Abigal and Vincent continue their small quarrel. It seems the conversation on repealing old laws has hit a nerve for the both of them, though for opposite reasons. Alexander listens, nodding to both sides of the argument, while Eduard focuses his attention elsewhere.
Seth continues to eat his cake watching Emile change in character for the brief moment. As Helmuth asks his question towards Seth, Seth finishes his cake and gives the plate away along with Helmuth's glass. "You are correct. We have found quite the niche. There is a good amount of merchants who at times require some extra protection whether it be for a caravan or protecting a warehouse after a large shipment. There are plenty of mercenaries in my employment, and with the addition of those old fire arms that were given to me by the Guard a few more might join our ranks."
Halcyon thinks it may be time to shift to the group Beatrice is in and learn more about the other de Beau sister, but first she decides to try to encourage the somewhat timid Asfal to have a bit more confidence in himself and perhaps learn a little more in advance of his intended consultation. She takes the card back from him and holds it, closing her eyes and slipping into a light trance, focusing her mind on psychic emanations from the card that link her to Asfal.
Halcyon focuses on a Knowledge (Local) roll to get something extra about Asfal than she already knows, some experience he has had which would make an interesting story.
[
Raphael's lips quirk in amusement at Ellen Merlot's eager desire to meet as many people as possible. As she returns from gathering a card from Halcyon, Raphael resumes the same slight smile he is practiced at holding. Raphel sips his wine as she explains what changes she desires. It's a shame that her goals seem to be commendable, though I'm not sure I can speak to the diplomatic impact at the moment. I find the woman to be lacking a degree of refinement and poise I'd expect from a partner in politics. I will have to see what Estelle has to say of her later.
Raphael responds in due time, "I can see the concerns you seek to address and they seem to me to be commendable ones. There would seem to be a valid concern over retaliatory tariffs that the Galatians might impose. We trade with them on a surprisingly frequent basis, given our nations' tumultuous history with one another." Raphael pauses, seemingly distracted momentarily and his eyes narrow for an instant. He resumes, his face carefully neutral again, "I might be interested in exploring the matter further with you some time. I've not reviewed the legalities involved and it might well be that there are certain obstacles in the law to be overcome first." Raphael smiles in earnest and adds, "This would be in addition to the diplomatic and political aspects. It would be a thrilling effort to make, if nothing else."
Raphael sips again at the wine, enjoying the spicy aroma of the full-blooded, oaked red. "And what of you, Monsieur Leblanc? What do you feel is most important to pursue a resolution for? Assume, by way of simplifying the equation, that you have sufficient political capital to carry out whatever you wish. That is undoubtedly the case for a man of your stature, but it is always good to clarify."
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** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **
"like I said, I'm in it for bringing joy to people, maximizing joy, and minimizing suffering should be the life long goal of all humans, heck all scentiant forms of life, but in addition to making people happy, the bar is fairly profitable, enough that I can have enough afterwards to play around and buy other properties, and by the gods some of the stories you hear at the bar, all are welcome within my establishment, but adventurers are a sort known to frequent bars and taverns, since they typically don't have homes o' there own, anyway those people tell such fantastic stories, and it makes the job more fun on my end to hear those tales, to her second question he responds with "we've met, and I enjoy his company and I assume the feeling us mutual. Apply whatever label you wish
The patrolman takes the thugs, writing down the blonde man's name. On questioning, the men are insist they saw monsters. Without any evidence of actual crime committed, the men are released, and are the paperwork is discarded.
Ellen nods. “It is a difficult matter, especially when described so brief. I recognize this more than anyone. Perhaps we could spend some day over coffee talking about it, don't you think?” She smiles, and listens to Raphael as he asks of Sinclair's ambitions.
“Too much power with too few people. Too much power in Roland, to be honest. People in the border cities need a voice. People in Flamberge need a voice. If our country is going to celebrate liberty and fraternity, then our brothers and sisters must be heard.” He lowers his voice now, and is no longer with a flair of theatrics. He takes a few sips, it must be water by the speed he is drinking. “A parliament, Galatine without the King and the blood ranking. A representative for every 100,000 Durendale men and women, from their region, for their people. A voice for everyone.”
