“You hardly interfere, Mr. Varianna. Introductions are a play. It is wonderful to meet you. Aron covered the basics, but I am Abigal Bolton, ambassador between Durendal and Galatine.” Her face twitches, frozen for a moment in a strange contortion. She breaks it with a dainty sneeze. Abigal recovers with a kind smile, and invites Seth closer to the conversation.
“Eduard, another chair if you will.” Eduard bows, and again grabs a chair, bringing it over to the table. It is beginning to get rather crowded around this small table.
In the studio, something catches Beatrice’s interest. “A Kitsune? I don’t believe I have had the pleasure of actually ever seeing one. Mother used to read me children stories about them.” She smiles, blushing a little bit. “I actually thought they were creatures of folklore up until a year or two ago. Same with ifrits actually until I met the Colonel at one of Em’s social gatherings a few months ago.”
Darius laughs heartily. From a northern room, another laugh echoes, more high pitched. It doesn’t seem to come from Nishara or Tomas. “I used to think Fey were just in fairy tales.” He scratches the back of his neck, thinking a moment. “Well, I guess they are fairy tales if you think about it, but you get the idea. Don’t hear of them too often besides the ones in Murgleis. But I like the Kitsune idea, adds something exotic.”
10:29 PM. 1 hour and 31 minutes until the New Year.
As the room settles, Halcyon says to Seth, "Thank you for letting me enjoy the company of your wife. She's been gracious enough to guide me on a tour of the house."
To Abigail she says, "Do the Galatians have any special traditions for New Year's eve?"
Seth takes the seat Eduard brought over, feeling obligated to use it. "It is quite nice to meet both of you. I should give a proper introduction for myself. I am Seth Varianna, mercenary by trade. And you have already met my wife, Lucia." As Seth finishes he coughes a little to clear his throat. Seth changes his focus from Abigail Bolton to Halcyon as she finishes speaking. "I'm sure she had just as much fun as you did exploring the home of our host."
As Seth goes to sit down, Lucia leaves Halcyon's side and moves towards Seth. As he speaks she sits on the arm of the chair as Seth's arm stabilizes her on the chair. "It was quite the pleasure to be able to see some more of this wonderful home. I hope than we can do something like this again Halycon." Lucia lets out a light smile as she finishes speaking.
Raphael chuckles, then cocks his head as a thought occurs to him. That was surely not serious? Perhaps the drink is going to my head... Escorting Estelle from the room, Raphael makes note as Seth enters the western staircase room. He nods in reply to Estelle, "On this we can be agreed. The city needs heroes far more then it needs villains. You know, there is something to be said for a villain." Raphael returns any incredulous look with a serious one of his own. "Honestly, consider it. There is very little that motivates a populace like an enemy that's easy to despise. Perhaps that's what we need. A good villain for we heroic two to vanquish. Sadly, I fear that we would make too fearsome a pair for any villain to show his face anywhere near Roland." Suppressing a laugh at his own quips, Raphael sniffs as the wafting aroma of dessert rises up to him. "Divine is perfectly apt. Shall we go and investigate? Perhaps the dessert that Emile has prepared is a particularly diabolical pie. I for one should be happy to defeat such a foe." Grinning widely, he gestures towards the staircase and the lower levels.
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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.
Valentina resists, strongly, the urge to appear honored and happy about it. Carefully, she begins to speak. "You are very generous to offer such things, especially out of the blue like this." She thinks for a further few seconds. "I admit that I'm quite short on employees for the moment. My father's lessons are translating well, so I end up creating most of the things we sell by myself. A few Stoneheart crafters to take the pressure off of me and let me get out into the social scene would be quite appreciated."
She smiles at Mr. Stoneheart. "Thank you for bringing this up to me, but perhaps a party isn't the perfect place to talk business? We can find each other in one of our offices on a day soon. I'm afraid that I haven't done much socializing today."
