree? Perhaps some more character development for us protagonists.” She grins, and waits by the western door. "Or maybe I am too quick to assume we are the heroes."
The silver haired man and Beatrice de Beaux both give a flattered chuckle upon Marcus’ introduction. Beatrice’s eyes light up at the mention of a commission, and her hair bounces enthusiastically as she talks. “Of course, my studio is always open for business.” The silver haired man begins to walk towards the entrance, closer to the conversation, but his attention lingers back on his portrait. Beatrice continues: “Lovely to meet you, Marcus. Perhaps we should talk more on these paintings you desire. I am sure I can make something enchanting for you.”
In the plant room behind Marcus, Tomas and Nishara spark up conversation once more. Tomas intends to determine her occupation it seems.
Eduard rises from his bow, nodding to Halcyon and offering a quiet thank you to her. Abigal speaks, turning towards Halcyon and Lucia. “Worry not about our conversation, it was just ending.” She gets up from her seat and leaves the table, lightly walking towards the staircase. Eduard steps back to the wall as she approaches, leaving a space between the sorceress and the oracle. “I was afraid you had left,” Abigal starts again, worry in her voice. “First impressions are usually my strong suit. Let us start on the right foot, Miss d’Orsay.” Aron remains seated, adopting a more relaxed pose. His mind seems elsewhere.
“Oh yes!” Alistair exclaims excitedly. He walks ahead of Seth, turning back towards him and the stairs they came from. “There are two staircase rooms, left and right.” He gestures towards two opposite doors at his sides. A woman speaks softly from door on Seth’s left, a harp playing from the right. Alistair holds his arms out, mimicking a scale of sorts, weighing each option as he tilts his head with his arms. He chuckles lightly to himself.
“If my eyes don’t fail me,” he pauses, dropping the scale schtick, “and they never do mind you, there is a group gathering to your left, and a single person in the righter room.” Alistair holds a second, looking southeast towards a somewhat open door. “And two people in that room. Or two people with magic items at least. Could be a hundred men all dressed mundane and I wouldn’t know better.”
"I would love to learn more about you and your visit to Roland."
Before Abigail can speak, Halcyon remembers her manners and says, "Forgive me, but this is my newest friend, Lucia Variana. Lucia, this is Ambassador Abigail Bolton, Eduard--is that right?-- and Monsieur Aron Carlisle. I hope I remember names correctly. Since we were introduced I have been ... distracted." Halcyon blushes slightly.
She then adds, "Those are the ones my ears tell me are present, anyway."
Lucia curtsies when Halcyon introduces her. "It is quite nice to meet all of you." Lucia waits to see if Halcyon wants to see continue down the stairs.
** spoiler omitted **
Ernest sits across from Valentina, stretching his neck as he sits. “Where to even start...” He cocks his head backward into the chair, delving back to a far off time. “Indirectly, I ‘spose his creations are what drew me away from making cheap animated trinkets. More importantly, yer father helped me hone my craft. Dozen o’ my theories and formulae and processes come from debates and butting heads with yer ol’ man. Headmaster of Magical Crafts at the Society is a title I owe the Silverstones.”
"That was a good, concise explanation." says Valentina, cracking a small smile. "I had no idea my father had such a close relationship with you, although it doesn't surprise me at all that you looked up to him so much."
She resists the urge to scratch her chin. She must be the image of grace. "He was a brilliant man." she says.
She raises an eyebrow, cocking one of her cheeks in his direction. "How could you...repay a debt for an idea? Surely you didn't come here to hand over a sack of patent gold, it wouldn't require a conversation or anything."
"I do not know if Halcyon has any magical items on her, but I believe our best bet is with the group in the room to your left." Seth motions towards the western staircase room. Seth moves from the wall he was leaning on and walks towards the western staircase room. As Seth gets to the door and grabs the doorknob. "Let us see if your eyes didn't fail you." Seth waits for Alistair before opening the door and motioning for Alistair to go first.