Sinclair finishes his drink, clearing his throat, putting the glass on the table. Smiling, he analyses Raphael. “You’ve heard my aspirations, only fair to return your own.”
Estelle listens to Marcus. For a quick moment in his response, she shoots a look at Sinclair, taking interest in his abolishment of Council. She returns back to Marcus respectfully. “I am not meaning to create any labels, I assure you.” She continues to eat from her plate, efficiently striking down with her fork, mantis-esque. “This bar does intrigue me however. I can’t say I have ever found my way to one in Roland before. Do you have any sort of signature brew?”
Bertrand stops tending to a queasy Alistair. He enters back into the conversation. “I know you have the weapons already, but the School of Evocation or the Martial-Spell School at the society could give your mercenaries a more magical edge.” He gives his pleasantries to the de Beaux’s, shaking both Emile and Beatrice’s hand. “How many mountain brigands have fought against a trained Sorcerer or Magus afterall?” He pours a glass of water for Alistair, and searches for an ale among the wine for himself. Unsuccessful, he instead grabs a plate for dessert.
Seth listens to Emile's idea and ponders for a moment before responding. "I unfortunately do not have the money to pay for a fight of such great skill as a gladiator. I wouldn't mind being put in touch with anyone you can introduce me to." Seth peruses the table of desserts again looking for something small. As he finds a macaroon and picks it he continues. "I have never though of endorsing someone in the coliseum before. As I said before, I do not have the funds for that kind of investment. Mercenary work makes good money, but not that much money."
Seth then listens to Bertrand's suggestion. "That is true. I have had my fair share of encounters with brigands that have a small bit of magical capability. I have considered that before, but every time I have to fight someone like that we are able to get through it without anyone getting badly injured. "
Halcyon comes out of her short trance a half minute later. She puts the card back in her deck and stows the deck again in her sash hidden belt pouch. She regards Asfal for a moment, resting a hand on his arm, then leans closer and whispers,
"I sense that you lived many interesting stories, some of them without an ending yet. I look forward to learning more about you and finding a suitable ending for some of your stories."
Halcyon then stands for a moment, listening to the various conversations swirling around her, like a dog with its nose in the air finding a scent. Her eyes dart back and forth behind her tinted lenses until she spots Beatrice and begins to move toward that part of the room, listening to the conversations of the other groups as she goes. The dialogue between Ellen, Sinclair, and Estelle, intrigues her. She looks forward to finding out more about each's political agenda and perhaps spinning things in a positive direction.
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** spoiler omitted **
when she talks Marcus first nods, but then he grimices "not as such, no, not yet, but I have hired people to help me work on that, a pair of skilled alchemists, our rice wine, is popular amongst the town guard, and I'm looking into purchasing a meadery soon, or perhaps a vineyard, really have control of everything that goes into the brew, "
"A chance to discuss politics over coffee sounds very pleasant, Madame Merlot. It is certainly a difficult matter and I look forward to hearing more of your thoughts on the topic." A think smile creeps onto his face and he glances to Estelle. I will be very curious to see what you have to say. There is hunger there and perhaps a hint of anger. He holds his smile, listening attentively to Sinclair. His neutral smile breaks for a moment in surprise as Sinclair explains his dreams for the council. Lowering his eyebrows, he nods and replies, "It is an admirable goal, to see all in Durendal represented in their government. It would be the undertaking of a lifetime, but it will surely immortalize the name of he who manages it."
Sipping his wine and taking the moment it afforded to regain his composure, Raphael smiles and replies, "But of course, Monsieur Leblanc. I would be happy to share my thoughts. It is fair, as you say. The grandest theme behind all my aspirations is service of my country. Durendal is the gem of our world and I should be glad to see it forever as the glittering star of a jewel in the world. To see the arts, sciences, and culture of our land flourish is my aspiration." Raphael speaks enthusiastically, growing slightly feverish as he continues, "I would see our people empowered to create and grow as it has not done so before. I would see us stand strong in the world as a shining example. To be quite honest, I see the Abadaran faith going hand in hand in our country, and I should be glad to see it's virtues widely extolled. This is, of course, not to be exclusionary, but I am a firm believer in His tenets."
