Taldan senators require a large and proactive staff to administer their duties, sometimes taking their representatives to all corners of Oppara and beyond. Senate aide badges pin to armor or clothing easily and display one’s loyalty to a specific senator. This brooch features the heraldry of a Taldan noble family, marking the wearer as an aide to the associated senator. All senate aide badges are part of a set, attuned to a single master senator badge during their creation. A creature wearing the pinned brooch can receive telepathic communications sent from the wearer of the master senator badge. Once the wearer of the senate aide badge receives a message, they have 1 minute to send a telepathic reply of up to 25 words. Sending a reply requires a full-round action of concentration. The wearer of the master senator badge can send up to 10 telepathic messages per day, targeting either a specific badge or broadcasting to all badge wearers, and knows the approximate direction and distance to all wearers of senate aid badges attuned to the master badge.
Konstiatina's frown is subtle as she studies Lotheed. "I will trust that these debts are honorable, then."
With that she sets down her cup. "But the matter seems straightforward, if fraught with social perils. I've not attended a Gala in years. Never intended to return, after the last one. But I'm glad to do so under such noble auspices. Anything we can do to further Prince Eutropia's cause is a worthy endeavor."
Marius inclines his head at Lotti but doesn't speak, content to listen as the conversation takes shape.
"I would value your assistance as well, dear." Lotti passes Rose another eclair. "You've a good head on your shoulders, and a second set of eyes could prove most helpful while I'm busy being distracted by distracting others." She glances over to the windowsill where Wobblekins sits completely still save for the tip of his twitching tail. "Or at least a second set of eyes that's not so easily distracted as His Grace's."
Surprised by the request and unexpected compliment from Lotti , of all people, Rose can't help but blink. But she recovers quickly and gives the other woman a smile. "I suppose I can't deny such a passionate plea for aid! And I happen to know just the look for a courtly fortune teller. The courts will be talking about it for months!"
She nods to herself once as if mentally deciding on something. "Unless anyone objects I'll assist Lotti in between the messages then, and try to make some added time for Konstiantina if time permits."
At Lotti's mention of sending messages, Rose regards the badges. "Forgive me for asking a potentially silly question, but if I understand their exact workings correctly, they only allow us to respond to a message, but not send one to the 'Master' badge on our own initiative. So... we simply have to hope that if something very urgent comes up, our Patron will contact us at that exact moment so we can warn the others? Not to mention she only has very few messages to even use. It seems a bit... unrealiable on its own. Perhaps there would be merit in figuring out some way to covertly signal Martella to contact us, first? I suppose I could come up with something our outfits will have to use for this purpose, for one."
"...You... feel the same, a bit 'newer' to this than the others. I know it could be an act, but... that makes me glad. Doubly since you apparently like the more bloody aspects of it and can make up for my meekness, right?"
Bashful, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and messes with her scarf. "Yes," she replies. "Courage."
Martella's candor elicits a genuine and sparkling laugh from the dancer, complete with a few snorts as she hides her mouth behind a hand.
Martella regards Rose as she takes a sip from her mug. "Well, you will be in a an excellent position to spot trouble and inform me or the others. And you have a week to come up with ideas to supplement the magic of the badges, just remember the rule against spellcasting."
She turns to Mirann. "And you, my dear? Are you game for helping me at the Gala?"
Rose seems a bit confused by the very short, two word response, but smiles anyway. "Right. Courage it is!"
Rose nods and waits to see if Mirann also affirms her help for the mission.
After the matter is settled one way or another, she finishes her plate of food and adjusts her shawl as she rises from her chair. "Right. So, each of us has at most eleven days to make our preparations and gather information. I propose we meet at least once before that time as a group to discuss our progress and go over the plan again. Shall we say, one week from now, in a location of Martella's choosing? That should allow some measure of time for improvisation."
On the way out, she smiles back over her shoulder. "Oh, and be sure to visit the Thread Rare at some point before that! High Society fashion takes time to do well."
"Yes, if the Marquess can spare me, but I imagine she'll be quite excited for me to attend," she smiles and hums.
"The Marquess will be at the gala herself, so I don't imagine she would begrudge your presence there." Martella smiles at Mirann, then nods to the group.
"We have a plan then, or the beginnings of one. See to your outfits or whatever else you require, and we shall meet the day before the Gala. There's a little café on Senate Hill, Timeless Garden, I shall see you there at the third afternoon bell."
