It's been several days since you accepted the offer of King Irovetti of Pitax to take on a bold endeavour to civilize the lands southwest of his kingdom. As you go to the ceremony were you'll been publically given this duty you think about the reasons for taking on it. Around you the Academy of Grand Arts boils with activity. It's servants run all around the place trying to make sure the guests of King Irovetti are well served. One of the bigger halls, normally used for theater performances has been accomodated for a ceremony where Pitax's Ruler has summoned a small group of adventurers with intentions unknown to the high ranking citizens that have been invited to attend to it. The singers and musicians make their best efforts to exalt Irovetti's rule, but anybody who had seen true artists would know their works were mediocre at best. As you come a chamberlain announces your name to the crowd and directs you to a table to sit at while waiting for the King to make his appearance
A half elven man walks into the room proudly. He is wearing the clothes that Theodric had gotten for him so he may impress any nobles or such people he might meet. He was wearing blue bliauds and blue trousers covering his bliaud was a white and blue surcoat that had the Taldan White Lion displayed proudly to show any that he was of Taldan blood. On his back was a gray cloak that trimmed with wolf's fur which was pinned to him by silver brooches at the shoulder. He thinks to himself ”That will show them I am not just a nobody that they can forget.” Any who have taken in what he is wearing they will notice he is a taller man that seems to be made of lean muscle. His skin tone is a light tan , his hair is light brown that goes to his shoulders but the most odd thing about him is the violet color eyes that he has. From the way he walks to how he holds himself any could tell that this man was a warrior. Looking around at the table of his comrades he thinks to himself ”So these are the ones I am to work with.” Grinning he says ”How are all of you? I thought I would ask since we will be working with each other closely.” He looks around at each face to gauge what they are working or at least try to get some idea of them. He than thinks for a moment ”What should I ask them so I can get an idea of them. Oh I know I can tell them a bit about myself than ask them to tell me.”
Grinning once again he say ”Well as you could tell my name is Cyean Gurov . A knight among others things. If any of you need help feel free to ask. I am from Taldor as some of you may tell my from the white lion upon my chest. Do not worry I am more about freedom than trying to take over things. As I see it you are free to do what you will. It is your life do with it what you wish who is anyone to tell you other wise. Now this view goes up to a point. As long as you do not bother my freedom I would not bother with yours, just the sort of person I am really. Now can you all tell me about yourselves? Would help all of us to get to know each other. “ He than waits for the others to answer him.
”I trust you intend to arrive fashionably late,” he purrs, refusing to release her.
”What lesser mortal could hope to usurp our illustrious King in that regard,” Thalia jests, warming in response to Drey’s inquiry and his affection.
Thalia remembered the day that Brother Drey Yarnes arrived at the cathedral. She was hardly a novice then, and he scarcely a priest. She knew that she wanted him within moments, but he pretended that she was too young to know his embrace. Thalia, however, was driven. The occasions they met were precious and few, and so brief she wondered if they were not in fact visions crafted of her fantasies.
Drey chuckles and lets his teeth trace a line down her neck as his hands move elsewhere, quickening Thalia’s breath. The next words he speaks to her are the last, when he rises and gestures to the three gowns draped over her vanity. ”Turquoise features your eyes.”
Thalia is underwhelmed by the atmosphere of boredom that pervades at the Academy of Grand Arts, an effect heightened by intimate knowledge of the incompetents that are interred within for the sake of aggrandizing its benefactor, the Bard King Castruccio Irovetti. She is as familiar with its halls as she is with the various cells of the cathedral, and her feet, decorated with pretty sandals, glide over the stone soundlessly. The temptation to simply appear before the King was palpable, and if not for the affirmation of her faith earlier, she might have been overwhelmed. Calistria was the goddess of trickery, and Her worship was fulfilled by indulging in Lust, but as an Elven diety, she also knew patience, and so would Thalia.
