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May 15, 1197, around midnight
Baron John has decided to hold court in the main chamber of Castle York main tower. The room is opulent, filled with tables and well dressed people. Tapestries hung on the walls and servants serve the cainites present with absolute obedience.
Yet the situation is quite different for some of you: for Lachlan and Edward the scene is, if not familiar, at least known. This is not their first dance at court. They know the people here and are aknowledge as members. Here's exquisite Lady Sian Brach, chamberlain and queen of the harpies in the Barony smiles at them approvingly, while there even dour Sheriff Tristan Ashlington, nods his head slightly at their passage.
On the other side of the room,in a corner shunned by noble and servant alike, the situation is quite different: Edouard and Bertand stand along with another vampire so badly mauled his features have not yet reformed after the beating he evidently received. Two other cainites whose bestial mien marks them as Gangrel prowl at a short distance, eyeing them as hawks do with mice. Very few of the other cainites spare a second glance for them, and if they do it only carries scorn and derision.
Aside from the outcast in the corner Court seems like a placid beast: cainite nobles converse with each other while sipping blood from silvered goblets, while finely dressed servants run with adoration and obedience from one cainite lord or the other and ghouls guards silently survey the whole scene.
Then the main door of the hall slams open. Nobles seat themselves at their tables while servants scurry away to their positions at the sides of the room. The Baron and his primogen council have entered the hall. The reason for this night's gathering ready to be unveiled.
The Baron takes is seat in the Throne at the center of the dais, the other cainites taking position on the seats at his right and left.
Baron John is a tall immaculately dressed man, the very image of the Norman lord he was in life, only a small scar marring his visage and remembering everyone of the soldier he was before assuming the august position of Baron of York.
The Vampire seated at his immediate left is even taller than the baron. He wears a carmine armor and has a longsword at his side. He sports a long white beard and a savage mare of hair, while his eyebrows give his stare an hawkish quality.
A woman is seated on the Baron's immediate right. She too is tall and well muscled. With a long thick braid of black hair cascading on her shoulders. She wears a spartan and pratical dress, not unlike those worn by some women among saxon nobility.
Farthest from John, on the right sits another cainite sporting a well trimmed short blond beard. His dress is exquisite and his fingers carry several huge rings adorned with gold and gems.
The final vampire, seated on the left side of the baron, past the bearded one is a shaven man with short black air and wearing a black robe embroidered with silver inlays. He surveys the rest of the Court with what you could only define as supreme confidence.
At his left a chair stands, empty.
As the Baron and his primogens are seated another cainite steps forward, he's young and impeccably dressed, bearing a staff in his hands. He beats it three times on the floor and then declares:"All raise for John, by Grace of the Lord Baron of York and Satrap to his Lordship Mithras of London" as all the cainites in the room stand he beats the staff three times again and pronounces:"Court may now commence. The first supplicant is the esteemed Sheriff of York, His Grace's childe, Tristan Ashlington. You may step forward, lord Ashlington"
Immediately the Sheriff, a lean man with angular features, takes the center of the Hall falls on his knee and after the baron signals for him to raise, adresses him and the primogens:"Sire and Lord, most noble primogens. I asked to be allowed to talk before any other matter was brought to the attention of this august Court as we seem to have a small but persistent situation involving vagabonds and thieves. Just this evening my good man, Harold, surprised one low blooded cainite, a certain Bertand Auton, claiming descent from clan Malkavian, trying to enter our fair city unnoticed. Then we have the matter of the vagabonds we allowed to stay in our shadow for so long, the mongrel Caitiff calling itself Festus and the Ravnos scoundrel, Edward Trebaol. I think it's high time we deal with these pests. My sire, I ask you to allow me the pleasure of ridding York of these lowborn creatures, so that they can trouble the nights of their betters no more".
A murmur raises from the seated vampires as the sheriff finishes his tirade, perplexed but not disapproving.