In the studio, Beatrice nods her head in agreement. “I sometimes dreamt about being born in a life of adventure. What a charming lifestyle it would be.” She studies Marcus for a second, almost analyzing him. “You must be around all sorts of colorful figures. A bar must charm those sort of characters.”
Again she analyzes and shifts her weight to one of her legs. Her tone changes, less whimsical and more pressing. Not quite an interrogation, but her intrigue seems to have gotten the better of her. “Tell me,” she starts, her mouth curling to a smile, “have you ever seen a kitsune or a fairy tale figure before?”
Darius opens his mouth to say something, but a glance from Beatrice silences him. Darius looks towards Marcus, somewhat interested in his answer now.
Abigal watches the exchange of Seth, Lucia and Halcyon. She seems intrigued at the mention of Seth’s occupation. When asked about the New Year, she speaks up. “Our New Year begins on a different date actually. The Galatian New Year starts in the early days of spring, celebrating the ancient marriage of our founding Ancestors. It is usually a time of reflection rather than celebration, a remembrance to the blood we all derive from. We have annual winter festivities around this time, and there has been a push to align them with your nation’s New Year. ”
Aron walks away from Alistair’s chair, finding his own spot around the table. “It is just problematic. You give a single date to two men, and they both assume its for their calendar.” He grins, almost proudly. “I once arrived almost three months late for a tryst because of that confusion. I learned to start adding the years to my engagement plans.” Abigal once again shakes her head.
cont.
Raphael and Estelle begin to walk down the steps. “And so we shall vanquish this desert like the heroes of old. Living vessels of the Knights of Charlemagne, repeating history once more.” As they walk towards the first floor, servants, four it seems, set up porcelain plates on the tables. Small silver forks lie on the left side of each plate. Knives to the right. Dainty spoons up top. The servants circle the room, spiraling each table with a flurry of flatware.
“It is getting close. I imagine they are awaiting the nod of Emile.” The pair reach the bottom of the steps as the servants finish the last table. Together and single file, they retreat back towards the southern kitchen entrance. In their absence, Raphael and Estelle hear footsteps from the north. They turn, watching as Emile flits through the vestibule, from the Trophy room to the study. "And there he goes."
Stoneheart laughs. It echoes in the library, momentarily halting the whispers of the duo by the bookshelves. “’Spose I’ve been selfish hoggin’ you this whole time. Go, off with ya. Still got a bit of conversin’ ‘fore the new year starts. I’ll save ya the visit and stop by your’s, we can talk about it then.” He gets up to shake Valentina’s hand, a large smile on his face. He seems genuinely happy to repay his debt.
In the silence, a whisper in the library.
Man: “ -Support is all I ask for and what I’ll return. You need a voice, don’t you?”
Before the woman responds a door opens. From the western entrance of the library, Emile de Beaux enters.
Emile almost stumbles in, giving himself a couple of steps to recompose himself before scanning the two conversing duos. His brow rises high, and his smiles widens. “Hope everyone is ready for dessert.” His voice cheery, almost ecstatic. “It’ll be served in the front foyer, please make haste!”
Emile makes his way north, passing Valentina and Ernest. “How splendid! I just knew you two would have a chat. Industry brings people together wonderfully, don’t you agree?” Ernest gives the man a small, slow nod. Emile smiles again, continuing his path towards the northern exit. “Take the conversation to desert, maybe you’ll meet new friends.” As quickly as he entered, he leaves, going towards the smoke lounge.
As she exits, Valentina makes a mental note of what that man looks like and scribbles down the description on a scrap of paper that she pulls out of her clutch.
Then, she goes to find Emile. She's yet to greet their host.
Valentina follows after Emile, heading to the smoke lounge after him. She arrives as he delivers the desert speech to three men: Francis Lyon, Alexander Ravenhall and Asfal Stormborn. "-so please, head towards front foyer as soon as you can." He pauses a moment before giving a sudden 180 degree turn to face Valentina. He smirks. "It seems I have a shadow. Are you quick on your feet? There is still two floors I must inform about desert. Care to join, Miss Silverstone?
