It is a sunny morning with a cool breeze as the ships pull in to the docks at Biggenham, the largest port city on Valania. You make your way off the decorated ships, noticing red, pink and white pennants flapping in the breeze. Taking a glance around, you see that there are far more women than men waiting for the large carriages that begin pulling up. Grizzled fishermen on an opposing dock stare at the tourists and spit in the water. White horses with pink ribbons in their manes tow gilded carriages made to carry eight to ten people.
As you are escorted to the waiting area, you are assaulted by felt, taffeta and feathers from some poor bird who probably did not witness the indignity of seeing them dyed in horrid colors. Women push past you with disregard, dusting up their finery in the process. Whether you protest or not is of little difference, as old friends chat, children yell and men boast about how their conquests will go. Your voice is lost in a sea of others, further making this an unpleasant experience.
Finally, you board one of the eight carriages and make your way to Strotfeld. The trip is quite scenic, but boring. Your fellow passengers seem too self-absorbed to talk to you and the fat woman who inexplicably sat next to you, forcing your leg into the carriage door, heaves breaths that smell oddly like roasted pig and carrots.
It it midday when the carriage pulls into the unloading area. You gratefully step out of the carriage and rub your sore leg. People shuffle about anxiously as a troupe of eight women of different races approach dressed in pastel pink dresses.
"Welcome one and all to our annual celebration of the great Bill Quiverpike," one of them announces. "We are your ever-faithful tour guides who will be available to address any of your needs. We strongly suggest that you seek your lodgings first. We have quite a few serviceable inns around Strotfeld. We are also forced to inform you that the neighboring town of Blackshire has begun offering amenities this year."
You can see the tour guide's face sour at the mention of Blackshire, but her demeanor quickly changes as she continues her announcement. "We remind you that weapons are not permitted within Strotfeld, so please secure these in your lodging. Also, no outside food or drink may be brought on the premises. Our bakers and cooks work really hard to provide you with quality foods, so please support them. Finally, the fireworks over the river will begin promptly at dusk, so if you'd like to watch them, we recommend finding a comfortable spot early."
The tour guides depart, leaving the amassed people to find their lodging. Several carriages bear people back and forth, though the drivers for the ones going to Blackshire look rather suspect.
Once you have decided upon your lodging and stowed any "contraband", you make your way back to Strotfeld. There is a large, elegant sign reinforcing what the tour guide told you in bold, red letters. Next to that sign is a schedule of events.
2nd of Blossoming:
Opening ceremony at noon in front of the Quiverpike Fountain. Merchant stalls, matchmakers and mediums open for business.
Afternoon Shows: "Two Fishmongers from Dunbarrow" at the East Pavilion. "How to Love a Difficult Woman" at the West Pavilion.
Sunset: Grand Tour of Quiverpike's Home Giveaway! At the Quiverpike Fountain.
Dusk: Fireworks Over the Avern River.
Evening Shows: "Big Trouble Over Nothing" at the East Pavilion. "Hubert the XVII" at the West Pavilion.
Merchants, matchmakers and mediums close after the evening shows.
Late Show (no children allowed!): "Rovagug and Juniper" at the East Pavilion. Banned in 20 cities! Come see it now!
After looking over the schedule, you walk into the village proper shortly before noon. The houses are all painted in various pastels and there do not appear to be any commoners about. You pass by a couple of stern paladins of Abadar, looking quite uncomfortable in there decorated uniforms of pink and red. You also see clerics of Shelyn and Erastil, dressed in similarly-colored cassocks talking with various people.
Bending his severely ectomorphic frame to rub the sorely bruised shin his bench-mate left him as a parting 'gift', Vinccenso pondered the hostess recommendations.
I already made my reservations with La Maison de la Joi you silly woman...
Hefting his travelling pack once more to his back, Vinccenso made his way to the respective house of rest. Setting it down rather more forcefully than intended as he finally made his way through the Que to the front desk. " Vou le, avec...
ahem,
you have a room reservation for 'Vinccenso Pruffi'?"
"I'm here."
Once the requisite confirmations are made, Vinccenso accepts the key for his room, hears whatever blandishments he is given for appropriate behavior & times for use of the baths & indulges in minor flirtations with the hotel staff; before finally making his way to his room, laying his belongings down & taking out his notebook, pen and ink, and bedroll.
Well, I won't be needing this for for a while at least...
On the other hand, I suspect it will be a might more comfortable than resting my buttocks on the bare ground come the fireworks display this evening.
Fireworks...
Shaking his head, Vinccenso makes his way back out the door, makeshift seat-cushion slung over his shoulder & notebook in hand, humming pleasantly to himself.