With that, she takes her leave, giving one final head scritch to Wobblekins.
As an honorably discharged officer of the Phalanx, Marius forgoes the standard dress blues for a slim coat in the midnight blue and gunmetal grey colors of House Erallan--accented by a rakish dueling cloak over his right shoulder. A handful of medals earned in service are pinned to his left breast and he wears his chain shirt under the ensemble. A pair of mid-calf black leather boots completes the look.
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"Now, we'll want to stick somewhat close to the traditional soothsayer image while blending with modern sensibilities," Lotti suggests as she looks through a book of fabrics with Rose. "No bones or any of that sort of stuff. Black is elegant, but so... drab." She lets her finger rest on a rich violet brocade of silk with silver threads woven into abstract patterns of stars and moons. "What do you think of this one? A longer skirt, with a crinoline underneath so it doesn't get caught underfoot. And full-length sleeves - nobody wants to see these wrinkly chicken wings at the Gala." She waves one of her arms around like a bird and laughs. "I'll admit I'm a bit out of my depth with these fancy things, so I'll trust your judgement on the fabric for the upper part of the garment. I'll look for some silver jewelry and a nice shawl - maybe black lace for added solemnity - and lots of tassels to exaggerate movement."
"Oh, and..." Lotti beckons Rose close for a whisper. "I don't suppose you could make a collar and matching bow tie for His Grace, could you?" She winks at the seamstress and grins wickedly.
--------------------------
Later that day, Lotti begins reviewing her internal list of "grandchildren" she's helped relocate. Any of them working in the Senate building nowadays? she thinks to herself. I don't think anyone went there directly - too flashy, and they ask too many questions - but maybe by now one or two are wearing those fancy uniforms...
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"Now, we'll want to stick somewhat close to the traditional soothsayer image while blending with modern sensibilities," Lotti suggests as she looks through a book of fabrics with Rose. "No bones or any of that sort of stuff. Black is elegant, but so... drab."
Those visiting The Thread Rare themselves find it a buzzing hive of activity. Four tailors were working non-stop behind the counter on high-end suits and dresses of varying designs and states of completion. Their busyness contrasted a bit with the otherwise fairly cozy interior. Sample outfits of mostly Taldan green and Blue were showcased in the windows with more exotic ones on additional mannequins inside, some of them animated to make sample movements. One pair of those situated at the very center of the store was even doing a simple waltz with the other, clearly themed at the coming gala.
The entrance was flanked by an armored soldier in tabard on one end and a butler-like figure on the other whose sole job seemed to be greeting and bowing to customers. Inside, a very fat yet seemingly alert guard dressed in a courtier-like outfit watched the proceedings inside the store with his hands behind his back.
The guard outside is dressed in the colours of House Talbot.
Upon spotting Lotti, Rose excuses herself from a discussion with a client, her place being taken by a younger girl who offered the man a drink during the wait.
Rose herself was wearing a conservative yet beautiful emerald green dress adorned with topaz which matched the exact colour of her hair, finished with a silver lion topaz necklace of a lion. Only her lower arms were left bare. ”After all, why would patrons buy anything If I wasn’t willing to wear it myself? Still, one needs their hands and wrists to work properly!”
After exchanging some quick pleasantries, she walks with Lotti and goes over her design. ”Well, you certainly have good taste! The concept is simple enough and a good base to work from. Very reserved, perfect for a mysterious fortune teller. We’ll need to really go all out on the embroidery, though. These people are the wealthiest and most powerful in the country; they spare no expense to show it and look down on those who can’t. We won’t have any boring or dull part on an entertainer's dress on my watch!”
Eyes twinking, a smile slowly makes its way to the corner of her mouth. ”How about this? Silver-threaded dragons flowing down the sleeves on both sides to imply power. At the front in between: a sphinx - a mysterious, prophecy and riddle associated being, showing similarity to Taldor’s lion. And on the back, the holy symbol of Pharasma, lady of Graves, but also prophecy. And even those not knowing the sign could mistake it for a spiraling ball of magic.”
She traces her finger along the ‘many suns’ motive which covers the rest of the dress along the front and back. ”I’m not sure about these things. Perhaps we could replace them with an eye motive, to enforce that ‘all-seeing’ feel. As for the materials: Imperial Silk from Tian Xia for the base, no question. Soft, glamorous, decently easy to work with. But most importantly: very cost-ineffective and instantly recognizable as expensive. Just the way the average Taldan Noble will want it.”