Calming, Raphael clears his throat and collects himself. He continues, "For myself, I am fairly satisfied with my practice and in seeing my family's company begin to grow again. I believe I can contribute by bringing the wealth of commerce to our lands and in ensuring our laws are just. Perhaps that will be enough, though I suppose only time will tell."
Raphael’s speech gives a smile to Sinclair and Ellen. “Dream big. Aspirations are what will lead us to greatness.” He refills his glass with more water. “You know, I have friends who are big into Abadar. The belief that ‘cash is king’ is common, but I know some who see it closer to a god. A stronger coin leads to a stronger country." He sips, turning to Ellen. “And with an economy like that, the Durendal businessman won’t need to worry about a little Galatian competition.”
“A nationwide religious conversion is somehow more ambitious than Sinclair’s dreams. Though if you become High Priest within Council, you could focus the pantheon on Abadar. If Sinclair hasn’t disassembled Council by then.” She laughs lightly. “But Raphael, with a speech like that you could whip a crowd into a fervor.” She looks to Sinclair. “Don’t you think?” He nods, and they both take a drink from their glasses.
Topics on magical trinkets have turned to magical weapons, largely lead by Tomas. He speaks at length about the variety of bows he keeps at home. Aron entertains him, talking about various ceremonial daggers he has enchanted himself. Nishara expresses interest in both of their weapons.
Darius leaves the group, Abigal Bolton and her bodyguard fulfilling his place. Darius makes way towards Alexander and Vincent.
Halcyon enters the group of the de Beauxs, Seth, Helmuth, Bertrand and Alistair.
Beatrice continues to sip her drink, making room for Halcyon as she nears the group. She smiles eagerly toward her, but addresses Seth. “We just had Florian at a party. Never met a man more charming. Sure he could do wonders for you. "
She takes the smallest sip of her champagne, hardly drinking any at all. She gives a quick wave to Halcyon, and a short whisper as the next person begins speaking. “Beatrice, charmed. You are the Oracle that Emmy has been raving about, no?” Emile gives Beatrice a glance, biting his tongue but smiling. Beatrice giggles.
“Florian Richelieu is too flowery of a fighter for a mercenary company.” Helmuth attempts to removes the blue-dye from his lips with his sleeve, but is unsuccessful. He licks his lips between sentences, trying to remove it to no avail. “You don’t want some long haired dandy to represent you. Need someone more raw, suited for battle, not a tea party.” He thinks a moment, pondering, now biting at his lips. “Like Evelynn Durant. Or Skiver Talltail if you don’t mind the Ratfolk.”
Helmuth takes a small pastry from the table. “Speaking of Durants, I forgot the one we have here. Excuse me Seth, it has been a pleasure.” He extends his hand to shake, and smiles at the oracle as he leaves.
Helmuth leaves the clique, heading towards Alexander and Vincent as the Galatians part.
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Abigal finishes talking about her magical training as a child. She remarks that there are many more people she must become familiar with. She bids Alexander and Vincent goodbye. As she leaves with her bodyguard, Darius Agnes and Helmuth von Moltke IV enter the group. Pleasantries are exchanged.
It is 10:41 PM. 1 hour and 19 minutes until the New Year.
Seth listens to Emile, now quite interested in what he has to say. After Emile gives Seth his offer, Seth cannot stop himself from smiling. Seth listens to the others words on the gladiator and shakes Helmuth's hand as he leaves, giving him a business card. "If you ever want to stop by my tavern for a drink or business, stop by any time you like."
After Helmuth leaves, Seth turns his attention back towards Emile. "You are far too kind. I cannot allow you to do such a favor for me. If there is anything you might need me and my men for, just ask. As for which gladiator, it would be quite the task to decide. How about we continue this conversation sometime during the week at my office?"
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Halcyon says to Beatrice. "Emile is too kind, but I'm glad he invited me. So many different types of people mixed with good food and fine wine is a recipe for a fascinating evening." Halcyon sipped some wine and soaked in the conversations and vibrations of this new group.
Edit: As Helmuth spoke his opinion about fighters, she narrowed her focus on him. This was the second time she had encountered him and again she felt a certain revulsion. She let herself slip into special kind of observational state that sometimes helped her see past deceptions and into the heart of a person. It drained her a bit and left her unable to attempt it again for a while, but she felt it worthwhile, given her earlier premonition.
