Although she hides it quite well and seems to have her attention focused on the tailor and dresses, Kyralina is rather shaken by the encounter. She glances over to Larin as the young woman is admonished for wearing a sword, but cannot help thinking about how effective that sword had been only moments earlier. Perhaps she should start carrying weapons as well.
She almost snorts as the thought strikes her - it was more dangerous here, in the capital, than in the far-flung reaches of the Avin prefecture, where she and her family had been spending most of their time. Yes, there were incidents of highway robbery and sometimes wild animals prowled the less settled areas, but she had never before been directly attacked!
"I presume you have matching gloves for this gown. I find the waist a smidgen too loose, do take that in a little." She continues conversing with the tailor as these thoughts race through her mind.
As they are walking inside, Tabar shakes his head and whispers to Izalco.
"It isn't about the money. I had to keep playing the part of entitled noble unrelated to you all... lets face it, whomever sent them will eventually be asking them what happened. Making it look entirely like a combination of bad luck and incompetence is better than them knowing that we actually are aware that we are being targeted." Giving him a smile, he holds the door open for them.
Tabar blushes a bit as the seamstress fusses over his damaged shirt, accepting gratefully the replacement as well as the measurements for a proper suit for the Gala. He is about to bid everyone a good evening when the man approaches him. He smiles and takes his card with care, taking a moment to examine and appreciate the quality of it. "We shall see... I am nothing if not a just person, and as such I will allow the legal process its chance to work before resorting to... other means of recompense. I will, however, keep your offer in mind in case the justice system proves to be too blind to see the truth of things." Pocketing the card, he gives the man a nod before having to resist doing a double take at his referral to Cecilia. FIANCEE! What the...
"Ah, yes... I am most fortunate... that she was in a position to help me... and obviously I admire her courage in the face of dangers... yes."
The words just tumble out of his mouth as if on autopilot, and he looks to Cecilia with a look that is both bashful and pleading. Please don't take offense please don't take offense please don't take offense...
Cecilia is browsing for accessories to go with the gown she's already picked. She just looking at a particularly fetching headpiece and trying to determine if she will be able to make it work with a loose hairstyle when she hears the man's comment and Tabar's flustered reply.
She herself isn't quite certain how to react, but in the end she settles for an airy laugh. "Oh, I did very little. Lady Zespire was far more courageous than I. But I must say sir that you are mistaken about our relationship. I am not yet betrothed to anyone." And gods willing it will stay that way!
Seeing Kyralina's discomfort and the way she keeps glancing at Larin's sword, Cecilia chooses an opportune moment to speak to the other woman privately. Under the guise of examining a new skirt, she slightly lifts her own so Kyralina can see the small dagger strapped to her lower leg. "I do hope neither of us would ever need to use something like this. But if you wish, I can tell you where I got both the dagger and the sheath. The shop is very discreet."
"I was hoping to question them as well, but at the very least, as you say, we are in good company. Our companions seem quite capable." Izalco whispers back to his younger cousin. At her dismissal by the tailor he sniffs derisively but keeps his mouth shut.
After confirming the time and place of delivery for his gala outfit he looks over Cecilia's choices approvingly. "I do adore that shade of blue, though I wear it so often I've had to opt for a more discreet color for my gala appearance. I'm glad to see it will be represented."
He watches with amusement as Tabar flusters over the implication that he an Cecilia are betrothed though he is unsettled by the man's use of ingrates and betters.
"Seems you started to make some waves in Oppara already. What, might I ask, is on this card you received Lord Ballast? "
Kyralina startles as Cecilia addresses her, then quickly recovers. "Ah yes, of course, matching shoes and dancing slippers!" Having sent the tailor on another errand, she replies quietly.
"I fervently hope that I will never be close enough to a miscreant to have to use... that, but thank you. I was always hopeless at archery, my arms are not strong enough, but I went hunting with a crossbow once and I remember not being entirely terrible with it."
As the tailor returns, she focuses again on the matter at hand. "Quite the daring choice for headdress. You could wear it with a band and a short veil. Hmmm, no, not the veil."
Happy with the information she gathered, Larin takes some notes and heads back to the others. There would be opportunities to act on the information - maybe even work the rumors; but for now, the priority was to focus on the grand scheme of things.
"Bloodbath and Beyond, down in Lionsgate. An uncouth name and the proprietor is worse, but they're very, very good at what they do. I believe crossbows are also among their normal stock." As the tailor returns, Cecilia smoothly shifts back into discussions about colors and styles.
"My coloring has always worked best with jewel tones, and a bold sapphire blue is among my favorites. I will be happy to serve as its representation."
Once the thug is apprehended and the situation stabilized, Olnaris brushes himself off before saying in his more typical refined manner, "I really must apologize for my...change in demeanor. As you all may have been able to guess, my fortunes have not been what yours are. My time among the more unsavory aspect of Oppara have left me, shall I say, more suspicious than most."
Olnaris shares in Izalco's amusement, before setting himself up with a new outfit.
The outfit he settles on is simple but elegant, the hems accentuated by a checked blue and white pattern, all he can remember of the Valkavian family crest.