Then the Baron speaks:"A small matter indeed, my childe, expecially considering the other matters that need to be discussed this night. But I see no reason why I should not indulge this obsession of yours. Very well. Do the accused have anything to say? Does anyone want to talk in their defence? If not I'm ready to pronounce myself on their fate"
Edward looks at the other two specimens and quickly stands.....
"My Lord Baron, I did purpose in not bringing myself unto you and in fact knew..."
Points at the female Gangrel and her two ghouls.....
"That in due course the time would come, in fact I informed her that I knew of her coming before it happened.....my family was not just any of the Romani, but one lineage of power who knew many mysteries already. That combined blood flows within me."
"It is that pulse, that blood that tells me that purpose other than witnessing the death of a few scoundrels brings me hence at the appointed hour."
"If I might approach, I have something I am meant to give unto your hand Baron John."
"And having it in your hand you will disern that no trick, no lie, no deception is within me."
Edward approches and drops the ring into the Baron's hand.....
"I await your judgement....."
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As Eduard tries to approach two ghouls stationed near the dais lower their halbeards and the Sheriff puts himself between the advancing Ravnos and the Baron:"You may certainly NOT approach, lowborn cur! You will await judgement at your given post. And if you want to give something to His Grace you will give it to me first so I can make certain it's not one of your loutish tricks! Now step back before I make you! so saying the sheriff rudely pries the ring from Adouard's fingers and examines it eyeing the signet suspiciously.
As he does the Baron speaks again:"My interest is almost piqued, Tristan. What is it? I very much doubt this young... fellow has it in him to harm me, don't you agree?"
The sheriff gives the Baron the ring:"It's most perplexing, sire, it seems like a signet bearing the insignia of Lady Roberta Whitecliffe... only such thing is impossible, of course. I think this proves beyond doubt we have a thief in our hands!"
For a split second the baron frowns, then:"Most perplexing indeed. And your intuition might be right childe. Yet custom and law require me to hear this out. But in due time. You said what you had to say and presented your... "evidence", charlatan. And indeed later you shall explain how you came in possession of this ring. But for the moment you shall remain silent. There are others who I need to judge, and they need to state their cases too. And of course, I urge any of the worthies here present to give us their insight, if they think it to be relevant"
Bertrand steps forward and bows in a fashion mimicking exactly that taken by Tristan Ashlington.
Bertrand opens his mouth to speak but makes the mistake of looking up at the assembled Prince and Primogen and the words die on his lips. He closes his eyes and tries again but even with his eyes closed Bertrand knows they are staring at him.
Shaking he reaches in his pocket and pulls forth a puppet who begins to speak on his behalf in a young female voice...
"Honest Prince John, Bertrand was not sneaking in he was coming here to see you because he was told to come here. There is a letter that proves it".
Smiling feebly Bertrand pulls the letter out of his pocket to produce it. As the letter is pulled from the pocket another item falls out clanking on the floor and rolling a foot away from Bertrand. It is a golden brooch resembling an owl with a single eye.
Bertrand crawls forward to retrieve the brooch with the hand which handles the puppet holding the letter up with his other hand.
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Despite himself the Baron chuckles at Bertand's performance. As the rest of the Court giggles in response Baron John motions for the Sheriff to retrieve letter and brooch. Tristan doesn't seem to be amused, ire clearly visible on the stained lines of his face. Without a word the Sheriff takes both items and bowing gives them to his sire. The Baron checks the seal of the letter, then the clasp... then breaks the seal and starts reading it. After a few more moments he chuckles again:"This is precious! Seems like dear Lady Roberta is actually involved in this somehow! I think this diversion is proving actually quite entertaining! Consider my interest piqued!.