Narrowing his eyes as he observed the many others in their 'sparking best' as Annalisse might have put it, Vinccenso considered his own somewhat travel worn garments.
Tomorrow, I shall definitely have to remember to memorize both Mending as well as Prestidigitation...
Not much I can do about the style I suppose.
With a significantly lighter step, Vinccenso returns to the schedule of the day's events.
Ithelien steps easily out of the carriage, grinning broadly. His sapphire eyes slowly play over the scene of the city, taking it all in with a delighted twinkle. "My goodness. It certainly is... fancy." Gaudy was too strong a word, but it was a bit... much, in the elf's opinion. "Well, let's see what mischief we can get up to, shall we?"
After a long, boring ride with only the fat lady to flirt with, Ithelien is ready to move on. Not that he had anything against the fat lady, of course. Lovely woman, her. But still, one desires a little variety, does one not?
Making his way to The Bald Bard's Inn and Tavern with a jaunty bounce in his step, he asks the owner, "Beg pardon, but do you permit independent freelancing bards to, oh... what is that charming human phrase... ah, of course, 'sing for their supper,' as it were? I'm quite willing to pay, of course, but I haven't performed in days, and I'm getting the itch to do so again."
"Ah, it is always good to see that the most lovely of ladies, such as yourself," He winks flirtatiously, "have such good taste! Music, my dear, is the core of all romance."
Upon leaving the fine inn, he will make his way to the Quiverpike fountain, then generally be sociable, flirting with any woman who seems mildly interested, teasing men who seem attracted to him because he himself looks like a woman, and a rather pretty one at that, and generally just having fun! After the Opening Ceremony, he'll continue just wandering and flirting, until Sunset, at which point he'll return to the Quiverpike fountain, then he'll move on to the Fireworks and the Rovagug and Juniper show.
|
After her uncomfortable experience in the carriage, the half-elven Keeper of the City dusts herself off and lets the crowds and bustle of Strotfeld wash over her. Fiona feels attuned to the town and most of the 'tour guide's' speech is lost on her-- it's not that she doesn't pay attention, but she feels as if she'd heard it before.
Seeking lodging at the Bald Bard after seeing the garish opulence of the La Maison de la Joi, she shyly watches a lithe elven woman with long silver hair flirt openly with the female innkeeper. This was definitely a much different kind of town than she'd expected!
She places a payment for the rest of the week and scurries up to her room. Fiona hadn't brought much, but she secures it, and contemplates bringing her bow anyways into the town-- after all, she was a Keeper and a Keeper needed a weapon. Finally, she relents after a mental battle with herself and simply slips a dagger into the sheathe on her back, hiding it under her thick enchanted cloak.
Checking herself in the reflection bouncing off the window, she rights her piercings and the yellow bandanna that held back her wild red hair. Fiona was short-- a trait her mother attested to the elven aging cycle being remarkably slow-- and it made her feel childish. The facial tattoo and the elven runic markings running down her arms held that feeling at bay, and she made sure to adjust her armor and clothing so some of them were visible. As she checked her face for dirt and swept her hair back a second time, she paused. What was she looking for here? Fiona had come up here under the guise of investigating history, witnessing a few very well done plays and perhaps heading home with a few good memories. She hadn't realized that everyone else here was, perhaps, looking for a spouse. Was she? Perhaps that was the real reason she had come. She tried to banish the thought from her mind, and set out into Strotfeld proper.
Too shy to bounce her way into a conversation or a half-full table, Fiona avoids mediums, matchmakers and the merchants until she sees something she can't help but gush over-- a lavish dress shop with, in the window, the most beautiful pink frilly thing that had ever existed. Her excitement piques and she stares at it for a few short moments, letting the crowd bustle by. But, truth be told, who would she wear this dress for? She had the gold, but lacked the motive-- no one to compliment her except for the desperate people she was currently surrounded by, and did she want that kind of attention? No doubt if there were men here they were the kind who would engage in shameless tawdry flirting, not overly romantic gestures. Plus, she was here to watch the plays and visit the historic venues that were lost on the normal rabble. She passes it by, wandering aimlessly.
Fiona wastes an hour praying in an alleyway, sitting on a barrel, letting her soul soak in Strotfeld. With barely enough time to spare, she finds her way across town and sits in on How to Love a Difficult Woman, noting in several occasions that fiction sometimes imitated life.
Making plans to visit Rovagug and Juniper and Big Trouble Over Nothing, she's of course going to visit the fountain-- if she's chosen to enter the house, it would be a historic experience above all others.
As Tesia steps off the ship she takes in a deep breath of sea air and tries to relax. What have you gotten me into mother? A young man comes out of the cargo hold with a beautiful black and tan stallion. After handing the reigns to her he turns to leave. Oh, wait. Here let me give you something for your trouble. She pulls a silver piece out of her pouch and hands it to him. Thank you and have a safe trip back. He smiles awkwardly, bows, and takes his leave.