The card that was given to Tabar reads, in impressively small font, the following:
Tjini Dnerik
Barrister
spec. Litigation
****
With a practiced ease, the tailors and seamstresses of Thread Rare are able to find everyone an outfit suited to their styles. Dresses and suits are tried on, measurements are taken, and arrangements for deliveries are made.
When the outfits are delivered, there are some additional deliveries for some. Tabar's outfit arrives with a small portrait accompanied by a note that simply reads:
Baron Nicolaus Okerra
ML
Underneath the portrait is a small package, that upon opening contains another note. For your success in research and preventing disaster; please share these with your companions. In the package there are two vials of liquid blade, eight smoke pellets, a single dose of soul stimulant, and two vials of dust of illusion.
Tabar shows Izalco the card before placing it in his pocket.
Tabar smiles as he picks up the portrait, examining the man's features and committing them to memory. Good, now I won't be guessing.
As he does this he notices the other stash of goodies. Well, I will have to share these before we begin the party in earnest. Tabar secures them within a satchel and brings them with him to the rendezvous.
Larin carefully peacebinds her longsword. The weapon itself was ornamented with beautiful drawings, and the scabbard had the colors of the Zespire. She pulled white cloth and wrapped around it, giving a sturdier look but mostly hiding the coat of arms. The shield tied to her back didn't have any noticeable symbols.
She was used to the leather armor underneath her clothes, but yet the fancier clothes were somewhat cumbersome to use. She did her best, trying to keep her hair in a beautifully organized fashion, ending in a tiara. Yet, despite all her best efforts, a skillfull makeup and jewels, she still had a certain tomboy aura to her.
Izalco busies himself the day of the gala preparing to host his new found companions as they rendezvous before the main event. His outfit is rich, his clothes as expensive as always, but the colors are less flashy. A black vest over a green cravat, a plain white undershirt and unremarkable slacks. If he wanted to, he could pass for the wait staff, which of course maybe his goal in the long run.
"Any bit of collaborative information we might need before we head off? As far as I can tell, we're quite well prepared." He says to everyone once they've gathered.
Marus is ecstatic when Cecilia informs him of her plans. Not only has she been invited to the Gala, (an event which makes him feel far better about her 'friendship' with Lady Lotheed), but she has a personal invitation to the Zespire estate? Sure, the Zespires are a bit too invested in social reform for his taste, but no one can deny their influence.
After the fifth or so time he not-subtly hints that this is the perfect opportunity to make a good impression on a prospective groom, Cecilia is ready to scream. As such, her mood is rather foul when she first arrives.
"Greetings everyone." Unusually, there is no smile on her face. She is wearing the previously decided upon gown and headpiece, the former of which has been subtly altered to provide some small amount of protection. (As well as two hidden pockets.) In terms of jewelry she is wearing an expensive-looking sapphire choker. No other jewelry aside from her signet ring can be seen. There is also no visible weaponry, but Kyralina no doubt recalls her fondness for concealed daggers.
"I learned a few things about the nobles we are interested in, and heard a rumor that the Senate has been rebuilt so many times that no one actually knows how many rooms there are." She shares the latter piece of information more as an idle curiosity than because she expects it to be helpful. "Otherwise, I believe I am ready to go."
The encounter near Thread Rare had been much too close for Kyralina's taste, so despite her avowed distaste for the prospect of close combat she does follow Cecilia's advice and gets not one, but two hidden daggers in leather sheaths strapped to her calves. On top of that, last-minute instructions to the tailor involved sewing stiff fabric inside the lining of the gown - not enough to ruin the lines, but something a little more solid than velvet and lace. And, of course, pockets.
She arrives at the Zespire estate wearing her gown and a matching green silk cloak a shade darker than the dress. As most of her jewelry is incorporated in the gown, the only additional piece is a thin gold bracelet set with emeralds. This is a good opportunity to practice her charm before the gala, so she is generous with smiles and compliments, especially towards the outfits that the others are wearing.
As Izalco and Cecilia begin to discuss the tasks at hand, Kyralina pipes up. "I wonder how Duke Centimus will enter the senate building, what with the hundred steps and him being in a wheelchair. Hm, probably servants carrying him. Oh, and I'm not sure that Lady Martella should ally herself with Countess Pace, that one is a little fickle in her loyalties." Which was, of course, a very sensible thing to do if you wanted to get ahead and be anyone - you just found the most successful and influential people and made friends with them. "I feel a little bad for hiding Earl Vernisant's heirlooms. He's a direct descendant of General Arnisant, did you know that? Quite the dashing figure, I'm sure. And I hear he's very ambitious, trying to get into the Grand Prince's inner circle. I don't know if it's a smart idea to antagonize him."
Tabar nods as he listens to the others. "That is consistant with my findings... allegedly a lot of safe rooms in there are just undocumented old rooms from the older incarnations of the building. You all should have gotten a packet with all my findings on nobles, the history of the event, the geography and structure, and local sentiment. Let me know if you need a synopsis."
He smiles and opens the pouch. "Additionally, we got these from our benefactoress. I personally do not think that I will need any of them, but I am willing to carry a few inside if someone wishes."