The turquoise gown Brother Drey recommended was a gift from a particularly indulgent patron, cut to fit her body perfectly, to the exact detail of stitching the seams of the gores that accentuate the modest swell of her bust while she was modeling it on the tailor’s dais. Its skirt is as a sheath for her long legs, and even with a slit to allow for movement, inhibits her freedom. Were she a dancer, Thalia might not have stood being confined, but she had trained in far greater pursuits than making a display of her body. Thalia knew as well as Brother Yarnes that Irovetti would be informed of her talents, and expect such a display, but he might not anticipate that she would hobble herself thus.
Turquoise features your eyes, Drey had stated before he left. Observe, and be content to be observed, he whispered now, soft as a prayer, igniting her passion for him.
Thalia presents the invitation she received to the steward in the antechamber, furnishing the elder man with a seductive smile. To be sure, she would be expected to behave badly at this function as well, perhaps even to attempt to strike up a flirtation with the King. Thalia loathed to disappoint the expectations of others.
A curious numb sensation washes over her skin when Thalia hears the chamberlain announce her given name, and she wonders when she came to represent herself by her title.
”Thalia, Priestess of the Sacred Sting.”
Winterflower, mistress of the Wasp.
Thalia waits at a chair across the table from the man who identifies himself as Cyean, and allows the chamberlain to assist her seating. ”Greetings, Sir,” she replies while still standing, offering him a polite salute, wary of the way that the neck of her gown displays the length of her neck, an affect heightened by the complex chignon she has pulled her rose gold curls into.
”I am called Thalia by many, but you are free to refer to me by any title you find appropriate,” she answers in kind and smiles softly, accentuating the fullness of her lips. Thalia's voice is alto in pitch, and she speaks in such a way to suggest that she is providing harmony to a silent melody. Keenly aware of her greatest features and confident in her allure, Thalia assumes her seat in a disciplined display of her practiced grace. ”Some call me priestess, others… much less kind epithets.” Thalia hums and flicks her hazel eyes to the chamberlain. ”Thank you,” she dismisses.
”I do believe that you and I have a good deal in common,” she continues, a particular quality to her voice that makes it sound like an animal purring. Thalia pulls a tendril of curl artfully arranged to fall in front of her ears behind it to emphasize their shared Elven descent. ”Taldor was it?” she muses, and leans back in her chair and reguards Cyean with a smile. ”How came you to Pitax? Overland, or by the river?”
Mikam brushed the length of brown hair that had fallen free of its cue out of his eyes. He stood unobtrusively only a few feet away from the steward, out of the way of the flow of Pitaxian nobility as they sashayed into the hall, their furs and finery glimmering in the light pouring from the enchanted crystal chandelier floating gently above the array of tables. In the hall itself the nobility fairly gleamed as they moved or conversed in small knots, like a pack of wolves, marking their territory on the floor of the hall.
He felt out of place and out of joint amidst all the arrayed beauty. That was probably what was keeping him from pressing forward, he was just taking in all the sights…Right.
Mikam suddenly noticed that his hand was sweating on the invitation again, and he nervously wiped it off on his borrowed black shadbelly. He glanced quickly down the entrance hall one more time, wondering and hoping if the carriage that had brought him here from Namith’s house was still there.
He spun around at the sudden and polite cough. The elderly steward was standing next to him, his hand diffidently outstretched for the invitation. Mikam grimaced, there was no turning around now, no escape. Cornered, he handed the slightly moist invitation to the steward.
”Mikam of the House Orlovski,” echoed off the polished marble for the barest of instances, before being swallowed up by the continuation of various knots of conversation. [b]”Ser, if you would please proceed down to the table…” an outstretched hand indicated a table near the center of the hall where a solidly built man and absolutely stunning woman sat. With no way to avoid the inevitable, Mikam walked down the steps into the hall of wolves and approached the central table.
”Taldor was it? How came you to Pitax? Overland, or by the river?”
The huge man sat gingerly into the tiny chair with a resolved sigh, his consternation plain as his thoughts wandered across his face. Wonder if it will break. Everyone will laugh at me. I can't possibly pay for it. I look... I feel ridiculous. What am I doing? Why the hell am I here?"