She receives some odd looks as she mounts her horse in her full Paladin of Erastil attire. Tesia doesn't seem to mind the looks as she makes sure her belongings are stored safely around her on her steed. Having no extra clothing with her with give her a chance to enjoy some shopping while at the festival. As she rides behind one of the carriages she enjoys the scenery and the wind blowing through her long dark hair. Her deep blue eyes take in the surrounding area. maybe this won't be so bad after all. I am quite overdue for a vacation anyways.
After arriving in town and getting some peculiar looks from the commoners as well as the guards, Tesia decides to head over to Le Maison de la Joie so that she may store some of her attire and weaponry. She sees to the stabling of her horse personally, giving the stable boy a gold piece to insure the proper care of her mount and friend, Blaze. Once this is done she enters the Inn and heads for the counter. Excuse me miss, I was hoping to purchase a room for the month and stabling for my steed. Would 100 gold be enough? She speaks quietly with the Inn Keeper.
Once her business is settled she goes up to her room to get ready for the evening. She stores away her warhammer and her shield and starts pulling her grooming supplies out of her backpack. After getting cleaned up and dabbing on a bit of perfume she heads out into the town to see what kind of shops she can find and some entertainment. Tesia goes to look for a clothing store or a tailor that can make her some festival finery. Once she is properly attired she will head to the fountain, find something to eat, fill her waterskin with something good to drink, and enjoy the late show.
You turn away from the scene and look to the innkeeper, a large woman who has simply lived with the best that life has to offer. Her immense bosom quivers as she flips through the pages. She looks at you with a condescending look.
"What was that, sir? Porfi? Pruffelo? Puffin? Ah, here we are. Pruffi. Room 26. Enjoy your stay."
You get settled in your room, a lavish affair. The bed is covered in silken sheets, the bathtub gilded and an assortment of fine cheeses and wine on a nightstand. You make your way back to the festival grounds. You are waved in with no problem by a rather unhappy guard. You walk around seeing the sights, but waiting for a delightful companion proves to be futile. But fortune does not disregard you altogether. You spy a young elven woman dressed in a long blue dress, adorned with fancy jewelry sitting on a stool outside on of the mystics' tents. A look of sadness is upon her face.
Pondering Blackshire for a moment, you remember a story about the town who had suffered due to Strotfeld's success. In order to regain it's tourism, the mayor of Blackshire petitioned the baron to include the town in Strotfeld's festivities. Unfortunately, you've heard that Blackshire also has a thieves' guild.
You enter The Bald Bard's Inn and Tavern, its rustic appearance quite charming. You approach the female innkeeper and plead your case. As you flirt with her, she puts a hand on your cheek.
"My dear and lovely sir. I have managed this inn for quite a long time. I have heard the very words of Quiverpike himself begging for my braised beef. I have tired of genteel words and all this peacocking about. If you wish to perform, speak with Alvain in the back. Be warned, he is a diva to the utmost degree, but I am sure that he could use another act for tomorrow."
She hands you your room key. "Your payment is due at the end of the week."
You go to your room. It is a simple affair. The bed has fine cotton sheets and there is a pitcher with water on a nightstand. You stow your belongings, save your dagger and wand, and make your way back to the festival for the opening ceremony.
As you approach the guard, he deftly clinches the collar of your shirt and withdraws your dagger and wand. "What's this then? What part of 'no weapons' was unclear to you, sir? I don't know where you came from and I don't rightly care. So I'll be holding on to these until you leave for the day."
The guard releases you and you scurry off after your chastisement. You approach the fountain and wait for the speaker to begin. As you wait, a little elven girl approaches you with painted cheeks and a play wand in her hand.
"I'm Tiphony, Queen of the Faeries. Who are you supposed to be, mister?"
Her mother quickly approaches and apologizes profusely. "I'm sorry if Dienne bothered you, sir. What have I told you about talking to strangers?"
The little girl's eyes well up. "But...mommy... he looked like a nice guy. I know you've been looking since daddy died."
A flush of embarrassment crosses the woman's face as she grabs Dienne's wrist and disappears into the crowd. The speaker, a portly elder human in a green jacket, finally takes the stage at the fountain.
"Welcome once again to the Quiverpike Festival. Bill was a good friend of mine and I am honored to showcase his great works to all. I hope you enjoy yourselves and find what fate has in store for you. May it all be pleasant."
A group of jugglers and acrobats then take the stage and perform some tricks. After that, the ceremony ends and you go about your business. As you walk around the stalls, with merchants hawking their wares. You see Dienne and her mother perusing the flowers of a nearby stand.