Tabar is wearing a well tailored silver suit, complete with a black vest and a red bow tie, with matching red cummerbund. His sword cane has been peacebonded, and the only jewelry he is wearing is his signet ring and the badge previously provided.
Olnaris wears the suit he had tailored at Thread Rare, along with a roughly made dagger, one he's carried since his first days on the poor streets of Oppara, in a much more finely crafted sheath, peacebound of course.
He wears only his badge and a few simple pieces of jewelry. His wary, almost paranoid manner is entirely absent before the gala, though he grows distant in faint moments where his nerves boil up.
"Have any of you all heard much about either Grand Duke Avernathus of Sir Marcian Germande? I must admit that my knowledge of the political powers of the country is not quite what it should be."
Larin interjects as the others speak.
I haven't, Olnaris. However, I heard about my target, Lord Pythareus... Despite his positive fame of charity, it seems this may be all a facade, as I have reports of him acting very differently in the background. - she stops, before following - Which has definitely fed my interest in keeping an eye at him tonight.
A sneer grows on Olnaris' face, "Pythareus...that bastard. I can attest to your suspicions. It is a ruse, a falsehood."
"Why, Lord Ballast, what are all these vials? Not poison, I hope." Kyralina examines the items in the pouch curiously, but careful not to touch then. If they were alchemical in nature, those tended to be dangerous and volatile.
She chuckles at the mention of a synopsis. "I have quite a good memory, so I won't need the abridged version, but you should have seen my mother's expression when she spotted me reading a stack of papers. I had to pretend they were letters from a suitor, and now my father is making wedding preparations." Kyralina smirks.
"I'm afraid I found no useful information that Lord Ballast has not already shared with us." Being a minor noble Cecilia didn't automatically have the connections that might have allowed for easier research, nor does she have the scholarly nature which might have led her to invest in her own.
She examines the items brought by Tabar with raised eyebrows. "Interesting, although it makes me wonder exactly what Lady Lotheed expects to happen this evening. The liquid blades should likely go to those of us without weapons, while the smoke pellets would potentially be useful for everyone. I don't think I have particular need of the soul stimulant or dust of illusion, but can carry it if people wish."
"However I do also have something you all might be interested in." She withdraws from an invisible pocket a small kit. "The latest scents from Kyonin. Depending on which you choose, they are appropriate for both men and women." She gives a rogueish smile. "I have it on good authority that very few people have access to these right now, and wearing them might well improve people's impression of you."
She herself had picked them up from Anariel, who had likely gotten them from kin back in Kyonin. She hadn't asked for particulars, and Anariel hadn't offered. (In much the same way that Anariel hadn't asked why 'Ethara' wanted such a thing.)
"The scents do dissipate after a while, so I would wait until we've actually arrived to apply them." The kit vanishes back into her pocket. "But please, do feel free to make use of them."
As conversations are had and plans are made, Tabar points out that the evening will not last forever if everyone is to accomplish their tasks and goals. A carriage is brought around for everyone, and all are safely and securely shuttled through the brightly lit city of Oppara. Festival lights, decorations, the sounds of merchants hawking commemorative novelties and the smells of all different types of food make the trip through Oppara rather memorable.
Upon arrival at the senate building, you experience a majestic arrival, which is quickly dampened as you are shuffled gently into an expansive line dedicated to senatorial aides, minor noble attendants, and various others deemed as “people useful to people of import.” The line moves slowly, and is made all the more tiresome by those around you bemoaning its pace and touting their level of importance based on their affiliated senators and nobles. Combined with street vendors attempting to sell phony memorabilia and senatorial security investigators picking random members and groups out of the crowd for inspection, it is a relatively dismal affair.
As you stand in line, an especially dreary investigator makes her way through the crowd towards your party before stopping in front of you.
"You, you, you, you, you and...you," she says, gesturing towards all of you. "If you'll please come with me," she begins, before pulling out a card and reading it off in a monotone voice, "you have been selected for a special inspection. This selection was done at random and is not a reflection of your character, but merely to ensure the safety of the Senate, its members, and that of the Royal Family. Your thank you for your cooperation and apologize for the inconvenience. We will do everything in our power to return you to your event as quickly as possible." Sighing, she puts the card away and gestures again for you to follow. "If you please, my Lords and Ladies."
Seeing you selected, other attendants of the Gala begin to snicker. You've seen how merciless the line is to those that leave it, though the speed at which the line is going, you may not enter the Gala till midnight.
Izalco raises an eyebrow and exaggerates his limp to make sure he's within the center of the pack and not at the lead and he whispers to those closest to him.
"We were certainly not chosen at random my dear friends. Either this one is new and eager to make a name for themselves, or something else is afoot."
He keeps pace however, unsure if this is party of Lady Lotheed's subterfuge, or someone elses.
"Oh! Elven scents! I would be delighted to try one." Kyralina's enthusiasm is quite genuine as she delicately inhales the trace amounts of perfume from Cecilia's kit. "Mmm, exquisite."