After hearing Lotti’s reaction and settling on a final design, she moves with her to a corner of the store, whereupon a row of translucent sleeves was displayed. A plaque reads: “Sleeves of Many Garments – transform your clothes into your wildest imagination, time and time again! Only 200 gold!”
Rose seems a bit sorrowful for the sight of them, but tries to put it aside. ”Right. About the cost, since this is a service between… ah, ‘friends’, I can craft you the outfit for material cost. If you’d like the advanced version with the adornments, that will be around twenty-five gold while the basic one would be around ten. I can’t make you choose, of course…” She quickly looks around to see if anyone overhears. “But for the love of all the gods don’t pick the cheap one!”
She clears her throat and motions over the sleeves, reverting into what initially sounds like a well-practiced speech. ”As with all purchases here, I dutifully inform you that these… ‘things’ exist, too. The *cough* abominations *cough* very helpful items in front of you can magically change your clothes into any outfit you can think of whenever you put them on, for as long as you wear them, making them a good long-term investment for many different kinds of work."
The itent look on the last sentence was most likely not necessary, but given anyway.
"Of course, the effect will be bound to your own imagination and fashion sense. Thus, the Thread Rare will not be held accountable if you suffer social ridicule for forgetting to provide the necessary jewelry and accessories yourself! We will, however, provide you with sample embroidery and miniature dress models to facilitate their use should you prefer this service.”
She winks at Lotti and waits for her decision.
…But not before adding: ”And the tie for Wobblekins is on me!”
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It's been years since Konstiantina attended court in any official capacity, and all her ballgowns and dresses are no doubt gathering dust in her walk-in closets back at the Mokei family estate.
Moving to the rack at the back of her third-floor apartment, the paladin considers the assortment of clothing she's accumulated ever since going rogue: practical fare, for the most part, ranging from combat leathers to rugged traveling gear, with a collection of cloaks, robes, and minimalist clothing with which she might respectfully attend church.
Nothing gaudy. Nothing fancy. Nothing glittering with jewels or the traditional accoutrements of a young lady looking to exemplify the very best of her noble lineage.
Finger walking between the different coat hangers, Konstiantina frowns at the selections, knowing in her heart what's expected of her, and feeling an immediate sense of rejection.
She walked away from that life. She did nothing so grandiose as swear to never again return to court or don regal attire, but she isn't that pliable, lost young noblewoman any longer.
Nor will she dress the part.
If she must attend the Gala once more, she'll do it on her own terms. She's under no illusions of tricking the jaded nobility and courtesans. They'll recall her rejection of high society, will know the life she now leads, the divine power to which she has dedicated her life. No dress will change that reality.
So why dress as anything other than what she truly is?
Thus she draws out a garment she has seldom worn, one which she doesn't even feel worthy of wearing, but which best exemplifies her new self: a long white chasuble and tunic with red and gold decorations depicting the sun. Official garb of her church, and gifted to her when she was formally recognized as a paladin of Sarenrae.
She holds the vestments out and examines them with a critical eye. Appearing so garbed will draw notice, but then again, she could return to court dressed in the latest and most cutting fashion and still draw snide glances and cutting remarks.
No. She'll not hide what she truly is.
With a curt nod, Konstiantina moves to lay the raiment's on her bed. Now. Where did those nice boots go...?
On the afternoon before the Gala, you make your way to Timeless Garden. Long, golden beams of the setting sun dance through the small cafe’s smoky interior, highlighting breads, cheeses, and wine bottles behind the only counter. Martella sips casually from a steaming mug, dressed in an elegant but reserved gown - at least by Taldan standards. A hand-sized brass cricket buzzes quietly on the tabletop beside her.
"Ah, there you are. Please, order whatever you like; the fig jam is particularly lovely here." The elf behind the counter, dressed in an elegantly tailored tunic in muted earth colours, nods in your direction, awaiting your orders.
Martella blows gently on her mug, displacing a small cloud of steam that smells like cinnamon, cloves, and a hint of white pepper. The temperature has dropped quite sharply in the last few days, and the unseasonable cold warrants a little mulled wine. "I expect your outfits are ready, yes? Are you happy with them?" She takes a sip. "I am looking forward to see them on display tomorrow, but for now tell me, was there anything you wished to discuss?"