You head back to the festival. After watching the guard pull a dagger and a wand from that same silver-haired elf from the inn and sending him off, you approach the gate. The downcast guard looks you over for a moment, but finding nothing, waves you inside. You pass by the stalls before looking at the dress. You see a paladin with a silver symbol of Erastil browsing the dresses as well.
You head to the show, lost in thought. With your eyes on the pavement, you don't notice when you bump into a gentleman, a human with golden blond hair and green eyes. A pendant of a simple silver leaf hangs from his neck. With the rest of his attire, it looks out of place. You make to apologize but he overrides you.
"A woman has a right to have her mind on other things. I should have been more careful."
He gives you a small but sincere smile before walking away. You sit and watch the show, a good performance but the woman playing the Difficult Harridan surely overacted. You make your way to the fountain for the drawing.
The innkeeper, a woman with an immense quivering bosom, gladly takes you money and calls for a stableboy and a porter. They both bow to you and the stableboy runs outside to tend to your horse. The porter makes small talk as he takes your belongings from you. Despite your protests, he seems eager to carry your baggage.
"Madame Fortine appreciates folks who are generous. You wouldn't believe how many people scrape and save to stay here, only to have nothing else for the festival. It's kind of sad."
You are shown your room, a fancy one indeed. There are silken sheets on the bed, a gilded bathtub and a tray of cheese and wine on the nightstand. The porter helps put your things away before bowing and leaving.
You get ready to head to the festival and lock your room as you depart. As you approach the gate, the guard checks your waterskin, gives you a smile and waves you in. You take in the sights and sounds. Children run about, their cheeks sticky from the sweets the merchants are selling. You peruse the stalls and stands. You see a forlorn woman look at a lavender dress before walking away.
You catch sight of a tailor's shop. You enter and a rosy-cheeked gnome approaches you.
"Welcome to Nadine's! Oh, you look like you could use a wonderful dress. Indeed, indeed! Come, come, let's get you out of that."
You let the gnome work her magic, literally. With a flurry of needles and thread, she puts you in a light scarlet dress in a matter of minutes.
"That'll be 25 gold. I hope you think it's great. Oh, where are you staying? I can have this armor of yours sent there on the house."
Regardless of his armed state, he winks at the woman before she leaves. At the mention of her husband's death, he winces, pain searing his heart. Taking a few deep breaths, Ithelien represses it, then pays quiet attention to the young man on the stage. He nods slowly, arching a brow. Most intriguing. Mayhap he'd speak with that fellow again soon.
Singing quietly to himself, Ithelien moves on. Upon meeting Dienne and her mother again, he smiles, waving a little to the girl, and winking mischievously at her mother. This festival promised to be most interesting. "Good day, fair ladies. How are the two of you?"
Tesia takes a look at herself in the mirror and twirls around. She is stunned at the beauty of the dress and how well it fits to her shape. Never having taken the time during her years of adventuring to enjoy gatherings or parties, she never before owned such a dress. Her eyes mist a little as she looks towards Nadine.
"This is the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. I have never owned anything this nice. I only hope I don't mess it up. I absolutely love it and its worth every gold. Thank you so very much. I'll be sure to visit you again. I'm sure I'll need more than just one dress since I'm planning on staying for the entirety of the festival."
She giggles quietly and blushes a bit at the sight of herself. Forgetting herself for a minute she almost forgets to give the tailor the name of the Inn shes staying at.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I just got caught up for a moment. I'm staying at
Le Maison de la Joie. I really appreciate you sending my things over there for me. I didn't want to have to miss the entertainment. I hear these plays are very well done. I've never actually been to one before. This is my first vacation in a very long time, and I'm really looking forward to the break. Sorry, I'm babbling. Thanks again for the dress. I'll definitely be back."
She leaves the shop and just wonders around for a while trying to take everything in and seeming a bit lost as what to do. She can't help but think about her best friend and how much she would have loved to come to something like this. Tesia is filled with a sense of loss and wonders if this festival will really start to help her heal.
Tesia wonders around for a bit longer, a sad look crosses her delicate features before she finds a place to eat at and fill her waterskin. She does feel lonely, but she doesn't regret the choices shes made so far. For now she is just going to enjoy herself and the festivities and let fate take its course, whatever it may be.
"Aye, you think I was born with a potato for a mind, eh?" the guard says in reply. He waggles the wand and produces an amulet from beneath his chain shirts. [b]"I know what this does, 'tis no prop. We'd be in a proper mess if we didn't have ways of figuring this out. As for your dagger, our restaurants provide silverware for your meals."