Francis Lyon and Ernest Stoneheart walk into the front foyer together. They look over the party, exchanging farewells, looking over the food.
- Groupless: Francis Lyon, Ernest Stoneheart, Valentina Silverstone.
- The first group. Raphael Montefiore, Estelle Bellerose, Ellen Merlot Asfal Stormborn and Sinclair LeBlanc.
- The second group: Nishara Tamarin, Tomas Parisi, Aron Carlisle, Abigal Bolton and Eduard Boltonward.
- Third Group: Halcyon d’Orsay, Bertrand Travere, Beatrice + Emile de Beaux, Alistair and Seth Varianna.
- Fourth Group: Vincent Durant, Darius Agnes, Helmuth von Moltke II and Alexander Ravenhall.
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Francis Lyon and Ernest Stoneheart walk into the front foyer together. They look over the party, exchanging farewells, looking over the food.
- Groupless: Francis Lyon, Ernest Stoneheart, Valentina Silverstone.
- The first group. Raphael Montefiore, Estelle Bellerose, Ellen Merlot Asfal Stormborn and Sinclair LeBlanc.
- The second group: Nishara Tamarin, Tomas Parisi, Aron Carlisle, Abigal Bolton and Eduard Boltonward.
- Third Group: Halcyon d’Orsay, Bertrand Travere, Beatrice + Emile de Beaux, Alistair and Seth Varianna.
- Fourth Group: Vincent Durant, Darius Agnes, Helmuth von Moltke II and Alexander Ravenhall.
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **
"the wine is called sake*, spelled S-A-K-E, it is usuall served in a bowl, or in a ceramic saucer, either chilled or steaming but it's considered bad form to serve it lukeworm and the guard love it, mostly because I serve it to them specifically as a discount, as recognition of the hard work that they do to the city, but also because it's uncommon, I think I'm the only bar that serves it in town, but I'm not certain, I also have a magic item that can make magical booze, but the shoddy old thing only makes one serving a day, but I can sell that one serving at a premium and that buys me some time to get something truely unique, " he turns to look where she's pointin and laughs when he sees his sister "you thought-? No, no, divines forbid that's my sister, no, curently I'm unattached, sure a few flings here and there, those who would wish to see how skilled my silver tongue is at... Other.. Tasks. But no wife or girlfriend at the moment, she's also unattached but I think she might be flirting with the Tizonian,
When Beatrice mentions Emile's interest in having Halcyon meet Caroline, Halcyon smiles and nods. "I'm happy to say I did get a chance to meet with her and share a cup of tea. I think we're going to meet again to discuss topics of interest between oracles. I hope she comes back down to celebrate the midnight hour. She seems as shy as you are out-going. Strange how two members of the same family can be so different."
After that, she keeps an ear out for what Seth says to Emile's new line of conversation. She stands so she can keep an eye on Helmuth, although seeing him standing next to Vincent makes her relax some.
Seth watches Emile as he speaks listening closely to make sure he hears him over his sister. "For me... It just happened. When I finished my training under a family friend, my father wanted me to join the Guard. As a young man I did not want to be tied down by the Guard so me and one of my friends began offering our services to a couple of merchants. From there it grew to what it is today." Seth pours himself a glass of water as he continues. "Some of my men were in the Guard, others like me didn't want to join. It is a more laid back lifestyle, and you would be surprised how much some people will pay for extra protection. I do still go on missions with my men, though not as often as I used to. With the amount of men in my hire, I do not have to always go with them. I trust all of them, and they listen to me. They know that if they try to pull any stunts that I won't be offering them jobs anymore."
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As Seth finishes Lucia quickly pipes in. "And if it weren't for him deciding to be a mercenary, I might not have met him." Lucia get on her toes and gives Seth a peck on the cheek as she finishes talking.