The Baron folds the letter neatly on his lap and then adresses the Caitiff, Festus:"And what about you, mongrel? Are you going to surprise us all revealing you have a patron far above your station too?" as festus, broken lips and teeth and eyes wide with fright tries to moan some excuses the baron cuts him short:"I thought so. Very well. Unless anyone has anything to add I will hear from the Ravnos about how he gained possession of such a ring. Then I will rule on the fate of these cainites"
The sheriff seems ready to add something, his scowl promising nothing good, but for the moment he awaits to see if someone else wants to share his opinion first.
"My Lord Baron, I was to be of great import in my family a Drabarne or Dukkerin (mage), but it seems my station has changed though I admit I know little of what is now considered proper. My father is Kuyan (fire mage)....."
When he mentions his father's fire he looks at the ghouls
"Instead through Tumnimos (gypsy for the embrace), I have been made Shilmulo (Vampire), this possibility though less than optimal power wise gives me much more time in which to work."
"I have imbibed the Deltumnimos it also still courses through me, so many threads seek purpose within my mind, silk to be woven into something stronger than steel, unbreakable and woven to fit in any reality"
"I perceive a kingdom of age upon age. Unveiled and unending."
"I can not say for certain the origin of the ring it was sent with a letter, but we all know how much can be false..."
"By your leave of course."
"And they call ME crazy..." Bertrand mutters a bit too loudly.
Sir Lachlan Wemyss sits watching the proceedings rather dispassionately, occasionally sipping from a goblet.
Edward carefully observes the scene, taking everything in, but struggling due to his unfamiliarity with Cainites of Baron John's court. He carefully ponders the best course of action.
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The Baron seems puzzled and more than a little irritated by Edouard speech:"Does anyone make sense of what he's mumbling? Are we sure we don't have another Malkavian here? At least the other one was funny... I will tell you for the last time: wait until you are called before speaking. I care little and less for the titles you use among your vagabonds and thieves. In my court one speaks by my leave. Or not at all!"
Then, seizing the opportunity the Sheriff asks to be allowed to speak:"My Sire, I know not what Lady Roberta wrote in that letter of hers but I urge you to consider how these lowborn cainites meance the careful order you built here in this fine Barony. The Ravnos is clearly a knave, and, as he just demonstrated he respects his better not. The Malkavian may seem funny, yet I implore you to remember the lesson we learned from Ottmar Buswich, Malkavians are untrustworthy, their very natures betray them and those around them. This creature might not even mean harm... but it will certainly lead us to ruin if we don't put it down before it's to late! And I won't waste words for the Caitiff. It's very existence is an insult to everything we represent!" the fervor of the sheriff is evident, and more than one of the cainites seated at the tables is taken aback by his ferocious will to get rid of the low blooded cainites.
The Baron fixes his gaze on his childe for a moment, considers him and then speaks again:"I see. Now, Ravnos, or whatever you are, explain how you came in possession of this ring. I warn you now, it's in your best interest if you don't lie and make yourself clear in your explanation"
Charisma plus zero
"My Lord Baron, I have not the lexicon nor etiquette to give proper accounting of myself and instead beg your indulgences. The ring and letter were both delivered to me offering little information. I cannot authenticate or guess the writers purpose."
"If I am of worth I am unaware of it, ask the letter sender before you decide."
Edward flushes blood rushing to the surface of his skin for a few moments he appears nearly alive, then he collapses on the floor.....
Bertrand grins and slips Benny the puppet from his pocket onto his left hand.
"Bravo". Benny exclaims his small hands clacking together.
Sir Edward of York steps forward and graciously bows. "My Lord, by your leave, may I speak to the issue? "
-Posted with Wayfinder
Perception+Empathy
On being given audience Sir Edward speaks, clearly and confidently addressing the Lord Baron and the Primogen. "My Lord, I must agree with Sire Ashlington's wise and passionate argument and I would be much surprised to find any cainite of proper standing that would disagree. This situation... must be dealt with. I am reminded of the problem of peasants. Filthy, stupid, poor, weak. Certainly not fit to sit in our halls and feast at our table." He says laughing at the absurdity of such a thought. "But I am also reminded that it is they who till the land, they mine our gold and silver, quarry the rock and build our fortresses." He pauses for a brief moment, allowing the realisation to set in. "By such reason I am loath to admit they have their uses, but they must be kept in their place! My Lord made mention of important matters, perhaps these..." he says gesturing to Edward, Bertrand and the others, "may be of some use. My Lord is well renown on the field of battle and naturally understands the usefulness of troops on the van(guard)..." he concludes with a half bow and an evil smile spreading across his face, not needing to elaborate on the life expectancy of such troops.