He appraises the dagger for a moment. "Unless, of course, you eat people. Daggers ent shaped for cutting regular meat. Are you one o' those deviants, sir? I'll let you have it, but if I hear anyone's been stabbed, I'll be looking for you."
***
You approach Dienne and her mother. Dienne smiles as you greet them, but her mother gets flushed again. "I'm fine an' mommy's fine, she's a little shy."
Her mother clears her throat before speaking, clearly taken aback by the wink. "Ah...we meet again...I, er, my name is Maurenne...Gah...not a very nice sounding name, I know...Oh, forgive me, sir!"
Dienne giggles at her mother's inability to speak properly, which prompts a stern look from Maurenne. "She hasn't spoken to a man since daddy."
"Dienne! Please stop," Maurenne says, aghast.
"Maybe the nice man might buy you a lunch or a pretty flower. That's what you're supposed to like, right?"
"Excuse me," Maurenne says, taking her daughter by the hand again. "I think my daughter needs a meal. Hopefully, we will trouble you no more."
She heads toward one of the restaurants a little ways off.
"Oh, forgive me, madam," the woman says, clearly flustered. "I...oh..."
"Don't worry about mommy, lady. She had a hard time talking to a man she met. That's a pretty dress. Bye now," the little girl says.
They head into the restaurant in haste.
|
|
Now, of course, she was running into people. Her stammered apology was overridden by the man`s chivalrous, if old fashioned, declaration. He leaves, but she watches for moment. Noting his pendant, she wonders perhaps if he is a druid or practitioner of the green faith or Gozreh, but has little time to linger lest she miss the next part of the festival.
"I am Ithelien Nacia, it is a pleasure to meet you, Dienne, Maurenne." He smiles charmingly at them, bowing gracefully before taking their hands one at a time and kissing each. "And there is nothing to forgive. Your name is lovely, and I think it suits you." The bard laughs musically, then lets the two leave, seeking his fun elsewhere, though his eyes follow Maurenne's backside appreciatively. Moving on, he wanders over to a place to eat, in the same direction as the mother/daughter pair, incidentally, this is the same place as the lady paladin visits!
Ithelien wanders into the same restaurant as Tesia, singing quietly to himself as he takes in the environment. A small smile flutters on his features, and it broadens into a grin when he notices the half-elf woman, winking at her flirtatiously. Moving towards her, he sweeps a bow.
Tesia thrown off by the woman bumping into her cocks an eyebrow up in suprise. She regains her composer soon enough to respond to the childs strange statement.
Looking down at the child Tesia speaks in a soft voice."Thats okay honey. There are alot of people around so make sure you stay close to your momma." Tesia looks back up at the woman."Nothing to worry about, I wasn't really watching where I was going anyways. Have a nice dinner."
Again Tesia is taken by surprise as she is approached by either a handsome male, or somewhat attractive female. She looks around as if surprised that someone is actually talking with her. She looks around to see if perhaps he is addressing someone else before making a fool out of herself.
Tesia regards the gentleman for a moment, looking into his eyes with her own deep blue ones before making a slight curtsy. A slight troubled look crosses her features before she bows her head to him.
Noticing the familiar pair, he waves at them again, laughing quietly to himself. Fancy meeting them here! Ithelien returns his none-too-serious flirtatious regard to Tesia.
Hmm ... Beth yw pobl yn hoffi i ddweud?..
Sut mae'r diwrnod ddod o hyd i chi?..
How does the day find you?..
As far as Vinccenso can tell, there is no apparent reason to her sadness. She looks up when he begins his humming. "Glacaim leis nach bhfuil tú ceoltóir."
Slipping into Common, she continues. "If you're looking to have your fortune told, you can't have it done here."
***
Meanwhile, in the restaurant, Ithelien and Tesia sit down to nice meal of roasted duck in a light wine sauce, buttered greens and a frosty mug of ale. Ithelien notices Dienne giving him a smile and Tesia dirty looks, switching between the two at random, until Maurenne takes control of her daughter and makes her focus upon the meal.
She blushes slightly at his mention of her beauty unsure of how to respond to his compliment.
"Why, thank you. It is nice to meet you Ithelien. As you can tell I do indeed have the elven blood in me and my father was human and he was indeed lively. Tell me, what brings you here? Are you perhaps waiting to meet someone for lunch?
A strange look passes over her face at mentioning her father, but it passes quickly.
Tesia decides to just try and enjoy the lovely meal with Ithelien and have some conversation and ignore the dirty looks that are being sent her way.