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In the studio, Beatrice nods her head in agreement. “I sometimes dreamt about being born in a life of adventure. What a charming lifestyle it would be.” She studies Marcus for a second, almost analyzing him. “You must be around all sorts of colorful figures. A bar must charm those sort of characters.”
** spoiler omitted **
Again she analyzes and shifts her weight to one of her legs. Her tone changes, less whimsical and more pressing. Not quite an interrogation, but her intrigue seems to have gotten the better of her. “Tell me,” she starts, her mouth curling to a smile, “have you ever seen a kitsune or a fairy tale figure before?”Darius opens his mouth to say something, but a glance from Beatrice silences him. Darius looks towards Marcus, somewhat interested in his answer now.
Marcus shrugs in response to her question, saying, "a few, sadly not many. It seems that not many want to brave the towns, with the prejudice that they would face here, I did see an angle blooded part human about a month ago, by the gods that was a sight, enormous white wings he had,I believe he ordered a rice wine
Seth looks towards Abigail and Aron as he speaks. "It is quite interesting to hear about other people's customs for things such as the New Year. Have either of you celebrated a Durendal New Year at a party like this before?"
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The Eclipse
Halcyon had assumed a very relaxed posture in the chair as she enjoyed the discussion about holidays and calendars. Then she abruptly sits up, draws an ornate deck of harrow cards from a special case mostly hidden by a sash on her gown. She shuffles the cards a few times with the practiced ease of a casino card dealer before cutting the deck and looking at the card thus chosen. A troubled look descends on her pleasant features and she places a hand dramatically to her forehead.
"An omen presses me to be revealed!" she says as if the words were forcing themselves from her throat. "The Eclipse has been drawn, an augur that I fear means this bright conversation is about to be overshadowed by an event of extreme urgency."
She pauses dramatically, then places the cards back in the case and says cheerfully, "In other words, I smell dessert! I predict our host will call us down to consume it momentarily. The oracle has spoken." She finishes her performance with a smile and listens for reactions.
Raphael snorts in amusement and nods agreement. "Charlemange indeed. Tell me, heroic Estelle, have you met many of the guests tonight? I will admit some surprise at the venerable field that Emile has gathered here. Have you many friends here tonight? I would be delighted to meet them. For my own part, I would be happy to introduce you to Valentina Silverstone, famed craftsman, and Halycyon d'Orsay, fortune teller and oracle. They were a pair who I might wish to reach out to on the business we discussed earlier."
Beatrice looks astounded. “Angel blooded? And with wings? How charming, I wish I met them. Gods, an angel at a bar. There is a joke somewhere here.”
Darius perks up. “Oh, oh! I have one. So an angel walks into a bar, right? And he goes to the bartender,” he tilts his head to Marcus. “So he walks up to you and orders his rice wine. Darius holds himself together. “So he, hehe, takes a sip, gives it a second look, and then finishes the entire thing.”
Small chuckles escape him. “So the bartender looks at the angel, and asks ‘how was the wine,’ and the angel, ha, the angel says...” Coming apart at the seams now, Darius hunches over in laughter. While not quite recuperated, he finishes the joke between giggles. “And the angel tells him It was heavenly..”
Again he breaks into laughter. Beatrice chuckles either at or with Darius.
In the western lounge room of the second floor, Aron shakes his head. “My first New Year here, Mister Varianna. And I must say, it is rather exciting. Maybe two of the mages will drink too much and duel, I love it when that happens.” His face lights up. "Maybe I could be one of the mages!"
Abigal glares at Aron. He apologizes, assuring her he was kidding. “And my fourth year here, I believe.” Abigal seems to recount them. “First at Monsieur Vaillancourt's, then with Miss Rey. Last year was with Monsieur Augustine Langlais, but was a bit too lavish for my tastes.” Eduard nods in agreement, arms crossed.