"Perhaps, such shall be sufficient to spare Edward's unlife. He shall be in my debt for the risk to my unlife to save his, which I hope shall be well worth the risk.
Perception + empathy
Edward makes no further action.....
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The Baron listens carefully at Edward's argument, once or twice even nodding in agreement:"Well spoken, ser. I tend to agree, at least partially. Yet we must consider not all peasants are equal. Some might have their uses, some others just need to be beaten... or put out of their misery, depending on how unruly they grow. So the question is, can we trust such as these with matters of importance?"
"As always, my Lord has the right of it. To merely beat them or put them out of their misery because they are what they is not our way. Perhaps not to go so far as to trust but mayhaps they be put to some sort of test. A task. One fitting of their stock that we may know their worth. If they be the wheat or the chaff." Edward says respectfully.
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The baron ponders a little more, then he gets to his feet:"On the matter of these low blooded cainites I find we have to take swift and decisive actions, but the waters are muddy, so to speak. On one side I have a letter from the esteemed lady Roberta Whitecliffe of the Toreador clan, who prays me to spare the unlife of the son of Malkav called Bertand Auton and names him her "envoy" at my Court "if I will have him". That a well known and refined lady from Queen Melusine's court deigns to invest time and resources on a madman stain credibility. Yet, the letter and the brooch I was given seem authentic to me" the Baron takes a couple of short steps on the left and then to the right of the dais, then continues.
"Then we have the matter of the Ravnos, Edouard Trebaol. He too claims he was sent as an envoy by lady Roberta, and has a ring that proves this, he says. Frankly this makes things not just unlikely, but outright unbelievable!"
The Baron pauses drammatically:"Then we must consider the opinions put forward by Ser Edward. He's of course right: we are not barbarians, we do not send to final death cainites just because they are low blooded. And yes, even low blooded cainites have their uses. The problem here is I don't know if these low blooded cainites are trustworthy. We all know the danger posed by those who call themselves Furores and would subvert the natural order of our society! My childe, the Sheriff claims these cainites can't be trusted and advocates for their destruction. Considering there's a very small chance their stories turn out to be true I can't be so neat, but I also can't completely deny him. So, here's my decision: Edoard Treabol of the line of Ravnos and Bertand Auton are to be taken into custody by the Sheriff and interrogated. Leland of York, my court wizard shall examine letter, ring and brooch to ascertain their provenience. If these two are indeed what they claim to be, then I shall find them a suitable place at my Court and a task within their abilities to perform, as ser Edward advocated. If not, the Sheriff's request will be granted. As for Festus the Caitiff, he will meet the sun this very morning"
The two Gangrel and the Sheriff seem rather satisfied by the Baron's ruling and advance to get hold of Edoard and Bertand. As they are on them something strange happens though, a voice, like dead leaves falling is heard in the hall, it's barely a wisper, but everyone can hear it clearly:"I fear that would be a mistake Baron. And you don't need some parlor tricks from a third rate wizard to ascertain the truth about the matter at hand. I can solve the riddle: the stories these two cainites told are true. I, Gariman, vouch for them." suddenly at the center of the hall a figure coalesces into a thin pallid man with a square jaw and few greish hair on the head wearing a pristine roman toga.
Silence falls on the hall, and even the Baron looks surprised, then the seneschal recovers and announces the newly arrived guest:Gariman the wise, childe of Caias, childer of Cappadocius"
Then the Baron recovers:"Gariman... it has been some time since you decided to give us the pleasure of your company. And you make such dramatic entrances... pray tell me, what light can you shed on this matter that is frankly starting to bore me?"