Ithelien smiles reassuringly at Dienne, eyes twinkling. He makes a quiet soothing gesture as he returns his eyes to Tesia, just in time to notice her odd expression. Deciding politely not to pry, he
Switching to speaking in Common out of a general politeness to the entire room, he shakes his head. "No, not really. Just..." He pauses, wondering what exactly his reasons were for coming here. "I am here because my steps took me here. Plus, I met a very interesting lady, so it cannot be all bad... Tell me, o most illuminating light of wonder, why so serious?" He grins at her, clearly aware that he is layering it on a bit thick. " This is a wondrous festival that could be dedicated to-" Ithelien falters, smile failing for a moment, before returning so swiftly one must wonder whether he was ever unsmiling. "The lady of love, Shelyn! Are you not enjoying yourself?" The bard leans forwards, grinning mischievously. "Because that's pretty easily rectified..." He trails off, letting her take from his statement what she will.
Leaning back he sighs, as he begins eating, pondering the events of the day thus far, content to gaze at Tesia with bright sapphire eyes, occasionally sending a reassuring glance to the mother/daughter pair.
"Finally!"
If the carriage journey would have ended any later, it would probably have ended rather unpleasantly; Either Évelyne would have suffocated to death from being crushed against the carriage door by the fat woman or she would have enchanted her to jump off the carriage. Fortunately for all involved, the other woman leaves the carriage as soon as it has stopped, letting Évelyne breathe properly for the first time after boarding the carriage.
She notes the disbalanced gender ratio as she steps out and looks around, but it doesn't bother her much; Being a Lamashtan cleric doesn't mesh well with being picky. Slowly, stopping once in a while to examine something that catches her interest, she makes her way towards the Bald Bard Inn, the concourse of the fesival being rather jarring for someone accustomated to living in the countryside.
Upon finally arriving to the inn, she doesn't spend much time there besides what is needed for renting a room, changing her clothes and leaving her falchion into a wardrobe, instead deciding spend the time before the giveaway at the fountain to familiarize herself with the town. Perhaps she would see something (or someone!) unexpected. After all, she can't be the only freak in this town, can she?
She chuckles lightly to herself before replying.
"Well, aren't we the smooth talker?" She smiles slightly at him, noticing that he keeps looking at the pair of mother and daughter that ran into her earlier.
"You know, I'm not sure why I came here either. It was more of a favor to my mother. She practically insisted that I come. Seeing as how I have not had a vacation in a very long time and I had never been here before, or to any festival for that matter, I decided to take her advice."
She stares down at her plate contemplating if she should say more or if shes already said too much. She knows that she tends to babble on at times, but he seems easy to talk to. She pauses to enjoy some of her meal and hearty ale before continuing.
"It's not that I'm not enjoying myself. I mean, do you see this dress?! I have never in my life owned anything this fine. I guess its just been so long since I've actually had any fun that I forgot how to enjoy myself. Are you going to be going to the show later? I was thinking about attending it myself, but it would probably be more enjoyable in the company of another. But if there is someone you would rather go with,She makes a slight nod of her head toward the pair sitting at the other table."then that would be fine as well. Whatever your wish."
She sits quietly pondering the days events so far and enjoys the rest of her meal.
Ithelien smiles broadly, nodding. "I did notice the dress. It is quite lovely, and I think it suits you." His smile turns teasing. "But to which show do you refer? The only one I was planning on going to, I could not dare bring my dear little friend Dienne, as it is forbidden for the children to watch." The bard pauses. "Perhaps I could perform for the three of you instead of going there? You all seem like fun people, and I'm sure that we could have a grand time together!" He smiles. With that, perhaps Dienne and Maurenne would not be hurt by his nature... And they might even have fun! Perhaps it would make him less a potential mate, painful though the thought was to admit. His lips curl upwards, and he laughs aloud at himself.
Évelyne makes her way around the festival grounds, seeing all manner of people cavorting and smiling. She passes by the seer's tents and sees a man with bad humming trying to drum up a conversation with a melancholy elf. Going by the merchant's stalls, she spies a silver-haired elf chatting with a woman and her daughter, before rushing off to flirt with a lady in red. She stops at the showing of "How to Love a Difficult Woman", seeing a rather dour half-elf watching the show as if something else was on her mind.
The people watching loses its novelty after a while. They seem stuck at one end of two extremes: happy or sad. Soon the sun begins to set and she makes her way to the fountain for the giveaway. She makes her way into the crowd, gathered as a man in a gaudy purple suit takes the stage.
She considers his offer for a moment while finishing her food and ale. She motions for one of the waiters to come over so that she can have her drink refilled.
"Would you care for another ale as well Ithelien? Its my treat."
As she waits for the waiter to come over to their table she again addresses her companion.
She slightly raises one of her eyebrows as she looks at Ithelien.