He had been there earlier than nearly any other, not understanding that the different times on the invitation had been there to facilitate introductions. He hadn't come through the arches at the right time, so he simply wasn't announced, which suited him just fine. He was definitely in no mood to be stared at by a room full of strangers. He felt like an idiot. What is going on? Why am I wearing these stupid outfit?. His clothes were new and expertly made even if the material was plain and the cut a few years out of fashion, but he still seemed uncomfortable in them, as if he were wearing a skin that was not his.
The man, the Knight, Sir Cyean, he was obviously a warrior. Noble and poised, obviously comfortable taking charge and speaking in front of such beautiful women. Like the one that had just sat down. Was he supposed to stand for her? He didn't know, so he sort of awkwardly half stood until she was seated, then lowered himself back down in his tortured chair. He was not like these people. He was not a fighter. He had lost every fight he had ever been in except for the one against the mean children after he'd been taken in, but that wasn't so much fighting as it was simply stopping them from hurting people without accidentally killing them.
The only thing he had was size, and that had never, ever brought him anything good. He was too small for the world he was born to, too large for the world he'd been brought into. They just wanted to use him for something that no one else could do. Like the time that horse had died and he'd had to pull the plow.
Did she say Priestess? Like mother. I wonder if...
His stomach rumbled like a growling beast as he eyeballed his delicate plate and the dainty silverware next to them. Which fork was he supposed to use again? He shifted and his chair made a popping noise. He froze.
He sighed again, hoping they would just get on with all this so he could leave.
Thalia pulls herself to the edge of her chair, and reaches for the glass of water that has been set at her place. Grasping the glass by the stem near its base, Thalia lifts and places the rim against her lips and for a pregnant moment regards the large male beside her from beneath the copper lashes of her eyes. She noted the decorative and functionless chair protesting against this creature's considerable mass. And the way his eyes dart about... [he's likely exceedingly uncomfortable. Might he?
Thalia, mindful of any hospitality offered by the Bard King wets her lips with the water and then sets the glass back down beside her empty before rising. She lets out her bare arm to the unidentified male, offering him her hand. "Sir, will you accompany me to the dance floor?" she inquires. "I bore easily, and in this gown my aptitude for dance is not likely to exceed the talent of the players," a slow smile spreads across Thalia's face, the amber in her hazel eyes reflecting the light of the room. She inhales sharply before continuing, "which is worse, I will allow you to be the judge," she jests and laughs softly.
Cyean looks at Lady Thalia closely before answering he than says "I came overland. Lady Thalia." He than watches as she tries to get the massive man to dance he shakes his head than says "Lady I would suggest we leave our comrade from the dance floor. He seems to be very uncomfortable. How about other than dance we try to get our new comrade to speak with us?" Turning to look at massive man once more Cyean says "Comrade who may you be? Where do you hail from? One of such statue as yourself must be a mighty warrior." Thinking to himself "I hope that does the trick to get him to answer us. I wonder why he feels so uncomfortable."
Thalia was attempting to ferret out some information. Since you volunteered, she's not suspicious of you, but she is more than just a little curious.
There is something very feline in the way that Thalia touches the tip of her tongue to her upper lip before she tilts her head back and laughs at Cyean's suggestion. Lady? her mind reels. Of all the titles on this plane! Has he no knowledge of my Lady of the Wasps?
"Oh! How rude of me!" she exclaims when she recovers. "I had not the intent to cause discomfort, Sir. Our most arresting King Irovetti is renown for his tardiness in affairs of state. I wished to stretch my legs, and thought that I would invite another to join me."
Thalia reaches her offered hand over her head and curls her weight about in a stretch from her graceful neck to her delicate toes and feels the dress slide into place around her trim waist. She inhales sharply, tasting the solution of several dozens of exotic perfumes meant to confuse the natural senses and finds some relief from the din that plagues her hearing. Thalia hums loudly and appears to sway for a few moments before speaking in a musical tone
"Ah, to be free!"
then slowly opens her eyes and spares a decorous smile for Cyean while she awaits the large creature's answer.