Working furiously throughout the week to finish both the group's and other last minute purchases for the Gala, Rose remains in her store for most of it. Fortunately, the visiting clientèle tended to be a useful source of gossip and information, and Rose spins her moments of idle chatter between taking measurements and offering advice towards subjects which would be useful for the party's Gala tasks.
Rose enters the meeting slightly late, taking with her a long and flat black bag suspended on a clothes hanger which she hands to Mirann. "There! Your Vudrani robe, in... 'bharatanatyam' style, I believe? I admit we had to rent some reference material for that one, but I hope you'll be happy with the result. I know we are!"
Leaving it to Mirann to decide whether or not to reveal all its intricacies to the others now or later, she quickly sits down and opens a smaller bag from which she produces a set of translucent sleeves. These, she slides to Marcus.
"As ordered. And as promised..."
She reaches again, and out comes what looks like a child's doll, which she promptly also hands to the only male member of the group. "Oh, you thought I was joking?" She grins. "You see, this artfully crafted 'Miniature Mannequin' wears an intricate luxury model of the suit design you mentioned, which you're going to memorize up to the smallest possible details. The sleeves will transform themselves to your mental image of what you wish to wear, after all, and your mind's eye of it has to be flawless for it to adequately impress such public."
The doll is soon accompanied by a small folder of sketches. "If you wish to get even fancier, these are more examples of common embroidery patterns you could 'think' onto them wherever you wish. Now, you may wonder: 'Why not just give me a drawing of the suit, instead?' And that would be a fair point, except it's less detailed and would deprive me the pleasure of embarassing you, wouldn't it?"
After a playful wink, she finally turns to Lotti and hands her the last package.
"And that would be everyone, I think, since Konstiantina didn't order anything. I hope I didn't miss any important conversation yet?" Rose asks upon completing her deliveries. "We've been so swamped with orders that it was very hard to get away for even a second. I think I will splurge on hand cream to get rid of all the needle-chafing..." she shudders and rubs her hands together, then reaches for a biscuit.
Martella tries to hide a smile by taking another sip from her mug. "Excellent work, Rose. I'm sure those of you who wish to impress at the Gala will do so."
She then proceeds to review the relevant information about your targets and objectives.
"My uncle is a merchant. Says he’s getting coins from all over the old colonies this Exaltation week. Maybe some of the colonies are starting to regret leaving the empire."
"I would love to be inside the senate gala. You know the building has been rebuilt five times? They have rooms they didn’t even know they had!"
"Ugh, Eutropia brought that disgusting mutt of hers to the Elbistan Tournament last spring, and the wretched beast drooled on the silk table dressings. She’d never get away with such impropriety if her father weren’t pulling strings to protect her."
"High Strategos Pythareus is back in the capital. I guess that means the marriage between him and the princess is back on. He’s so handsome; he’ll make a lovely emperor."
Countess Abrielle Pace: A countess and member of the senate from the western borders of Taldor, Abrielle Pace seeks to advance by any means available.
Duke Leonard Centimus: An attending duke of Grand Duchess Cisera Tiberan of Tandak prefecture, Leonard Centimus is an intellectual and tinkerer whose head for systems makes him a good administrator, if a little awkward with people.
High Strategos Maxillar Pythareus: Nearly every Taldan recognizes commander-in-chief Maxillar Pythareus as Grand Prince Stavian III’s right hand and a fanatical supporter of the throne. He believes in political might and economic stability through military supremacy, advocating for new wars of conquest against wayward colonies like Andoran and Cheliax, or even Qadira.
Princess Eutropia Stavian: If the senate succeeds in repealing primogeniture, Princess Eutropia becomes Taldor’s heir apparent. She has dedicated much of her life to helping her people and her nation when she can, occasionally even defending her philosophy and political participation in duels.
Did Lotti take the physical dress, the sleeves of many garments, or both?
"A fascinating leap of logic with that engagement between the Princess and the Strategos," Lotti muses over her coffee, tucking Rose's delivery under her seat. "Does Her Highness put any stock in it?"
A shadow passes over Martella's features. "It was the Grand Prince's idea. Needless to say, the Lioness was... less than enamored." She inhales and smiles again, putting her mug down and reaching into her bag for a satchel and a wooden box, which she places on the table.
"But enough of that, I have brought you a little something to help you with your endeavours, and in case of... extreme emergency. I really hope you won't need them, but better to be prepared."