"Ah, so you're a performer then are you? While I wouldn't mind seeing you perform, I was really looking forward to seeing his plays. I heard they are actually quite marvelous. Some of the actors may seem slightly pretentious, but overall a pretty good show. Maybe we could go to one of the earlier shows with them, if they want to. And then we could see the late show? We could save your particular talents for....another time perhaps?"
She smiles then at him and all the hard lines that were in her face a while ago seem to disappear and she actually looks as if she is starting to relax. She lets him contemplate her proposal while she tries hailing a passing waiter for more drink.
Ithelien contemplates the half-elf's offer, weighing the benefits and finding no real flaw in this plan, other than the sorts that provided more amusement... so long as no one's feelings got hurt. He grins, shrugging the feeling away and putting even more effort into being the harmless (but still very likable and attractive) flirt.
"Why yes, that is quite a good idea! I would imagine that you haven't had the chance to see his works, have you? I was quite surprised when they made it to my homeland, and even more surprised when my teachers in the halls of song organized some of their curricula around them. Of course, I didn't take any of the theater classes myself, so I only watched the performance-" He falters, again, smile fading momentarily, before it relights his face. "The performances, a few times myself. Quite good, if I am any judge... But then, illusionary magic is superior to any sort of makeup, so I suppose that's understandable." He laughs again, absently tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. "And I would quite appreciate an ale, if you do not mind."
She seems pleased by his reply as she motions to the waiter for two ails.
"I haven't seen much of anything really that isin't battle related as of late. This is really my first time in a few years of just taking some time for myself and enjoying the things and people around me."
She smiles at him appreciatively. Surprised by the fact that he never took any theater classes and still seems to be such a charmer. this better be my last ail for a while or I might say something I'll come to regret later
"So, how many of his shows have you seen? Do you think they are as good as everyone says?"
She regards him with a slight smile that plays at the corners of her mouth.
As Ithelien and Tesia finish up their meal, they hear a clanging bell and the waiters politely begin to usher patrons out the door. "It's time for the drawing. Head to the fountain while we clean up and we will reopen afterwards."
With smiles and waving hands, the staff exhales an audible sigh of relief as the last of the patrons leave. Maurenne approaches Ithelien, looking a Tesia with somewhat of a heartbroken look.
"Dienne insists that we three go to the drawing together, Ithelien. I hope you don't mind," Maurenne says, clearly put out. Dienne peers from behind her mother's skirt.
"You might be a nice lady, but you can find another man," the little girl says, addressing Tesia. She then sticks her tongue out at the paladin before hiding behind her mother again.
Maurenne looks at Tesia. "I am awfully sorry. Dienne seems smitten by Ithelien and I...I don't mean to get in the middle...of anything. She's a good girl, don't take what she says to heart."
"But I do mean it, mommy!" Dienne says from behind her mother.
"Hey, I'm going to the fountain after lunch for the drawing. Would you be interested in going as well? Festivals are more fun when you spend it with someone, don't you think so?"
She looks down at the little girl a little disapprovingly. She speaks with a soft but stern voice at the child.
"You know sweetheart, its not really nice to talk to someone like that. You could hurt someones feelings. I'm sure you wouldn't like it if someone talked to you like that, would you? Besides,"looking at Ithelien with amusement,"I just met this nice man and we are just friends, so there shouldn't be a problem with us all going to the fountain together. Isin't that right Dienne?"
She looks back at the mother to see how she responds to her gently scolding her child's rude behavior.
Oh dear, how terribly predictable. Ithelien offers a bright grin to Tesia, turning it to Maurenne and Dienne after a moment.
"I'm sure we can all get along, though." Ithelien smiles warmly at the child, patting her head, then winks at her mother. "We should all go to the fountain together, yes? That way we can all have even more fun. I mean, who wouldn't have fun when surrounded by three beauties?" He pauses. I mean, we're all very fortunate, given that every one of us is so beautiful. Especially me." He says, utterly serious as tosses his silver hair, creating a beautiful shimmering effect along its length. After a moment, though, he bursts out laughing. "Sorry, I try to say that with a straight face, but it never works. Come on, everyone... To the fountain!" He offers his hand to Dienne, adorable child that she is, and winks his thanks to Tesia.
"Ah," Maurenne stammers. "Of course, we're just friends here. So let's go together. Right, Dienne?"
"But, mommy!" the little girl protests.
"That's enough, Dienne! I'm sure Ithelien doesn't want to be told who to go with," Maurenne interrupts, sternly.
"I hope I'm not being forward," he says, eyes meeting yours then darting to the ground. "But I just happened to see you admiring this dress and I wanted to give it to you. I am not in the habit of approaching strangers, by the way, I just...well, you had a look in your eyes that I am familiar with."
He pauses for a moment. "Let me say no more. I just hope that you take this. This festival...er, they say you should just follow your heart. Perhaps that's what I'm doing."