She noticed Eduard, and laughs lightly. “Augustine insisted that it was a masquerade. Eduard was almost in ruins trying to find me that night. He followed another woman for an hour thinking it was me. She thought he was flirting with her.” Eduard blushes slightly, lowering his head to his feat.
“We should have brought masks. I know I have enough for everyone back home.”
Halcyon draws a card from her deck, and predicts the “omen.” Abigal and Aron seemed amused, smiling, even laughing at the reading. At the mention of an omen, Eduard’s hand once more returns to his blade, though it loosens when Halcyon speaks of dessert. He sighs and submits a small smile, perhaps recognizing his overreaction, perhaps to not seemed irked by the joke. Alistair’s attention seems to lie on the deck itself.
“Dare we challenge fate?” Aron begins, walking to the eastern door, leaning outwards, searching for the host. “ If we head downstairs now, before Emile arrives, will horrible events transpire? I haven't the slightest on how Oracle powers work.” He returns his body into the room, returning to the table area. “Though it does smell lovely...”
Estelle mulls over the list of guests. “Well, I know a few of the guests from some fundraisers. Ellen, Sinclair, Agatha and Darius I have met on many occasions. I’ve only personally met Alexander Ravenhall twice but I am used to seeing his checks. Very memorable numbers.” A door opens from the bar room. The young guardsman Helmuth von Moltke followed by a well-dressed mage begin to walk towards the trio of tables. “As for meeting your friends, I would welcome it. Perhaps they share similar noble aspirations as you seem to.”
Two individuals, an older man and a young half-elf woman exit the library, arriving in the lower vestibule. They walks towards the front foyer.
"Well, you wanted to meet more friends?" she whispers to Raphael. "The older man is Sinclair LeBlanc, a politician. Try not to argue too much with him. The woman is Ellen Merlot, I'll give you my choice words on her later on."
Darius continues laughing, slowly exhausting himself, gasping for air between laughs. Beatrice smiles, watching Darius curl over. "I would hope those with celestial ties would be above puns. Not quite a joke worth dying over though, Darius. Though it would remedy the whole rightful-Agnes-heir debacle."
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“Dare we challenge fate?” Aron begins, walking to the eastern door, leaning outwards, searching for the host. “If we head downstairs now, before Emile arrives, will horrible events transpire? I haven't the slightest on how Oracle powers work.” He returns his body into the room, returning to the table area. “Though it does smell lovely...”
Halcyon smiles good-naturedly at Aron's comments. "Fate is like a river. It has currents, but you don't have to go where the current takes you. But strange things can happen when you try to avoid an event that you think is fated for you."
Halcyon cocks an ear toward the door to see if she hears Emile approaching. Then she continues, "My favorite story is about a servant of a high cleric of Pharasma. The servant rushed up to the wise old man, all out of breath and said, 'Just now, I was looking for you in the garden and I saw Pharasma, with her scythe and hourglass. She turned, saw me, and made a threatening gesture. Please, lend me your fastest horse. I would ride to Courtain where Pharasma will not find me!'
"The cleric gave the servant his fastest horse and watched him ride as fast as he could toward Courtain. Then the cleric went to his garden where he found Pharasma still there, admiring a fountain. 'Why did you make a threatening gesture at my servant?' he asked the goddess.
"Pharasma replied, 'That was a gesture of surprise, not of threat, for I did not expect to see him here in Roland.'
" 'Why not?' the cleric asked.
" 'Because I have a appointment with him tonight in Courtain.'"
"I do hope you enjoy the festivities then." Seth watches Aron as he as "plays with fate" and can't help but to chime in."I was able to get a quick smell of desert earlier. Emile said his chef's cooking is the best he has ever had."
Seth listens in to Halcyon as she tells her story and lets out a small chuckle at the end of the story. "I have never heard of that one before. Where did you learn it?"