She turns to Olnaris. "I can tell you a little about Grand Duke Avernathus and Sir Marcian Germande." "The Duke is rumoured to be quite knowledgeable about the arcane, and enjoys discussing the topic with others interested in magic. After all, it is how he strong-armed his way into power, as he dislikes politics and politicians. Or so I hear." Her expression, quite animated while talking about the Grand Duke, falls a little as she moves to the next subject. "Sir Marcian Germande is a lot less interesting - second son, horse trade, arrogant ass."
Patience was never one of Kyralina's many virtues, so the wait in line is excruciating. She makes small talk to try and pass the time, and is about to start engaging their neighbours in line when they are all pulled out for a "random inspection".
Cecilia is capable of patience, but this line is testing it. The Gala was a prestigious event; how could there be this many people attending? She amuses herself by glaring at any street vendor who approaches and privately betting on how long it will take them to move elsewhere.
(Petty, definitely. But their group wouldn't buy anything anyway, so in a way she's doing them a favor by 'encouraging' them to hawk their wares to someone else.)
When they're pulled out of line for an inspection, she can't contain a sigh. "I do hope this won't cost us our place in line." When people nearby start snickering she sends them another glare. Izalco seems to think this isn't random and she has no reason to disbelieve him, but if this is some power play meant to send them to the back of the line she might resort to violence.
As you all move away from the line and closer to the steps of the senate building. The grandiose building is lit with torches and banners are hung from every conceivable location. Soldiers in ceremonial armor stand at attention in front of the Arcade of Triumphs, and you can see some moving through the Arcade as well.
Just before ascending the 100 marble steps that lead to the senate building, the inspector leads you off to the side and begins performing her inspection on each of you. "Please keep your eyes forward and act as though you're terribly inconvenienced," she says, as she begins performing her inspection. "My name is Kathann Zalar. A mutual acquaintance asked me to help you pass through line a bit quicker." The inspection is brief, and though she does give a quizzical look at finding any of the gifts from Lady Lotheed.
After the inspection, Kathann quickly and quietly shuttles everyone towards the entrance and begins preparing to return to her inspections.
Kyralina doesn't need to be told twice to start making a fuss about this terrible insult, and how no doubt they will lose their place in line, and just wait until she finds out who Kathann's superior is and has a word with them.
However, privately she is elated that their patron is apparently influential enough to provide them with special treatment, and congratulates herself on making the right choice in associating herself with her.
As they reach the entrance, she turns to Cecilia, snapping her fan open to conceal their interaction a little. "Should we put on those scents now, do you think?"
Olnaris smiles at the special treatment. He'd never been given special treatment to assist in the intrigues of court. This life might not be so bad after all.
He marvels at the Senate building. It's a grand structure, one he'd never had the pleasure of seeing. "Incredible. Truly, a reflection of our nation's grandeur. I might get to hobnobbing, after I've sampled the hors d'oeuvres of course. Kyralina, do not hesitate to ask if you need assistance with your task."
"Of course." Cecilia pulls out her perfume kit and smilingly offers it to anyone who wants it. Now that they don't have to stand in line anymore, her mood is positively jovial.
Looking around, everyone she sees seems quite busy. "I doubt we'll be able to do much hobnobbing right now, but perhaps we can get some hors d'oeuvres and check out the lay of the land, as it were. Would anyone like to join me? I was thinking the Gallery first, to observe from above, but could easily be persuaded otherwise."
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"Well, I'm off to the Gallery. If I don't see you there, I'm sure we'll run into each other over the course of the evening." Cecilia nods a farewell at the group.
On her way to the Gallery she takes in the sights of the Senate building. So much history is packed within these walls! And if fortune favors, today she will have a small part in another historical event: the end of primogeniture.
It's enough to make her head swim.
Upstairs she wanders around, marveling at the various performances. Even things meant to entertain children are much grander than anything she's seen before. Off to one side she sees Countess Abrielle Pace. The woman is in a group of people however; far too many for Cecilia to approach her right now. Better leave that for later.
The older of the two looks startled. "My Lady! Um, it is nothing for you to worry about. We're simply working out some kinks in our performance."
Cecilia raises an eyebrow. "It seemed to be a rather intense dicussion."
"It truly is nothing." This time it's the younger man. "Just trying to figure out a way to spice up our act." When Cecilia doesn't move, he sighs and resigns himself to explaining. "The children were a bit disappointed in yesterday's show. At the end of Act 2 the evil wizard demonstrates his power by cursing the hero's sister. Several of the children seemed to think the way she just fell over dead was, and I quote, 'Lame.' We're almost to that scene again, and we still haven't decided on a way to make it more dramatic. That's all. Truly, nothing for you to concern yourself with."
"Hmm." Cecilia really should leave now, curiousity sated. But she's had an idea. A wonderfully terrible idea that would no doubt have Marus frothing at the mouth if he ever caught wind of it. Which makes her want to do it even more.
She gives into the impulse. "How many scenes has this sister been in?"
"None." The elder, also seemingly resigning himself to her curiousity, doesn't hesitate this time. "She's only on stage for about five minutes. She exists to show how powerful the evil wizard is and so the hero can have a poignant scene of crying over her body."
Absolutely perfect for the wonderfully terrible idea Cecilia has had. "Does your troupe have permission for spellcasting? If so, perhaps I could sub in. I guarantee you the scene would be dramatic." She lightly taps her headpiece as if to indicate it's magical.