The Cappadocian stands still and answers with perfect calm:"The simple fact that I was contacted by Lady Roberta about a fortnight ago, and she asked me to keep an eye open for two of her envoys here in York. One was here already, the other would have arrived in some time, and lady Roberta feared they could not find the warm welcome one could expect of a distinguished court as this. It seems to me she was right. I saw with my eyes of the mind that lowly dog who serves your childe prepare to strike down the Malkavian, only fear stopping his claws. And a similar fate could be expected of the Ravnos, had he not the gall to stand up to that vixen called Runhild! And of course I come here at court to join my Baron and my esteemed peers from the Primogen, and I find the Sheriff trying to get these two executed for some completely ridicolous reason. So, my Baron, as a member of your Primogen Council I not only vouch for these cainites and ask you to spare their lives and allow them to serve. I also ask you to discipline your childe and his lowly servants!" Gariman finishes, no emotion toching his words.
For a moment only silence reigns in the hall, Baron John staring at the Cappadocian and Gariman standing perfectly still in the middle of the hall, then the Baron nods:"I see. Very well, it shall be as you ask, my wise consuellor. Come sit at your place and rest assured I shall make good to my word, these two envoys are accepted in my court and domain, and a chance to serve will be provided for them... shortly. As for my childe and his dogs, they will face punishment for their actions towards respectable cainites, I will personally see to it. But before that they shall dispose of Festus the Caitiff, as his no one vouched for him and we can't allow such mongrel lineages to sully our Barony."
At these words the caitiff screams and bolts towards the main door. Yet in an instant the vulpine Gangrel, Brunhild is on him, face distorted by rage and claws gleaming crimson in the light of the torches that lit the room. In but a blink of an eye she sanks her fangs in poor Festus' neck and with a wet sound followed by a sudden snap she ends his unlife.
The Baron shakes his head:"At least that is out of the way. I didn't think this minor charade would become such a mess. Please my dear guests, welcome Bertand Auton of Clan Malkavian and Edouard Trebaol of clan Ravnos among us. I shall continue with this evening procedings momentarily" so saying the Baron and the whole Primogen Council raise and move in the back of the hall, to discuss something with the new arrival, Gariman.
Edward walks up to the Toreador and exclaims, "Sir Lachlan Wemyss. You dare show your face." says Edward in a serious tone, his voice slightly raised, drawing the attention of a few nearby cainites. Suddenly he bursts out into a laugh. "How have you been keeping. I must say I am glad for our Lord's generosity" he says motioning towards the goblet, "for I fear if we were to be out hunting, that handsome face and superb charm of yours would have all the noble ladies and tavern wenches frolicking to you I would be near torpor from thirst." he jokes.
Edward turns to Bertand.....
"So are we free to speak with anyone or do we wait to be spoken to?....or are we free only to speak to each other or others who are of low clans?"
Edward scratches his head seemingly perplexed by it all.
Turning at the sound of his name, Wemyss sees the crusader, Edward. Bowing with a flourish, he exclaims, "Sir Edward! Yoo doo me great service in your assessment o' my looks an' charm. Tha's the reason I keep yoo so close. Yoor crooked nose drives the ladies to me." His own smile beaming in the light of the court, he returns his companion's jest. "Seriously, though, I have been well eno'. How fare yoo?"
Edward sighs. "The humans keep me busy. I try to improve their lot, to improve trade and I industry. Such subjects I find are beyond my understanding. I know how to tur a building into little stones but to the other way.... " he shrugs. "Fortunately I have one in my service who does understand such things and progress goes well."