Lucia continues to sit in silence as the group talks darting her attention from person to person as they speak. When Aron mentions how dessert smells lovely she perks up a bit. As Seth finishes talking about dessert, she picks up where he left off. "I have yet to smell the dessert, but I cannot wait much longer for it." A playful smile comes across her face. "I do not know if I should tempt fate or wait for our host to get us."
Emile grabs Valentina by the hand, taking his step up the stairs. “Come, let us find adventure. There are too many people here who must want to know more about you.” He continues hastily up the stairs, almost dragging Valentina behind him. “Myself included of course.” You cannot tell for certain, him in front of you facing forwards, but you are near certain that he just winked.
The two of them ascend the stairs, reaching the second floor. Windows look outwards towards Durendal Park, and the lights of the city make the region seemed almost trapped in a fading sunset. Emile’s hair looks auburn here, each of his curls dancing as he moves from the lights outside. Upstairs, leaning on the wall by the door is a slim man, adorned in leather armor, with small metal plates trimmed silver. He gives a quick smile to Emile and Valentina.
Emile whispers, trying to remain unheard as they approach. “Vincent Durant. A famed bodyguard, even protected a member of Council a couple times. Have you met already?”
“Not formally, but we will before the night ends.” Emile jumps, surprised to have been heard. Vincent gets off the wall, returning to a standing position in a strange, fluid manner. “I had a few potions in preparation. My senses are a bit more acute than usual.” He smiles at Valentina, his eyes hawk-like. He extends his arm with a slow, alien grace. It hangs in the air motionless, awaiting hers. “Vincent Durant. How I wish we met under better conditions.”
In the studio, the music begins to fade. The device playing the sounds seems to have stopped. Darius begins to recover. Slowly his laughs are replaced with giggles, and the giggles with assorted chuckling. He breathes deeply, going back to a normal state. “Well, I will have to find my way to the bar. No telling Agatha though, she is strictly anti-fun.” Beatrice shakes her head at the mention of Agatha.
“But if you want an Agnes at your bar, call on me. There isn’t an instrument in this world I cannot play.” He grins at his own claim.
Beatrice plays off Darius. “Well, between a couple of wonderful paintings and a self proclaimed world class bard playing at your bar, you’ll charm all of your patrons.” She bounces her stance between her two feet. "Should the three of us mingle elsewhere? There are so many more guests to charm."
Aron listens to Halycon’s tale. “Well Lucia, it doesn’t seem we are tempting fate at all. It seems that what we will do will make it happen.” He looks around the room, taking quick glances at all the occupants’ faces. “If his cigars and guests are anything to prove it, Emile seems to have good taste. This dessert has been the subject to both braggery and divine readings. It would go against fate to not dash to it.”
Sinclair, the older gentleman, approaches Raphael and Estelle at the dinner tables. His hair fades in places, perhaps once a rich black, it is now a light charcoal, touched with lines of silver. His lips curl to a smile, and his face bends to his laugh lines, forming to his wrinkles. The man is strangely energetic. He appears to be in his early fifties.
“Raphael Montefiore, my boy!” The man skips the handshake, instead embracing Raphael. He ceases his hug, but grabs Raphael’s hand, shaking it. “A new champion of Roland, no, of Durendal, that is what you are. The mages of Durendal needed a voice, and by Gods kid you gave them one.”
Estelle's brow rises, and a smile comes to her. She begins to talk, possibly to ask about this voice of Raphael's, before Sinclair continues. “But where are my manners? Sinclair LeBlanc. Council member-soon-to-be. You have aspirations, kid, remind me of a young me. Politics ever strike your fancy?”
10:32 PM. 1 hour and 28 minutes until the New Year.
Valentina cocks her head. "Better conditions?" she asks as her hand serenely comes up to meet his. She shakes his hand, her shake less than firm but her hands still calloused as usual. "Is there something wrong happening?" She wrinkles her nose. "It would be a shame if the party were spoiled, but I suppose that's the nature of your work, huh?"