The sudden relief that Mikam felt being completely ignored as he stood next to the table was nigh palpable. The attention of the warrior and beauty were now completely riveted to an enormous man that had settled himself, like some great beached whale, at tableside.
Mikam smoothly and quietly inserted himself at the table.
For a few moments he sat quietly, not daring to move and have their attention turn to him, simply watching the strangers at the table and wondering where they had come from.
The warrior did not seem Pitaxian. He seemed clean, calm, and appeared honest, unlike the majority of those he had interacted with since coming to this city.
Both the woman and large man did feel Pitaxian, neither of them being quite what they seemed on the outside. The ravishing beauty, although he had to admit he had little experience with women, and certainly none with a woman of her caliber, was...offputting? Agressive? Mikam couldn't put his finger on it...something like one of those swamp plants that were beautiful but would eat a man whole. In stark contrast, the brute simply seemed to crush everyone at the table by his mere presence.
Mikam grinned. Thankfully he is crushing everyone else for the moment, Mikam thought as he sat back and sipped some of the wine, watching the show.
I...ah..my...name is Raxus. I am a... hunter. I was asked to come here, but I do not understand why." His voice sounds like distant thunder and as he speaks his eyes remain downcast, unwilling to look any at the table in the eye. "Who... are all of you? Why am I counted among you?"
Cyean grins warmly at Raxus than says "I think you answered your own question Raxus. Where we go will most likely have dangerous animals and wild beasts. A hunter who knows these kind of animals would be perfect to help track them. As I said earlier I am Cyean Gurov a knight. The reason you are counted among us? Well I do not really know maybe the King will answer that. Though if you are a very skilled hunter maybe you could help me with something I have always dreamed of what do you say want to help me catch a white lion? Yes I know they may just be myths but I will find one."
A hunter? Thalia hums, harmonizing with the melody that dances just beneath her eyelids. Our King, his advisers, the trade houses and our lords and ladies could spare such a large creature? Thalia assess Raxus critically. No, not in the least subtle, but then... even blunt tool can be effective in the right hands.
Whose then, mine?
Thalia's eyes widen slightly at the mention of hunting a white lion. Is that some manner of allegory? she wonders. She tries to recall if she has heard such a reference in any poems circulated through the college. It was so difficult to discern metaphor from drug addled fantasy, of late. One wondered why any would continue to exert effort to interpret second-rate authors intent.
"Likely to exceed my obvious martial deficiency," she answers Raxus. "I have no martial inclination, and am ever so delicate," she demurs and then laughs, sparing him a warm smile.
As you wait for your partners to arrive and Irovetti to make his entrance you watch the usual collection of upstarts, self-proclaimed artists, and mediocre musicians that populates Pitax' King balls come and go around you.
Thalia's eyes glance over the clearly misplaced adventurer. Oh, to be sure, there would have to be one, she laments. And how many of his agents about? If this one is not his. Conspicuous. Too conspicuous... But then... Thalia fairly purrs, vaguely aroused by the opportunity.
"Gentlemen," she says to the gathering, and inclines her head in a bow. "I believe that I will take that stroll, now. Be assured I will attend you directly when our host arrives."
Thalia dances through the throng of petty nobility and criminals wearing a patient smile. She lifts a flute of liquor from a floating tray to appear sociable, and for a manner of prop as she approaches the figure.
"Greetings, average, nondescript and wholly suspicious," Thalia sings with a champion smile, and salutes the man by raising her drink. "Might you consider sharing this awkward scene of yours with tall, attractive and ostentatious?" she invites.