Dropping his volume he asks, "Have you perhaps heard why Court has been called? Things do not seem as they have in the past. There is something different, though I am at a loss to identify it."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Bertrand replies to Edouard dropping his hands with both puppets back into his pockets, "Hi. I am Bertrand Auton. Are you sure you are not Malkavian? You were speaking in tongues and not making a lot of sense. I think we should let them approach us. There is a game here that is going on, I don't understand it yet but I am pretty sure what we just went through was all for show".
In response to Sir Lachland Wemyss Edward says, "I see, well we shall discover more before the end of this night. You must visit at Pons Belli, I should like you to see my arena and spar with me, you are known to have some skill with the blade." and excuses himself.
Edward approaches visiting knight, Lucien Arbaud, whom it is rumoured is of the Order of the Bitter Ashes. Not completely familiar with York Court tradition Edward bluntly says, "Sir, I do not believe we have been introduced, but as a fellow knight, if you forgive my etiquette, I thought it not completely out of place to introduce myself. I am Sir Edward of York of the clan Brujah, recently returned from the holy land" bowing at the end of his introduction. "How have you found your time in York thus far?"
Having heard the knight introduce himself, and some talk of proper etiqutte, Edouard places himself into the periferal vision of both Edward of York and Sir Lachland Wemyss.
There he waits for one or both of them to address him.
Bertrand laughs as Edouard silently excuses himself and shifts his attention to other members of the court. He whispers, "Yeah find out for me why that Edward spoke up for us and get back to me".
Bertrand approaches Leland of York who he has heard is a member of Clan Tremere. As he approaches Leland, Bertrand opens his mouth to speak but grins instead and begins to fidget. His fidget follows a specific series of hand patterns and gyrations, finally when he feels comfortable enough he speaks, "So I am Bertrand. Maybe you saw all that commotion over there. I don't think they want me here. What do you think? I've never met a Tremere before. Can you do some magic?!"
Bertrand's manner of questioning is rapid fire, he appears very anxious to even have to initiate a conversation.
Bertrand then begins to fidget again and reach for his hand puppets in his pockets but holds himself back. He is just one person I can talk to just one person.
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Lucien smiles at Edward:"Well met, clan mate. Never fear to present yourself boldly, only cowards and those who have something to hide shy away from their fellows! As for York... let's just say things seem to be rather interesting. The little charade our Host saw fit to show us was much entertaining, and I must say you spoke well, although there might be much to learn from the so called low clans cainites. Some have as much honor as any of us, and some of us have none. By the way... I cannot immagine someone as proud as our esteemed sheriff will accept this night's events with quiet contrition. From what I heard about the fellow, that's just not his way..."
Bertand finds the "court wizard" almost as shunned by the other cainites as he is, but he seems not to notice nor to care, being quite satisfied by the dismay he causes in others. As the Malkavian approaches and dares to talk to him Leland seems genuinely amused. Still sipping carmine vitae from a silvered goblet the Tremere answers:"So you are. And yes, I believe you are quite right, many here don't seem to like you or the Ravnos. It's the way things are... for the moment, at least. As for my clan and wether or not I can do true magic... that's actually a pretty complex question. Let's just say I can do things most cainites can't" so saying Leland puts the goblet on the table and points his index finger at Bertand. Suddenly a small flame bursts out of the finger ans stays there. As the wizard displays his ability you hear several shocked abd angry murmurs coming by the vampires nearby.
If I were to enter from whichever hallway I am in, would I pass by any torches? Need to know for my Harbinger of the Abyss flaw, which has a range of two yards.
Bertrand initially steps backwards in shock, slowly a smile spread across his face.
Quickly Jeny and Benny find their way out of Bertrand's pockets and onto his hands. "Bravo!" Jeny claps with a shrill feminine voice. "Encore!" encourages Benny.
Bertrand himself grins and places the puppets away. "Real magic". he gasps in awe. "You must show me how to do that. My Patron Alexander would be delighted to see such a show. I don't see why anyone should shun you, your powers are wondrous! In fact, I bet you could even find where the Nosferatu of the realm congregate, that would be a neat trick too! And maybe you could tell me where I could find the Gangrel, I still need to talk with them, since I am welcome in York now I could use a pet!"