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Marcus nods saying "I was thinking of adding a few paintings to my bar to spruce up the place, classic paintings, maybe one with a mountain sceen, another with a sunset, another with a party of adventurers standing victoriously over a dragon's body, with treasure all around. That sort of thing, I'm not sure how many I'm wanting right now, I guess it depends in part on how much they cost
In the library, Ernest seems to ponder the idea. “Huh. I ‘spose a letter and gold woulda been one way, though doesn’t quite do for ya what he did fer me.” Ernest sniffles slightly. “Dun’ get me wrong, if gold is what the family needs, I’ll pay the respects that way. I want ta lift the business in the same way yer father brought up mine. My thought was some of the Stoneheart crafters create things fer yer workshop. Or maybe I can get ya the exposure to get clients ta remember which family makes the best contraptions. I can even take a formal apprentice in the wee Silverstone.” He combs through his beard. “If ya like, of course. We can take this in yer terms, a man with a debt shouldn't make the conditions for repaying it I ‘spose.
Aron, still leaning back in his chair, limply waves his arms towards Halcyon and Lucia. “A pleasure, a pleasure.” Abigal turns his way, and while Halcyon and Lucia can’t see her face, she seems to have Aron’s attention. He straightens up in his chair. “Miss Varianna, Miss d’Orsay, it my a pleasure.”
“You got the names perfect, thank you. Wonderful to meet you Lucia. Come, sit, we can chat.” Abigal gestures towards the table and looks to Eduard. “Grab a chair from the corner for the ladies, won’t you Eduard? Do either of you need anything, Eduard can check on desert or grab tea if you like.“ Eduard goes to a large armchair, picking it up with relative ease, bringing it towards the table that Aron sits by.
“I’ll stand, thank you. Please,” he drops the seat, pushing it towards the small table, “sit, relax.”
Abigal begins to retreat from the staircase. She walks over to her chair, choosing to stand at its back, waiting for Halcyon and Lucia to sit. “About me, you said? I am not sure where to begin. First of three children of Korbin Bolton, Duke of Arondight. I began training as a sorceress and a diplomat at the age of eight. At thirteen,” she looks towards Eduard, and smiles, “I was given my Guardian. His Majesty himself performed the ceremony rites. At sixteen, an Assistant Advisor to a member of Parliament. Then at twenty, I was anointed as Ambassador by His Majesty.”
The eastern door to the room opens. A somewhat unkempt man, dressed in robes of dark leather and black feathers. He scans the crowd quickly, his head passing the Galatians, instead looking to the two women at the staircase. He takes a couple steps into the room, his gaze now looking back towards a man who follows him inside.
Quietly, but loudly enough to be heard in the silence of Abigal, Alistair speaks to Seth, who trails inside behind the witch. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Seth, but I now realize I have no idea who your wife is.” He looks once more at the three women in the room, studying each of them quickly. “OH! No magic! I found her.” He chuckles to himself, moving closer to the center of the room.
Beatrice smiles, and begins to walk into the studio room, her head to Marcus as she walks. “A bar, how charming! Emile does the numbers, even if he may not look the part. I certainly could make something that I am sure your patrons would love, even if it is only a single painting.”
Darius meets them halfway. “Is it too late to reserve a painting? If this fellow is getting one then I need to match him.” He walks to Marcus, extending a pale arm, speckled with small splashes of paint. “Darius Agnes. Of the Agnes Mining company. If you ever have a need for silver, my family owns almost all of it.” He returns his look to his painting before turning to Beatrice. “Your art is otherworldly, Triss. Your paintings will fill the Agnes estate.”
Beatrice looks pleased with the current situation, but sighs. “Gods, that was a scribble, Darius. A fifteen minute figure drawing.” She faces Marcus. “But I can make you a masterpiece if you like.”
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Halcyon accepts the offer of a seat, striding slowly in the direction of the sound of the chair as it is set down until her shins nudge against it. To the offer of food and drink, she says, "I just had some tea upstairs. Desert would be nice, but no hurry."
Halcyon listens attentively to Abigail's list of accomplishments. Alistair's interruption annoys her, and she's about to tell him to leave when she realizes Seth is with him. She bites her tongue and trusts Seth to sort things out.