The man turns to the sound of your voice and you can clearly see that he can't. His eyes are a pale shade of grey, covered in cataracts. Ah my sweet girl he says with trembling voice I will have to take you on your word about the tall and ostentatious. But if I may be so bold let me say that your well honed voice is really the most attractive thing I will hear all day. I would bet my good knee, if I had one, that you have not been trained in this poor jest of an academy he smiles looking slightly to the left of your face Would you be a darling an indulge this old man? Let me make you a wager his smile turns into a grin If I win you will give me your name in that beautiful voice of yours, if you win I'll answer the questions you clearly intend to ask
A tall woman with dark black hair and fair skin strides into the hall, deftly handing her invitation over without pause while entering to her name. She has obviously participated in this type of affair before. She wears a green gown made of silk, but with natural elements throughout. Around her shoulder is draped the strangest scarf you have ever seen. It is bright orange with streaks of black throughout, and seems much thicker than one would expect, especially this time of year. Then you notice the movement. Thousands of tiny black legs undulate and ripple, and that is when you realize it's not a scarf at all, but a giant centipede.
She walks over to the table, and nods to everyone. Greetings all, I am Felina, Druid of the Green Faith, and this is my faithful companion, Buster. I hope I have not missed anything important, but finding a gown that favored both myself, and my companion was not easy.
She sits with the grace of someone trained in courtly manners, but based on her dress and her pet, she is also someone highly attuned to nature.
"I, trained in this academy?" Thalia qualifies incredulously, and lifts the flute to her lips. She only wets them with the liquid contained within, using the natural pause to consider her next words carefully.
"To which manner of training do you refer, trickster? That which tested my ability to endure fools, or to excel?"
The man stays silent for a second and then says I am certainly sorry but I do not seem to be as cultured as you. I did not understand your last words, but I am sure I heard them perfectly. Are you taking advantage of a poor old man? he tries to wink an eye but ends blinking. I guess you are not interested in my little wager, I am sorry if I offended you with my words
"You did not offend," Thalia assures the elderly man. Curious that he is so interested in my talents. Let us see where this will lead... "Care to say, I was eager to set my mind to greater puzzles than discerning who has greater responsibility for the poor entertainment, my betters at the academy, or the likely rube who intimidated this sullen lot into performing for their daily dose, rather than bargaining."
Raxus watches the pretty lady go as he nods to the Knight. "I have not traveled far. I know only these lands. I have never seen a lion. If we find one, and I am there, I would help you."
As the dark haired woman approaches Raxus' eyebrows raise. "That is a big bug."
The man smile grows Ah. a sharp mind and a tongue to match he once more fails at his attempt to wink If you are no interested in my little wager you could indulge me and get me a flute of what you are sipping? I like the smell and it will help me avoid the scent of these upstarts that think that smelling that a field of flowers is a show of class he moves next to your ear and whispers If I wanted to smell the scent of fields I would visit a tavern filled with farmers, at least they know how to throw a party as a snigger scapes his lips
A small framed servant approaches your table and asks Is all to your likin' good sers? The king insisted you get the best service his eyes look scared at Raxus and she lets a small shriek whe se spots the centipede around Felina's neck.
Cyean points at the symbol on his chest "Lion look similar to this. They are massive cats. The males have manes around their heads." He than grins after Raxus's comment on the bug. He turns to Felina "Greetings Lady Felina, I am Cyean a knight which seems to be said a lot this night. A druid you say maybe you could help me explain a lion better to Raxus, I find it hard to explain unless one has seen one."
When the servant walks up and shrieks Cyean shakes his head softly before answering " Do you happen to have cheese and onion soup with bread. Otherwise this is a fine meal. I find it hard to find some good cheese and onion soup."
Thalia laughs softly as the elderly man's breath tickles her large ears and presents her own flute for his pleasure. "Have you reason to fear that my lips are poison?" she inquires pointedly. "Or is it that you fear my touch more? Perhaps you are afraid to touch me?"
Thalia leans in ever so slightly, and scents the elderly man's neck as she might a lover's, and hums, the quality of her voice something like a growl. "I do have a particular taste for puzzles," she whispers before she steps back. "Consider me your loyal servant," she teases with a seductive smile, and makes sure to use her long legs to their full advantage in creating a display of herself as she retreats from him.