Perception + alertness
Edward coughs once......
Edward makes a mental note of the flames produced and it reminds him of his father, then he wonders if the flames were real or illusions like he can make.....
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Leland's visage grows serious yet it seems to you his eyes glint strangely while you speak:"Now, now, little one... I might be able to do all those things... but you must know I already serve a master, and I really don't think he would be pleased if I teached you things you should not know. Knowledge is a fine thing... but it always neds to be earned and it's never free." then he relaxes and answers your other questions:[b]"As for nosferatu and gangrel... I cannot tell... the former probably infest the sewers of this fine city while the latter might haunt the woods. I hear they are a strange crossbred of man and lupine... or was it the other way around? Either way I doubt they make suitable pets for children... those two ugly brutes who mishandled you and your friend... those were gangrels. Now, my little friend, consider they are the most educated of the lot here in York... you see?"[b].
Apparently satisfied with his answer Leland returns to his blood-wine with a secret smile on his lips.
Edward considers what Lucien has said, "I must agree with you. On the field of battle I have seen the high born cower with fear and commit terrible atrocities while those of the common stock have performed admirably. Fighting bravely to their death, slaying many of better brith before leaving this world. I wonder sometimes if such is true of the low clans. They are shunned, but not without their own powers and abilities. The Sheriff. He is Ventrue after all. From what the Prince said, I believe this night shall prove to be very interesting. On a different note, I have built a Brujah training field in Pons Belli. It would be an honour to cross blades with you and hear your thoughts on it over a game of chess. Do you play?"
Bertrand nods at Leland, "Yes I understand, people they think I am a Madman so I can't be trusted. But look how these creatures in power act. Seeking to slay someone without judging their worth. That is true madness".
Bertrand pauses and closes his eyes, "Yes, yes. I shall seek out these less educated Gangrel, they might crazy like foxes".
Bertrand starting to feel a little comfortable with Leland he actually responded to Bertrand's questions after all points at the Cainites Leland's trick shocked and states probably too loudly, "Do you think they are angry cause they know if you felt like it you could just set them on fire and watch them burn with a flick of your finger?"
The roll is reflexive and mandatory. If I am sitting at a table, it would be for any near me, or if I get up to walk to the other PCs, any within 6 feet as I pass by them
Dropping his volume he asks, "Have you perhaps heard why Court has been called? Things do not seem as they have in the past. There is something different, though I am at a loss to identify it."
Leaning in, Lachlan replies, "I have heard that the lupines are gathering in numbers and his grace will no let the slight pass."
Saluting Edward with his goblet, Wemyss ripostes, "I would welcome the challenge o' your skill in bladework. We shall speak more anon."
Moving along, keeps an eye out for Lady Eleanor de Stuteville as he meanders about the hall.
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Lucien nods at Edward, somehow surprised:"So you build a sphairisteria. Nice. I thought there weren't many left who kept up with the old traditions. York seems to be a fortunate place, as I've been invited to visit Kalad's and it is pretty impressive, I must say, and that makes at least 2 Brujahs who remember. I will be gald to visit yours too, if chance brings me near the bridge of war" he finishes with a smile on his lips.
Leland considers Bertand again, then resolves to give him some more of his time, he makes sure no one is near, makes some quick gestures and then whispers:"You make strangely deep arguments, you know? Yes, it's true what you say. They dismiss someone or refuse make use of something just because they can't understand its value. And to answer your last question, my young friend: yes, but that's just a part of it. I can do things they can't, and that makes them nervous. They are creatures of habit, and presume they know the worth of something by just looking at it once, because of their supposedly superior blood. They like people telling them they are right... and despise being proven wrong. Keep these truths in mind and you might go a long way here in York, young one. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to upset some of them with my unholy ways" so saying Leland leaves his place and walks towards another table, black robe fluttering behind him.