"But-" The younger starts to protest even as the elder drags him off to the side.
"One moment my lady while we discuss this."
Amused, Cecilia listens to the discussion a few yards away that is definitely not so quiet she can't hear it.
"She's a bloody noble! We can't have her in the play!"
"Exactly, she's a noble, which means she gets what she wants. Who knows, if she's got one of those magical disguise thingies it might even work out for the best."
"Are you sure we won't get in trouble for this?"
"Why would we? You've seen the Margeson troupe, they've made it part of their gimmick to randomly pull parents on stage. Unlike them she's actually asked to be part of the performance."
That seems to be the end of it as they both return. "Um, sorry about that my lady. We would be honored to have you join us." The elder gives a low (and incorrect) bow. "I'm Pitivo. This here's my brother, Serban."
"Hello." Serban waves awkwardly.
Cecilia smiles in a hopefully disarming way. "Lady Cecilia Volso. But please, if I'm to be temporarily part of your troupe, call me Cecilia."
"Of course, um, Lady Cecilia."
Close enough.
A few minutes later she's in costume and waiting for her cue. This is quite possibly the worst idea I've ever had. But it's also the funniest, and Lady Lotheed did tell us to enjoy ourselves.
At the signal she rushes on stage, introducing herself to the audience as Lucretilia, the hero Philius' sister who has definitely always existed. (She sticks to her hastily memorized lines, of course. Luckily there's only three of them.) The evil wizard shows up, evilly laughing and mocking the hero for being too weak to save those he loves.
As he 'curses' her, Cecilia calls upon her innate power to take on a form she's never previously found a reason to use. Within the space of a few seconds her hair has turned white and her skin grey. Her ears would be visibly pointed, but that's still hidden by the hairstyle she refused to let them touch.
There are gasps of shock and some scattered applause from the audience as she sinks gracefully to the ground. She had warned them in advance her 'cursed appearance' would only last for a minute, so only a few seconds after the evil wizard vanishes instead of doing the smart thing and killing the hero while he's distracted, a sheet is draped over her 'dead' form. She lays there, perfectly still while Philius does indeed weep over her body and vow revenge. (The fact that he was already planning on fighting the evil wizard is irrelevant.)
Once her body is carried off-stage, Pitivo greets her with a wide smile. "That was perfect! Wonderfully dramatic. It sounds like the children loved it!"
Serban pipes up from behind him, "Do you think we could get one of those magical thingies?"
Before they can start asking more specific questions about the 'magical thingie' Cecilia interjects, "Oh this was quite fun, thank you for allowing me to join." It had been fun, actually. She had no intention of running away to join the circus, but she was happy she'd decided to try it.
Marus would no doubt throw a fit if he knew she'd used her 'become human for a minute' spell to take on the appearance of a drow. That made it even better.
"I really must get back into my Gala outfit and be off, but thank you again for letting me join the play!" She goes into the hastily created changing area and, (with some help from the other actresses), is soon once more bedecked in finery.
(She's relieved to see that her necklace is still in the pocket of her gown, waiting for her to put it back on. She'd been a little concerned about that.)
As she leaves she's approached by a few parents who recognize her features, (or, more likely, her hair). "Why, whatever made you decide to join the play? It was quite good."
Cecilia smiles bashfully. "Oh, you know, it seemed to be all in good fun. For the children." She gets to spend a few minutes talking to people she likely otherwise would not have approached, and generally feels like the endeavor was a success.
Tabar looks at the cologne, giving it a delicate sniff.
Taking a bit, he applies it. "Thank you, this will help I hope. My compliments to your supplier."
Tabar does not have to actually act inconvenienced, though he is silently grateful that their benefactress yet again has intervened on their behalf. Just how deep does her influence go?
Following Cecillia's lead, Tabar nods at the rest of them. "Good luck, all." With one final smile, he gradually makes his way around the building until he finds himself on the Sentate floor. Ah... one day, I will be here for more than just parties... His internal revilie is cut short by spotting the living and moving visiage of the man whos portrait he had received this morning.
Talking with others right now... I will need to get his attention somehow... must make it natural.
Taking a glass of wine, he begins to discuss with the others around him the local significance of the room they were in as well as the influence that senators had on the shaping of the nation as a whole.
While going to the gallery with Cecilia was tempting - if nothing else she wouldn't be alone - Kyralina was eager to be done with her mission so that she could focus on her own networking and hobnobbing. The entrance gallery seemed the most likely place for those artifacts to be displayed, so she begins doing a slow tour of the space as she looks at the exhibits and tries to match them to what she knows about the various noble families that were connected to those events. Wherever she can, she engages others in conversation about the more interesting relics, trying to look both knowledgeable and eager to hear more, in case her interlocutor likes delivering lectures on the topic.
"Oh my, are all these weapons the real ones? Is that.. is that blood on that blade?"
Commenting on a banner. "The design is so interesting, I wonder if the symbolism references the sigil of the house who sponsored this expedition."
As you begins speaking, a man steps forward, wearing a suit of armor that is more decorative than functional. Broad-shouldered and square jawed, he steps up to you, gesturing with his glass of wine.