She turns to Emile and smiles. "It must always be a conundrum - to want to throw casual and relaxing parties but want to keep your people safe."
"I have never heard of that one before. Where did you learn it?"
Halcyon smiles at the question. "Stories and I are drawn to each other as a lodestone and a compass needle. As a child, my over-protective parents did not let me go out and play like the other children, so I spent my days in the library reading everything I could. When I couldn't read, my governess, who was a retired librarian, told me more stories. When my relatives traveled, my siblings insisted they bring back candy treats or toys. But I could only be mollified by an exotic story. I can't recall where I first heard this story, but it's always been one of my favorites."
"I have yet to smell the dessert, but I cannot wait much longer for it." A playful smile comes across her face. "I do not know if I should tempt fate or wait for our host to get us."
“If his cigars and guests are anything to prove it, Emile seems to have good taste. This dessert has been the subject to both braggery and divine readings. It would go against fate to not dash to it.”
Halcyon stands and begins to tap and shuffle her way toward the door as people continue to talk longingly about dessert. "Since everyone else is apparently too polite to break ranks and head downstairs for dessert, I'll get things started. I suggest we continue our pleasant conversations with our mouths full of cake!" She bows politely and moves out into the hall and heads for the stairs.
Seth listens to Halcyon and as she gets up he looks towards her. At the mention of cake, he gets up and begins following her motioning Lucia to follow. "I am quite embarrassed though, you are the one who is breaking the awkwardness and leading us. On the battlefield I am brave enough charge into an enemy, but when it comes to social gatherings I am not as brave as I am on the battlefield." Seth gets a bit red when he says it, but he says it with a bit of sincerity.
As Seth gets up and motions for her to follow, Lucia gets up and goes ahead of him taking Halcyon's arm once again to help guide her downstairs.
Vincent gives a look to Emile. “ She knows, right? Tell me again who exactly was there.” He looks rather annoyed.
Emiles thinks a moment. “Thinking on it once more, I believe Montefiore and Valentina arrived afterwards with the Tamarins.” He refocuses on Valentina, and the question conundrum she poses. “Well, usually assassinations don’t happen at my parties. I am just glad we have two guardians by trade here.”
“Don’t jump to it being an assassination. And please Emile, quiet down, the entire party does not need to know.” He speaks in a whisper now. "If it is an assassin, it is likely someone at this party. If they figure out that we know what they are up to, they may change their plan. Better to catch them off guard.”
He rests his head in his hand for a moment before tussling his hair. He breathes a quiet sigh. “Continue your round of calling guests to dessert, Emile. Valentina, you are friends with the Oracle, no? Do you trust her?”
"I've met her." says Valentina, tossing her hair.
An assassination? Hm. She certainly hopes not. Nobody wants to think about anything that happens on the same day as a death, and she wants to get some business done.
Valentina responds to Vincent softly, forcing him to lean in a bit to hear her. "She seems a little bit eccentric, but far from malicious. She might be self-interested in that selling herself as a skilled fortune-teller to prominent members of society will bring her business, but I doubt things she says or does will be to harm you or others." She cocks her head at the bodyguard. "Did that help?"
Raphael listens to Estelle raptly, running over the names as she lists them and filing away the information for later. He smiles genially and nods as she points out Sinclair and Ellen.I wonder what these choice words might be, but that may well be a better question for later. Before he can open his mouth to reply, Sinclair has spotted him and started to make his way over. Extending his hand, he finds himself embraced and he quickly changes the motion to return the hug.
"No doubt many would have been happy to serve as I have. I've known many in my time in the Guard who are more deserving of the title, "Champion of Durendal". All the same, Monsieur Leblanc, I appreciate your sentiments. I am glad I could assist in any fashion possible." Raphael's eyes dart back and forth over the man's face, looking for tells, as he replies, "I am flattered to that you see even some small part of yourself reflected in me. I have some interest in the politics of the city but I can't say that I've seriously considered taking it up in the near future. You feel I'd have an aptitude for it?"