The old man seems to react to the sounds and smells of Thalia, and as she leaves he stands, with a flute in his hand and a puzzled look in his face.
The servant seems caught unprepared by Cyean's request and stutters as she answers O... of course, I think I could get ya some from the kitchens. Does the lord have a particular preference in... cheeses? her eyes dart from Cyean towards the centipede and back again as she awaits a response.
Cyean thinks for a moment before answering "Surprise me but make it a mixture of two cheese if you would."
The servant tries to get a hold of herself and asks the rest of the party May I bring ya something else? while moving slowly away from the centipede. A flash of envy crosses her face as she sees Thalia approaching.
Thalia is wearing a broad smile when she returns to her companions, and pauses for a brief moment to consider the new arrival, a young woman wearing some manner of vermin around her neck. Good my lady, though your divine grace shatters prejudice, might I this once say that wearing vermin to a high social function is quite odd.
"Good gentlemen, it seems only a moment ago that I stepped away to stretch my legs, and here one of your number has managed to summon a beautiful woman to delight and entertain!" Thalia sings. "Good lady, your gown is stunning, as is the company you keep. I am called Thalia."
At the servant's shriek Raxus tenses, and the back of his chair pops off on one side. He tries not to move, hoping no one notices his accident. Instead he gingerly stands, trying to shrink in on himself to somehow lessen his greater-than-eight-foot height, his stomach rumbling again. Looking to the chair and the fancy silverware, he sighs. "I'm not hungry." he mutters to the servant and begins to walk away.
Thalia watches Raxus rise and leave, then looks to her companions. When none make any motion to accompany him, she sets her glass down on the table and pursues. She feels a single pang of regret that she wore such restrictive garments attempting to match the much larger creature's stride. Aye, but he is considerably large, she muses, a particular smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Solid, likely more than capable of disposing of any minor annoyance in a single swing. As for the other... Thalia hums and picks up her pace, ever so slightly.
"Raxus, peace!" Thalia begs when she nears. "Slow a while," she continues when she catches up to him. "Had you wished to walk a way, you might have informed me earlier. I do find that I am quite prone into walking blind into considerable danger when left to my own devices. Will you accompany me on a tour of the grounds?"
I apologize for the present of my pet, but I just found Buster, and I'm not sure what kind of trouble he would get into outside of my presence, considering his poisonous bite, and his species' penchant for attacking anything that moves.
She turns toward the servant. Don't worry young lady, I assure who he is well-behaved in my presence.
Raxus' brows furrow in confusion as if he simply cannot figure out why she would choose to ask him for company. Why not the knight? or the bug lady? I should be glad. Anything to get away from all these people.
"I... Yes." he says, slowing to let her lead the way.
Thalia notes Raxus's discomfort, and draws her full lower lip between her teeth for a moment. Oh, what joy! First an enigma with a false gait, and now a bashful hulk. At this prodigious rate of freakish circumstances I may soon find this lip of mine wrapped around- Thalia's lips curl up in a secret smile.
"It is not my intent to make you uncomfortable, Raxus," Thalia says just loud enough to be heard over the din. "Earlier when I offered for you to dance with me, it was because I thought you looked extremely uncomfortable at table, and I as well," she admits and laughs softly. "I am an exceedingly poor dancer. In performances, I typically provide accompaniment," she jests.
She's talking to me? Probably trying to set me up for a joke. Oh well. Might as well get it over with.
"The table was too small. I just... didn't want to break anything." he says with a shrug. "I... have never danced. But I like music. What instrument do you play?"
"I own a lute, but I prefer the sound of the cello," Thalia replies, and furnishes her right hand for inspection. There are heavy calluses on on her fingertips from exhaustive practice with her lute in her spare time, scores littering her narrow couch while she she witnessed far greater courtesans seduce and bring their clients to climax. Occasionally, if she played particularly well, she would be invited to join. Others simply wished to watch her play in the nude. She found herself wondering if Raxus might, some day. His frame was massive, he was in his own way quite striking, in a particular light. Thalia's hazel eyes catch in the candlelight as they walk.