"Monsieur Leblanc, Madame Merlot, you are both too kind. What skill I possess as an orator is simple a matter of practice. As an attorney, it is of course most necessary to be able to speak well to gain the jury's ear. A man who stutters or is indecisive in speaking to a jury is a man who will lose his cases more often then naught." Raphael shrugs and dismisses with flattery with a wave of his free hand. "As for the Master of the First Vault, it is something of a mistake to see his as only interested in commerce. It is his teachings that a strong and lawful civilization is the means by which nation's grow to greater heights. A strong codified set of laws where all are the same before the eyes of the courts is necessary for prosperity to reach all."
Raphael chuckles as he realizes he has begun to sermonize, "You will forgive me, certain training is as instinctive as breathing sometimes." Catching Estelle's eye, he asks of her, "And what of you, Estelle? Would you care to share your vision for a greater Durendal?"
In large numbers outside, musicians enter through the front foyer, delicately sneaking away past the conversing party. They walk silently, all garbed black, identical. The older, more mature of them pay no attention to the groups or the food, but youngers’ eyes linger, looking at the beautiful guests and the extravagant food.
Each of them carries an instrument, walking north to the ballroom. Horns, violins, violas, small percussive instruments. A large harp is pushed on a dolly, requiring a servant to help its movement. There are perhaps two dozen of them, and not a minutes after they enter, they are all gone.
Overlooking the party on the second floor is Caroline de Beaux. With her walks a beautiful silver haired woman. They descend the steps together, Caroline on the outside, the other lightly gliding her hand on the railing.
Ernest joins a group, moving his way to stand beside Tomas Parisi. Francis Lyon looks around, side-stepping the group with three Galatians, ending up by Alexander Ravenhall.
- Agatha Agnes, Caroline de Beaux, and Valentina Silverstone are without a group.
- The first group. Raphael Montefiore, Estelle Bellerose, Ellen Merlot, Asfal Stormborn and Sinclair LeBlanc.
- The second group: Ernest Stoneheart, Nishara Tamarin, Tomas Parisi, Aron Carlisle, Abigal Bolton and Eduard Boltonward.
- Third Group:Halcyon d’Orsay, Bertrand Travere, Beatrice + Emile de Beaux, Alistair Hawthorne and Seth Varianna.
- Fourth Group: Vincent Durant, Darius Agnes, Helmuth von Moltke IV, Francis Lyon and Alexander Ravenhall.
When invited by Raphael to enter the conversation on politics, she smiles at Marcus. She tilts her head toward them, her necklace’s jingle almost lost to the sounds of conversation. “They beckon. Join us, will you?” She places her plate down, fork center across it.
“My great Durendal is a place free of oppressors, where all are united in freedom and equality” Ellen offers a “hear, hear” but Estelle pays her no mind. “Where our ratfolk, tiefling and orc blooded brothers are regarded as men. Humans and humanoids, golden haired or otherwise, recognized as equals with all the same opportunities as you and I.” Asfal claps his hands together lightly.
It is 10:43PM. 1 hour and 17 minutes until the New Year.
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During dessert, Valentina has had a very difficult time trying to force herself to talk to anybody. She knows that it would be excellent for business, but she's also quite sure that she won't find anything more advantageous than what Mr. Stoneheart had offered her later, and she finds herself absorbed into thinking about what it is she wants to take from him.
Generous as he was, she was sure he would be easy enough to target with some particularly phrased requests.
Besides that, she wishes she were back in her workshop. She wants to talk with that head again. She wants to build something with her hands. She's been fiddling with her silverware for the better part of thirty minutes now, though she realizes that she's probably being untactful. She's definitely ignored their host for too long, even after she'd tried to spend a bit of time with him.
She resolves to find Raphael, and looks around for where he is. She sees him talking to a few politicians, and decides to head on over to tag along with him. Might as well milk what connections she can from him.
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In large numbers outside, musicians enter through the front foyer, delicately sneaking away past the conversing party. They walk silently, all garbed black, identical. The older, more mature of them pay no attention to the groups or the food, but youngers’ eyes linger, looking at the beautiful guests and the extravagant food.
Each of them carries an instrument, walking north to the ballroom. Horns, violins, violas, small percussive instruments. A large harp is pushed on a dolly, requiring a servant to help its movement. There are perhaps two dozen of them, and not a minutes after they enter, they are all gone.
Overlooking the party on the second floor is Caroline de Beaux. With her walks a beautiful silver haired woman. They descend the steps together, Caroline on the outside, the other lightly gliding her hand on the railing.