"It's all well and good, what the senate has done for our great nation, but would they have been able to accomplish such a thing had it not been for the great Armies of Exploration in days past? Without them, this Senate would not exist. Indeed, the lands our people call home would be overrun while the philosophers of this Senate hid in their ivory towers." The man makes a dismissive gesture, almost in challenge to Tabar's statements. "Outside these walls, the Senate has no true influence, and depends on the work of Taldor's soldiers to carry out its orders. Without them, chaos would reign in the streets."
While spoken for the immediate group to hear, it's clear the words are spoken as a challenge.
As you come out onto the gallery floor from changing back into your attire, you can see a troupe of halflings shooing the performers away. "It's our turn, make way for true delight, for of all the joy in all the land, you'll find the most tonight!" The performers grumble a bit as the halflings take control of the stage, under the direction of one Wyssilka the Fantabulous. The children laugh and cheer as balls are juggled and tossed between performers. A few balls are tossed 'accidentally' towards the actors you had just been assisting, and you get the sense that there is a rivalry between the two groups.
Some other halflings grab up buckets that they begin tossing out to the crowd. The children raise their hands up to protect them from the water that turns out to be confetti and sparkles. As you watch, one of the halflings spins and prepares to toss the contents of a bucket towards you and the performers.
As you comment on the banner, a voice speaks up from behind you. "Actually, that one would be from some many great great and so on uncle. He was, by all accounts, brave beyond the herosim of most men, though if you ask me, some of those stories were likely embellished." Turning around, you see a handsome young man in his early twenties standing before you, looking at the same banner. "Jaspender Vernisant-Croquette," he offers, bowing before you. You notice that he stumbles a bit pronouncing "Croquette", and it comes out a bit like "Crockett."
"And you are...?" he asks, straightening himself.
Kyralina was just starting to warm up to her role, making subtle adjustments to her stance and posture and checking her own reflection in the display cases, when the question freezes her insides. Should she give her real name? Should she make up a fictitious identity? But which? And what if the ruse was discovered later?
"Ah, Vernisant, any connection with the Earl? Another descendant from famous generals, is it not so?" She extends her gloved hand in greeting, one shoulder dipping coyly. "Kyralina Licina, delighted to meet you. And to see such a friendly face here. I am afraid that I am quite lost among all this grandeur," she demurs.
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Tabar turns to the armored figure and raises his eyebrows. Hm... can't get a read on him, beyond that he seems to want to debate me on this topic... well, this should help get the good Baron's notice if I play it correctly.
He gives the man a polite smile and salutes him with his wine glass.
"Very good point, sir. No, the armies of our glorious nation were indeed instrumental in the securing of our greatness, and far be it from me to suggest otherwise. No no, I do not mean to disparage our brave soldiers, past or present." He takes a sip of the wine after raising the glass in a salute to their soldiers.
"That being stated and set aside, however, it is worth noting that our military is as well trained and funded as it is precisely because of the rules and decrees of our beloved Emperors and this venerable body. The incentives, the pays, the rewards for service.... all laid out and hammered into existence on this floor." Once again, he raises his glass in a salute, this time to senators past, taking a sip afterword.
"No, these educated 'philosophers', as you put them, were smart. They knew that our nation needed to maintain its army to the highest possible standards if we were to become the empire we were promised to be. The nobility that walked these hallowed halls knew that showing our armies that they were valued and respected was the surest way to ensure that our great nation would prevail in the conflicts we faced at all sides. And while it is very true that the army is the reason why our law is enforced and order is maintained, both at our borders and within them, it is the works of the dignified gentlemen within these halls that allow us to have any laws to enforce in the first place. They provide the grace that separates the order maintained within a civilized nation and that of a petty warlord's pathetic spat of land."
"Ah, the Arcade of Triumphs!" Izalco says, a bit loud for pleasant conversation. "My dear Uncles used to quiz me on such things, I wonder if I might be able to fill in some of the grittier details!"
He wanders among most of the displays, offering whatever details spring to mind, allowing Kyralina a wide berth as she is approached by a handsome young man.
While waxing poetic on the various military conquests he smacks his lips, quite unlordlike and looks around.
"Of course all of this exposition has me parched. If I'm of a mind for a particular vintage, with whom would I place that request?"
Cecilia, still riding the high from her first (and likely only) successful stage performance, feels strangely protective of her erstwhile co-performers. Therefore she gives the halflings several dark glares as they shoo Pitivo's troupe off the stage without so much as a by-your-leave.
The glare grows darker as balls are 'accidentally' thrown at them and nearly hit a young woman in the head. (Yelena, she'd been backstage when Cecilia was changing and had been very helpful in getting everything buckled and tied properly.)
Hmmph. Simple juggling, and they're not even doing it properly. Who do they think they are?
Caught up in such thoughts, she doesn't pay too much attention to the halflings throwing confetti on the children. As such, when one turns to toss a bucket towards them, (please let it be confetti and not something worse), she is completely unprepared.