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Beatrice smiles, and begins to walk into the studio room, her head to Marcus as she walks. “A bar, how charming! Emile does the numbers, even if he may not look the part. I certainly could make something that I am sure your patrons would love, even if it is only a single painting.”
"yes I am owner and proprietor of The Tall Tale Inn, lovely little place, the food is good, the company is excelent and the drinks are ever flowing, I own other property, but the tavern is my pride, it is through that building that I can help bring joy to people, which really is in my opinion the greatest use of our Intelegince, that of maximizing joy, and minimizing pain" he pauses after that and listens to them banter, amuse at the anticts, the two were likely close.
He gladly accepts the offered hand and introduces himself "Marcus Tamarain, owner of The Tall Tail Inn and some other less interesting affiliated property, my sister was around here earlier, but I don't know where she's run off to, she might have gone on home,"When the offer of a painting was repeated he gladly accepts saying "certianly, if you wouldn't mind , I'd like to have the one with the party of adventurers, standing victorious over some mighty dragon, I'm thinking a group of four, maybe a paladin, a priest a thief, and a sorcerer, perhaps two humans, an elf of half elf and a kitsune for variety's sake"
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Seth enters the room behind Alistair as he makes his comment about finding Seth's wife. "Just because one of them, doesn't mean it is her." Seth scans the room quickly, to find Lucia next to Halcyon. "In this case however we got lucky."
Seth begins walking towards Lucia before stopping for a moment realizing that they might have barged in. "I apologize if we interrupted anything. I was just looking for my wife, and Alistair here wanted to meet her." Seth motions his arm towards Alistair. "I hope you do not mind out intrusion, we can leave if you wish."
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Lucia follows Halcyon towards the chair set down for her, and stands behind her chair. She listens to Abigail and Halcyon speak and puts a slight smile on her face. At least I can follow this conversation. Lucia listens intently to Abigail talking about how she became ambassador.
When Alistair walks into the room, she pays no mind to him. When he mentions Seth's name, she turns towards the door to see Seth walk in. She can't help but smile as Seth tries to fix the now awkward situation.
Raphael nods his assent, "That sounds acceptable to me." Raphael follows Estelle to the door languidly. He returns her grin and nods, "I daresay a little more intrigue shouldn't hurt. And character development is always good for building attachment. As for villainy, well dear lady, surely neither of us possesses a blackguard's heart among us. Unless I'm simply a very clever villain hiding myself away lest the heroic damsel foil my plans." Mischievously grinning, Raphael offers his arm to Estelle and gestures out the opened door. "So which shall it be my lady, am I the heroic lawyer meeting a friend and ally? Or am I perhaps the villainous lawyer whose blackened soul the heroine may yet save?"
Estelle takes Raphael’s arm cheerfully. “And here I wanted to play the villain. After a fifteen year facade of helping those in need, tonight I was to show my true colors.” The two of them walk west, toward a room with less de Beaux on the walls. They arrive at the upper vestibule, walking in just as two men walks out towards the western staircase room. Raphael only sees the back of the leading man’s head as he walks into the room, but recognizes Seth before he enters.
“Let us both be the heroes now. Gods know this city has enough villains. Where to?” From the floor below, a wonderful aroma ascends. Pastries of some sort it seems, something sweet you would imagine. "That smell is divine, I hope desert is ready soon."
Aron tries not to giggle at the scene. From a southern room, a laughter is heard. Aron tries to hide his smile at first, failing to do so properly. He erupts in small laughter, echoing that from the other room. “Oh, no intrusion at all.” He gets up from his seat, beckoning towards Alistair to take his seat. Alistair obliges.
“Alistair was it? I am Aron Carlisle, trade negotiator between our countries. And this,” he beckons towards Lucia, the woman standing behind an opposite chair, “Is Lucia Varianna, the woman you look for.” He gestures now to the rest of the people in the room, bouncing his finger on each individual as he introduces them. “Abigal Bolton, 37th heir to the Galatian throne, her bodyguard Eduard, and Halcyon d’Orsay, oracle extraordinaire.” Seth follows Aron, giving a nod to each person as they are introduced. He seems to be rather focused, perhaps taking in all the new names and faces. Aron gives a little wink to Abigal, and she shakes her head with a small smile.