Lachlan finds Lady Eleanor as beautiful as he remembered her, she sits with her Sire, Lady Sian Brach and her sibling ser Valmar Brach and they are chatting pleasantly. Once he's upon them she looks at Lachlan and smiles, while the other two stop chatting and wait for him to present himself.
Edward is torn between the coversation overheard and the magic witnessed.
Eventually he approaches the man who had produced the flame.....
"Excuse me please, the flames you made were they real?"
Lachlan finds Lady Eleanor as beautiful as he remembered her, she sits with her Sire, Lady Sian Brach and her sibling ser Valmar Brach and they are chatting pleasantly. Once he's upon them she looks at Lachlan and smiles, while the other two stop chatting and wait for him to present himself.
Lachlan bows before the lady and her childer. "Lady Brach, I am Sir Lachlan Wemyss, knight to his grace, Baron John."
Lucien nods at Edward, somehow surprised:"So you build a sphairisteria. Nice. I thought there weren't many left who kept up with the old traditions. York seems to be a fortunate place, as I've been invited to visit Kalad's and it is pretty impressive, I must say, and that makes at least 2 Brujahs who remember. I will be gald to visit yours too, if chance brings me near the bridge of war" he finishes with a smile on his lips.
"My sire..." Edward stumbles, "He was fascinated by the old ways. He would say that we must learn the lessons of our elders, their achievements, successes and failures. He also believed that only through bettering ourselves could we build a better society and avoid the failures of the past. Improving the lot of the kine is an important part of that. I have started training my peasants in archery and in more profitable professions. It is an interesting experiment."
Sensing his "time" with Leland has come to an end, Bertrand makes his way towards Alberto Giovanni keeping his head down and avoiding contact with any of the other Cainites in the room.
Bertrand grins and raises his hand hesitantly to shake with Alberto but then quickly lowers it, he fidgets and repeats the process a number of times. Finally frustrated he simply blurts out, "Hi I'm Bertrand. You are a Cappadocian right? Why do you think your Clansmen stepped in for me? I know he said he knows the Lady that gave me the letter but what is she to him? Your last name is Giovanni right? So I guess you are from Italy, what convinced you to make your way here? I was sent here and now I am kind of wishing I wasn't! What about you?"
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Leland seems rather occupied with the people he's talking with (about what you cannot say, it somehow eludes you, but the two vampires, both distinguished nobles by the clothes they wear, seem rather interessed in Leland's tale... if that's what it is). He just spares an irritated glance for Edouard:"Not now, young one. I've indulged the Malkavian but my time is precious. We could talk at a later time, maybe, but I need to speak with these worthies right now, so, if you would be so kind to give us some privacy..."
Eleanor blonde tresses shake as she giggles at Lachlan's approach, but her smile deepens even more, if possible, yet she's not the one who answers the knight but her sire, Lady Sian:"Yes, Ser, you are known to us. It's a pleasure, as always, to meet such a valiant knight. I gather you came to us to make a declaration of sorts reguarding what's going to happen when the Baron finishes explaining that... recluse what's been decided?", as she finishes the other two cainites look at Edward, Eleanor with a mix between admiration and worry, Valmar with something akin defiance.
Alberto Giovanni may not be the highest cainite in the hall, but his frame really seems mighty, his arms are thick with muscles and a wild black beard makes him appear even fiercer. An appearance barely hidden by the fine clothes he wears. As Bertand approaches he scoffs:"I don't know and I couldn't care less about Gariman and this lady of yours. As for me I came here to serve the clan, and House Giovanni. I deal in commerce, unlike so many of the clan I know the value of gold. If you have any we can continue this discussion, otherwise I suggest you return to your friend..."
Edward offers a bow and heads away....
As he looks around the room he decides that it's a bit odd for an individual to be present but also avoiding the interaction......
Edward approachs Vito...
"Are you just made as well? I am a bit perplexed."