He gently hands you the package, you can see the lavender material poking from beneath the wrapping. "Perhaps I'll see you again. I'd like to, if you let me. Oh, I haven't introduced myself...I am Wilford Faulkes. I'm a bit taken aback by this whole gala that I'm forgetting myself. Would you tell me your name? If I don't see you again, I would have at least something from this trip."
The group of Ithelien, Tesia, Maurenne and Dienne make their way to the large crowd by the fountain, awaiting the drawing. People shuffle and murmur as the man in the purple outfit looks over the crowd.
"A few more minutes all," he hollers. "We're just waiting for the few stragglers."
Ithelien's omnipresent smile flickers, and he closes his eyes. It was clear these two desired more from a relationship than he is able to give. Kneeling down next to Dienne, he hugs her quietly. "I'm sorry." He murmurs to her, voice raw with sadness. After a moment, he stands, doing the same to Maurenne, and repeating the phrase. He moves back, again the harmless, cheerful flirt. "In any case, I'm sure we'll get lucky, won't we? I mean, the heroes always do." He winks at Tesia, clearly joking.
He turns his attention to the man, eyeing him with an air of excitement. A historic bard's hometown, his valued possessions, everything... This place was amazing!
The little girl looks crestfallen as Ithelien apologizes. Maurenne looks slightly relieved.
"She has been this way since we left Corona...after her father died," she whispers in Ithelien's ear. "I thought she would choose to remember her father but she was only twenty when...they came. Sorry, I should not trouble you with this."
Maurenne pulls away from Ithelien, takes a hold of Dienne and leaves. Ithelien watches her for a moment as she walks out the gate.
You look across the stage and see a peculiar hooded figure in the sea of people. There is no mistaking the ebon skin and the cruel smile that crosses her face when she sees you looking at her.
As Tesia watches Maurenne and Ithelien talk she takes the time to address the child.
"Listen, I know it can seem hard sometimes, but you really need to let your mamma figure things out for herself. You can't force her into something if she isn't ready for it. I can understand why you feel the way you do about Ithelien. I mean he seems like a nice enough guy, but this is only our first day here and there's plenty of people to meet and plenty of time to meet them. Just give her a chance to figure it out. I'm sure she'll find someone that's just wonderful, for both of you."
She tries to smile reassuringly at the child to let her know there are no hard feelings. Aside from a couple of brief visits to some orphanages with her mentor in the early part of her training, Tesia has had little experience dealing with children and thinks of them as sort of a small adult and it's obvious in the way that she speaks to them, as if they are on the same emotional and mental level as an adult. She doesn't mean any harm, its just that even though she's a Paladin of Erastil who stands for family values and such, she still doesn't appear to tolerate a child's rude behavior very well.
Tesia sort of stands off to the side and lets Ithelien and Maurenne talk for a while before approaching to voice her thoughts on the drawing.
Before she can actually say anything she sees maurenne run off with her daughter. She looks at Ithelien with puzzlement.
"Well, well, well..." He says softly, eyes fixed on a face in the crowd. "Why do you suppose there's a drow here?" Ithelien nods towards the ebon face he noticed, voice quiet. "And... Perhaps I should go follow them..." He begins to move. "Just in case of an ambush... Mentally cursing the guard, he moves swiftly after Maurenne and Dienne. "Tesia, you may want to alert someone. Don't cause a panic, though, that could be fatal for a number of people." Hoping she can see the drow, he moves on, eyes scanning the crowd for more drow.
|
|
Of course, the same man. Fiona looks him over with trepidation before he reveals his intent; as he speaks, she remains silent, a look of quizzical interest on her face. She takes the package and turns it over in her gloved hands for a moment, admiring the material jutting between a fold in the wrapping.
Listening to him, she can't help but smile. She speaks in soft, demure tones, trying her hardest not to blush. The accent of her people drifts through, and colors her words with a northland burr. "If that's all y'seek, it isn't an issue to reveal such a thing to a kind man. But if y're hopin' for more, I'm seeking a... well, it'd be quaint to have some company. These kinds of things are so boring by yer lonesome, wouldn't y'say? Perhaps y'd like to walk with me."
She holds out a leather-gloved hand for him to take. "Fiona," she says. "Pleased t'meet ya Faukes, and I'll take the moment to repay your kindness b'not askin' ya why ye were followin' me 'round watchin' what I was doin'." She gives him a laughing smile, intent on dragging him by the hand to the fountain if he took her up on her request.
"I'd like that very much, Fiona," Faulkes replies, extending his hand. "Yes, festivals can be dull if you don't have someone to share it with."
***
Ithelien sees nothing else untoward about the crowd.