"If the champagne is not to your liking, any of the help can bring you something more to your tastes." An older gentlemen with a red velvet cravat waves at one of the servants bustling through the crowd, and is promptly ignored. He lets out a sigh as he watches the intended servant attends to Maxillar Pythareus before hurrying back towards the kitchens. "Of course, they know where their bread is buttered as well." Turning, the man holds out a hand. "Dictatious Meltan," he offers. "Is this your first time at one of these affairs?"
As he extends the greeting, you notice that he is wearing a pin similar to yours, though you do not recognize the emblem as one belonging to that of a current senator.
You try to move out of the way, but unfortunately, your outfit was not made for these types of quick movements. You feel the mixture of confetti and sparkles sprinkle down on you and the troupe of actors while the children laugh and cheer. Thankfully, it was nothing worse than confetti. You hear one of the actors swear under his breath and one of the girls gripes about having to take time to clean off her outfit.
As Olnaris walks into the Arcade of Triumphs, a feeling of cold rage flows through his body. The High Strategos, his father's killer, stood in the center of the room, proud and arrogant as always.
It would be so easy to throw a statue at the bastard's head right now. Crush him like the vermin he is. No, I can't. I'd be slaughtered where I stood, my family snuffed out for good. I must concentrate on the task at hand.
He skirts around the edge of the Arcade and heads further into the building. When he reaches the Archives, he sees one of his targets, Grand Duke Avernathus.
The man liked magic, so magic he would see.
Olnaris confidently strides up to the Grand Duke, "Good afternoon, your excellency. I have long admired your patronage of the mystic arts. If time permits, I have something to show you that may pique your interest."
As you begin announcing yourself to the Grand Duke, a busy looking woman with glasses steps in front of you. "Pardon me, sir, but I'm afraid that Grand Duke Avernathus is otherwise engaged at this moment."
One look at the duke shows that he is reading a book, albeit rather studiously.
"Please understand that the Grand Duke is extremely busy at this time preparing notes for a lecture," she continues, brushing some hair away from her face. "And that you are not the first to seek his attention during one of these events."
Olnaris sighs before he tries to slink off into the Archives to find another way to reach the Grand Duke. He doesn't make it far before he trips over an antique globe, hitting his head against a shelf. Any feeling of intrigue he had quickly vanished.
Cecilia looks down at her now-sparkly gown. Then up again. Only the presence of the children, (still laughing and cheering), keeps her from going over there to give the actor who 'doused' her a piece of her mind.
She settles for hissing, "Do they have any idea how much this gown cost?!" before she stalks away. There must be some sort of privy where she can clean herself off.
Izalco extends his hand and nods to Lord Meltan.
"Honestly I'm unsure how many times I've been here. Ever since my Uncle secured himself a senate seat the family has had more than enough reason to frequent these halls, but I rarely talk this much."
"And you Lord Meltan? How many have you attended? Enough to know that I might have trouble keeping the eye of our diligent servers at least."
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Yelena notices your dress and with a panicked look on her face begins to dust you off. "So sorry about that, milady, but these clowns do love their jokes. Wyssilka leads them into it, I'm afraid." She looks you up and down and purses her lips. "If you'll follow me to the ladies room, I'm sure we can get you cleaned up in no time at all."
"Somewhere along the line, I'm afraid," Jaspender responds. "It's partly one of the only reasons my uncle...well, second cousin once removed more like, but that's a mouthful...anyways, he let me come along to help watch and talk to people about some relics he felt he needed to show the world." The young man seems bored, almost unconcerned with the event around him. Smiling at you, he offers his arm. "But it is dull here among such dusty things. Perhaps you'll allow me to escort you through the garden?"
The man in front of you lifts himself up, preparing to deliver what is in his mind, surely a scathing response, when he is bumped from behind and some red wine is spilled down his shirt. "Imbecile, you clumsy fool!" he shouts, berating the servant behind him.
"Sorry milord, I'll fetch a cloth right away."
As the servant hurries off, the man scowls at you before walking away. "This isn't over," he growls. Across the hall, you notice an older half-elf raise his glass to you. A complement to a battle well fought, but yet to be won, perhaps.
"Your uncle?" Meltan asks curiously, eyeing your senate badge. "Forgive me, but should I express my condolences? I'm afraid I haven't seen that particular emblem before." Shrugging away the curiosity as he picks up a champagne glass from a servant walking by, he continues. "I've been to a few. Enough to know that the servants recognize power and connection to it." Taking a sip, he smacks his lips loudly. "My employer does his hobnobbing and normally I am left to run errands and take care of the details. Thankfully, my tasks for the evening were minimal, and I can actually enjoy myself for once."
As you wander through the archives, you fail to meet too many people. You notice several other potentials try to meet with the Grand Duke, all of which are met by the same woman with the same response.
Larin wanders through the courtyards, looking at the animals, and begins discussing them with some of the other nobles present. Many of them are impressed by her practical knowledge, especially of her understanding of where supplies for such animals could be found.
As you speak with your new acquaintances or wander the halls of the senate, you notice a slight surge of attendees heading towards the courtyards.
“My friends, colleagues, and assorted enemies, it is wonderful to see you all out in your finery beneath the beautiful stars tonight. With any luck, the weather will be the only thing that refuses to change this evening.