"I've not the skill to write my own scores as of yet, but I am a quick study. Is there any song that you might like me to play for you?"
"Um.. I... did not know that songs had names. My favorite one goes..." And he hums softly.
His muted voice thrums like a string bass, causing her to feel the song almost more than she heard it. When he hums his short song there is none of the self-consciousness he displayed while trying to engage in conversation, as if he did not realize that he was supposed to worry about what people might think of his voice. It takes her a moment to recognize a common song sung in praise of Shayln, goddess of love and beauty. An unexpected tune from an unexpectedly talented musician.
Cyean looks at Felina since they are the only two at the table. He than says "So Lady Felina, care to tell me about yourself? I got to know a bit about Raxus and Lady Thalia before they left. I could tell you about myself first if you like instead of you just telling me."
Thalia slides her eyes closed and listens with her acute elven senses while Raxus hums, more than a little surprised at his ability to recall much less carry a tune. She is still attempting to place and sort the melody in her memory when she recognizes that he has stopped, and she has been walking a time in silence.
"That was engrossing, Raxus," Thalia fairly purrs. "Some evening in the future, you must allow me to play for you, to set a harmony to that melody. And then perhaps we might write it together?" Thalia suggests with a smile.
"What's a harmony? the giant man says, falling back into his habit of perpetual embarrassment and self-doubt.
Thalia reaches her arm out and places her right hand on Raxus's stomach. "Stop," she states, putting the force of her personality behind the command. She steps in front of him and gestures so that she might take his hands. "I apologize that this sorry lot will be your first exposure to a live performance, but some things cannot be helped," she continues.
"Close your eyes," she directs, "and listen only to the music. You hear the high strings? The light sound that pervades?" "That is the melody, that which carries the song to heavens. But beneath," she pauses to choose the correct words, and begins tapping on Raxus's wrist in time to the music with her callused fingertips. Thalia's breathing is shallow as she discusses her passion, her alto voice taking on an almost rapt quality that is erotic in its own right, "the low parts, like the beating of your heart, they support the heights to which the strings soar. Without the harmony, the high strings would simply be so much noise. The harmony builds and defines the melody. Do you understand?"
So that's what mother meant.
"Yes." The big man stands solid as a mountain, as if her touch had paralyzed him. His awkwardness had vanished when he was no longer required to speak. Now he was simply there, huge and still. Something alive had stirred beneath the surface for a moment but he quelled it. She could feel his heart hammer harder and saw his red irises dilate. There had never been anything to fear in him before, but now, though he was in no way aggressive toward her, his aura had changed. She was suddenly more aware of exactly what he was.
"Thank you" he rumbled. "I always enjoyed music. I never noticed all the different parts before. There is a lot there."
"Between men and women, too, and among them," Thalia sighs, and releases Raxus's wrist. There is a fine sheen of perspiration on her face, and across her chest and arms. "Music is inspired by a good many influences; love, heroism, intrigue, even war. The melody may overwhelm at times, but if you've trained your ears to hear, you will discover the harmony, directing the tempo."
Thalia raises her face to look Raxus in the eyes. "Feel you comfortable enough to return to our companions?" she inquires. "If you've no wish to sit, we might continue taking a turn, but if you train your ears too carefully in this hall," Thalia's expression turns slightly sour and she shakes her head. She offers Raxus her hand. "Might you escort me back, sir?"
He nods and engulfs her tiny hand with his massive one, seeming far less uncomfortable now that he has someone to act as an anchor of sorts.
Back at the table he looks at the broken chair and swallows, gently shaking his head and sitting down on it careful not to put any weight on the back.
Looking at the group he sees the quiet newcomer and whispers to Thalia, "Who's he?"
"Greetings again, Sirs, Lady," Thalia says again, her smile practiced.