Ernest joins a group, moving his way to stand beside Tomas Parisi. Francis Lyon looks around, side-stepping the group with three Galatians, ending up by Alexander Ravenhall.
** spoiler omitted **** spoiler omitted **...
- Agatha Agnes, Caroline de Beaux, and Valentina Silverstone are without a group.
- The first group. Raphael Montefiore, Estelle Bellerose, Ellen Merlot, Asfal Stormborn and Sinclair LeBlanc.
- The second group: Ernest Stoneheart, Nishara Tamarin, Tomas Parisi, Aron Carlisle, Abigal Bolton and Eduard Boltonward.
- Third Group:Halcyon d’Orsay, Bertrand Travere, Beatrice + Emile de Beaux, Alistair Hawthorne and Seth Varianna.
- Fourth Group: Vincent Durant, Darius Agnes, Helmuth von Moltke IV, Francis Lyon and Alexander Ravenhall.
Marcus gets a mischievous glint in his eye, as her words spark an idea for a joke later, "I'll be sure to tell her that, I'm sure it'll bring out a laugh in her
When she gives her little speech Marcus raises his glass to the sentiment and follows it with "I wish for a Roland where all it's people can be free and healthy and prosperous, I wish likewise for all of Durendel to thrive, I wish for intelligent life the world over to treat each other as equals and to be happy, but wishes alone aren't enough, we must work to make such a dream a reality, touch the hearts and minds of the people, and do our own part to bring joy in all we meet instead of suffering, hatred can not make a country great, strong, maybe maybe not, results seem to vary on that, but never a great one, in the words of an elvish philosopher I was reading about roughly a week ago, "a house divided against itself can not stand" likewise, a nation without unity will fall, but a people united with the aim of bettering themselves can stand against any opposition they may face he then coughs into his hand blushing slightly "sorry didn't mean to monologue, I just get a little Impassioned about certain subjects"
"It’s her curse. All Oracles have them, right? She was lively and bright once, but it doesn’t help that she can hardly speak without slipping into some strange language.” Beatrice takes another phantom-sip of her drink, perhaps a sliver of it disappears. Maybe. “Still, she will advance. And someday soon her predictions will breathe life into our family’s trade.”
Halcyon nods as Beatrice talks of her sister. "Curses vary, of course, but most oracles with difficulty with language do fine until they encounter serious stress. But if she is shy and worries about what people with think of her if she speaks odd words, that could make it stressful to speak in any situation. I believe it can also make it hard for her to understand other people as well as to make herself understood by them."
Halcyon pauses as the hubbub of the musicians intrudes on her senses. Although they are beyond her range of vision, she senses their movement and the ripple effect it has on the other conversations.
"As for Carolyn helping the family business with predictions, it may be that she can and will, but an oracle need not focus on divination, as I have. She could focus on healing or spells protecting others from evil or spells for combating undead. Don't let your brother pressure her into becoming a business asset, if she aspires to cultivate other gifts of the divine. It would be like expecting you to give up painting to become a lawyer. You might be able to do it, but you might also be miserable. If Emile wants divine guidance regarding business decisions, of course, he knows where he can find it." As she speaks this last sentence, she draws a Harrow card and brings it close to her eyes for a moment and then ponders.
5 The Bear Strength NN
She nods and slips it back into her deck but says no more. As the conversation drifts to the family collection of novels, she makes a mental note of it and considers a future check of the mentioned books, always interested in stories and lore, particularly how they affect the people who cherish them.
Sensing that the party may soon transition to the ballroom, Halcyon says to Beatrice, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope I can see your artwork some time and maybe spend some time in the de Beaux library. I want to move to the ballroom before the rush."
She makes her way slowly toward the ballroom, stopping when near a table with deserts to pick up some kind of fudge cake. When she gets into the ballroom, she moves a far enough away from the others to cast Detect Evil without attracting attention, if necessary slipping into the trophy room as she casts. Then she studies the musicians as they set up before drifting back to the vestibule, hovering near the group by the door. She's not expecting anything to turn up, but while people are focused on other things, she wishes to at least rule certain things out about her premonition. She occasionally nibbles on her cake.