We have all gathered here tonight to honor Master Kalbio of Breezy Creek, a master artisan and true patriot, for his exquisite skill and service to our glorious empire. Master Kalbio demonstrates so eloquently that a heart may be noble regardless of the stature of one’s birth, and while it may be premature, I hope to be the first to congratulate you, sir, on the exaltation you will see tonight and welcome you into the ranks of Taldor’s long-lived aristocracy.
But we gather here to discuss matters of state, as well. And just as the exaltation reminds us that our glorious empire must always look out into the world to refresh the greatness of its leadership, we must all look out into the world around us and see how it has grown. The child-nations our empire birthed—Andoran, Cheliax, Lastwall—have grown strong by examining the great traditions they inherited from our motherland, and embracing those relevant to this new world and discarding those that held them back. So too will we, this very night, examine one of Taldor’s oldest traditions—primogeniture—with eyes wide open, to determine whether it has held us back from the glory and stability our wayward
states have found.
Our obligation tonight is not about one person or one vote in the senate. It is about the nation we love and about ensuring that nation does not fall behind the times. We are the inheritors of mighty Azlant, and I say that we must work together to avoid sharing that old empire’s fate.
Taldor endures!”
Kyralina graciously places her hand on top of the proffered arm, the lightest of touches. "The garden sounds delightful. I suppose even the most interesting relics lose their shine once you are familiar enough with them. And is it not so with most things? The familiar quickly becomes stale and tiresome, while the new is always alluring with its mystery and potential. Although I do suppose that some people do find comfort in the former." She smiles up at her escort, watching him from under half-lowered lashes. "Which one are you, Lord Jaspender, I wonder?" She pitches her voice lower and quieter, seductive and conspiratorial. "I may call you that, yes?"
Once in the courtyard, she is immediately intrigued by the Princess's presence and chuckles at her introduction. "Oh, I have never met the Princess. Have you?"
Noticing the panicked look on Yelena's face, Cecilia shifts her own into something less angry. "Yes, well, I'm afraid I don't quite see the humor, but I suppose the children do." She looks down at her own dress with a rueful expression. "I don't want to take you away from your duties, but if you're free I would appreciate the help."
As she follows Yelena to the ladies room she notices the surge of people heading towards the courtyards and sighs. There's no doubt something important happening there, but she can hardly let herself be seen looking like she's just been hit by a glitterdust spell. Hopefully the others will be able to fill her in later.
Taber smiles good humoredly at his retreating sparring partner. "Of course, I would love to continue our discussion once you are... ready." Seeing the glass raised in salute from the older half-elf, he returns the gesture with a ever so slight bow. He is about to make his way over when he notices the surge of attendants moving toward the courtyard.
I should follow... at best it is something I should see... at worse, one of my companions might need my assistance.
He gives the half-elf an apologetic smile and a nod, hopefully indicating that he will be back soon, and follows the commotion.
Once arriving, he finds himself rewarded for the gamble by seeing the Princess speak. Interesting... Kalbio is to be exhalated? I heard that it was going to be one of the Ulfen guard.... I wonder if she had some influence over that change...
As he listens to the well crafted, passionately delivered speech from the Princess, Tabar cannot help but to notice the errant servant begin to walk into the bee-hives carrying something.
What on Golarian is he holding?
As he looks closer at the bar, he realizes with a start what the compound he is bringing will likely do to the bees within.
Someone, it seems, does not want this speech to go off without a hitch. Well, given our ultimate goal aligns with the Princess's...
Leaning down, he taps the badge once more.
"Someone is trying to stir up the bees in the Courtyard. I am going to try to stop them. Assistance would be appreciated, but might not me necessary."
So whispering, he follows the man.
"Excuse me. I beg your pardon, but I need your help with something that absolutely cannot wait." He calls at the man once within earshot of him.
Enthralled by the princess, Larin doesn't notice anything special going on. The taldan beauty immediately starts clapping when the speech ends, engaged with it and trying to pull the crowd to do the same.
She notices her companions from early arriving at the courtyard too, but doesn't immediately greet or acknowledge them, preferring to keep the distance for now.
"Condolences? Oh no of course not. My Uncle is alive and well but it was not on his invitation I'm here today. I like to use my other social connections as avenues to success as you never know how blood may sour." Izalco smiles.
To think he doesn't recognize a Zespire? Perhaps he knows little of Oparra's powerful houses. He thinks to himself, having expected everyone here to at least know who he was considering his long years in the city.
"I do hope Lord Meltan that you are able to continue enjoying yourself. I however am off to find a server who does not snub me for one of my colleagues of higher station." Izalco bows politely and wanders further in.
Izalco heads toward the servants quarters, strolling in as those he belongs there.
"Oh thank the gods, now this is an immaculately kept store room. Given the large number of nobility here it is quite impressive that you've kept everything so well together! Would one of you escort me to the kitchen? I fear I have a sensitive stomach and I need to verify that it's been kept as cleanly as everything else here!" As he speaks to the servants he looks around to try and find a sympathetic servant who may help him find the kitchen.
As Tabar walks up to the servant, he stops and turns around. "Yes, milord, what can I assist you with?"