Thalia slides her calloused fingertips over Raxus's shoulders and assumes a seat beside him, arranging the skirts of her gown expertly so that she might cling to the edge of her seat and remain poised, spine straight, and alert. When Raxus whispers to her, she leans slightly towards his mouth.
"You should recall Mikami, Raxus," Thalia chides him gently, and spares a smile for the man slouching in his chair. His poor posture made her hyper aware of hers, and the promise she had made to the elderly man before she returned to the table. Odd that I would overlook such a detail, she muses, but does not feel the inclination to confirm that the man has likely disappeared.
Thalia looks to the woman with the vermin hanging from her neck. "But we have yet to be formerly introduced to the good lady. I am called Thalia, and I am shamed to admit to having attended this institution."
Cyean looks at Felina since they are the only two at the table. He than says "So Lady Felina, care to tell me about yourself? I got to know a bit about Raxus and Lady Thalia before they left. I could tell you about myself first if you like instead of you just telling me."
I hail from New Stetven. Other than that, there is not much to tell. My mother was a merchant's daughter, and I have no knowledge of my father other than that he was or is an elf. I wasn't really considered part of my family growing up, so I spent much time exploring the nearby forest, and that is where I was introduced to the beauty of nature. Yourself?
Just as Felina finishes telling Cyean about herself, Thalia arrives at the table with Raxus in tow. Well,as I just told Cyean, I am the child of a merchant's daughter from New Stetven, and an unknown elf. It is very nice to meet you. Actually, I'm rather intrigued at the number of half-bloods in this group. Raxus, you seem awfully large to be full human, is there some other blood in you as well?
Mikam touches the servant on the shoulder. "If you don't mind, could you please bring more wine? I enjoyed the red...whatever this vintage is." Mikam gestured at his now empty glass, his other hand fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth in a nervous tic.
They are back, he thinks, seeing Thalia and Raxus return to the table, and notices her smiling at him for a moment before moving on to regard Felina and her...pet. I was hoping that he would stay away...Raxus makes me feel...small.
Feeling slightly more at ease and also slightly fuzzy after the large glass of wine, Mikam also turns to regard Felina. He watches the creature on her shoulder for a moment, his mind failing to process what he is seeing. It could be an insect...or perhaps some sort of mutant weasel?
"If you don't mind me asking Felina...what is that thing?"
Raxus, you seem awfully large to be full human, is there some other blood in you as well?[/b]
Raxus is still as he considers the question. He seemed like he expected it to come up, but still wasn't sure what to say now that it had. After a moment he shrugs. "Ogre." He says simply.
Half ogre. That is very interesting, and quite unusual. I can tell you from experience, that we are not defined by our blood, but by our actions, so I you will receive no judgement from me.
Felina turns towards the gentleman on her right. This is Buster, my pet centipede, of the giant variety of course. I don't believe you have introduced yourself yet.
Mikam regards Raxus after his sudden pronouncement.
Ah. Well that answers that question...I had assumed he was simply large. I imagine he is actually smaller than his parent. I certainly feel for him, I don't doubt that my upbringing was better than his...I was merely ignored, he was probably abused or treated like trash.
Mikam turns back to Felina to answer her question. "Ah, well, I am Mikam Orlovski, late of Skywatch and now...well not really of anywhere I am afraid. Wanderer, whimsical, worthless wastrel...that's me", he says self deprecatingly. Mikam raises his recently refilled glass in a mock salute then drains half away in a large gulp.
That really is an enormous bug...
'I can tell you from experience, that we are not defined by our blood, but our actions?' Thalia muses, and smothers a guffaw at the woman's staggering display of idiocy. Good My Lady, grant me the patience to endure such a creature on my travels, Thalia composes a mental prayer to Calistria. It will like require one with greater fortitude than I to silence her with kisses.
"And one might soon add inebriated, Mikam." Thalia warns coolly. "Although you are not alone amongst the assorted filth here," her voice lends itself poorly to hissing, and sounds instead like a great cat rumbling before it strikes.