She open the box first, which is divided into multiple small compartments and lined with thick velvet. Several vials are nestled in the compartment, and she points them out.
"These two are liquid blade, in case you need a weapon fast. This is soul stimulant - I don't imagine there will be many vampires in attendance at the Gala, but you never know! These two vials should see more practical application," she nods at Lotti. "Dust of illusion. These four are perfume, please don't mix them up with the others. This one is woody, with notes of amber, leather, cedar and bergamot, a good fit for Marcus and Konstiantina, I believe. If you're looking for something sweeter, this one has ambergris, jasmine and orange bloom - a touch seductive, if that's your thing. This third one is fresh and airy, not really for evening wear but I imagine that some of you don't like the heavier perfumes. Neroli oil, lemongrass and green tea, with a touch of violet. And the last one is a gourmand - if you wear it, people might want to eat you!" She grins. "Layered caramel, vanilla and coffee, with a heart of red ginger oil."
She opens the satchel, and several small clay balls roll out. "You have here eight smoke pellets. They don't last long, but might help create a distraction, if you need it. Be careful with them, you don't want to accidentally break them."
A shadow passes over Martella's features. "It was the Grand Prince's idea. Needless to say, the Lioness was... less than enamored."
"Why I'd have never guessed! You're telling us an arranged marriage between two authority figures with completely opposed political standpoints *didn't* work out?"
...Is what she might have said, but the look on Martella's face made her reconsider. This was before her time, too, and who knows how involved the other woman had been?
"It's... sad, in a way," she begins instead. "Why did the Grand Prince pick a match for her that was this poor? Allegedly, in her youth, the bond between them had been a lot better - before prince Carrius died and Stavian became withdrawn. Maybe if they'd maintained that warmer relationship throughout the years, things would have turned out better."
On Lotti's comments, she nods. "Indeed. And the princess spurning this arrangement was as much as fifteen years ago. If the citizens of today still want it to be true, it has to be a sign of both their popularities. And that both ends of the political climate have that support doesn't bode well for the stability of Taldor, I think, especially with the volatile Primogeniture issue being voted on soon."
Rose remains silent as Martella shares her gadgets with the group. At the end, though, she chuckles. "'Soul stimulant'? I see your sense of humor hasn't dulled a day, dear Patron. I'll be sure to let you know if I encounter any noble who's lost their soul to the courts!"
Near the end of the meeting, Rose takes a sip of her tea and realizes she was stalling. She was the one who suggested having this extra meeting, after all, and all information everyone had gathered in the meantime had already been shared.
She takes a deep breath. "All right. There was one other thing I wanted to say."
Sitting a little straighter, she looks at each of the other members of the group. "I'm sure you had your suspicions, or maybe you did some investigating of your own. Either way, my real name isn't Rose. It's actually Raesilia Talbot. Duke Talbot, who supports Pythareus, is my father. That... complicates what I can and can't do. I'm also related to Count Zespire, whose ships were raided in Ridonport, from my mother's side."
She makes an apologetic gesture. "If i'm honest, I'm not entirely comfortable sharing this since I know virtually nothing about some of you, Lotti and Mirann mostly. But I don't think it can be helped, as I'll be expected to attend the gala as myself, and I don't want this to throw anyone off. So, for what it's worth, I apologize. I don't think this endangers our tasks if we avoid drawing unneccesary attention to me from my father or my brother. Is that agreeable to you all? If you have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them."
Marius blinks, then takes a bite of his food to cover a chuckle. "Is your father away of your opposing political stances already? It would be good to know now if I should avoid being seen near you."
"We've had many... shall we say, 'polite disagreements' about primogeniture before. Which may or may not always have been provoked on his part." Rose waves her hand and offers an apologetic smile.
"That said, I've gradually reeled this back in the last few years. I think he views past arguments as a rebellious phase I've mostly grown over, but who really knows? He might be paranoid that I resemble mother too much, which is understandable given that she threw tea all over the High Strategos at last year's Gala. Which was, in fact, partly due to a vehement disagreement on primogeniture. It was... ah, quite the scandal."
She grins. "I suppose I do take after my mother."
Martella cradles her own mug protectively in mock alarm. "I do trust that you will refrain from intentionally spilling anything on anyone tomorrow, dear."
Mirann takes two vials of perfume, dropping them down the front of her blouse. She says nothing about Rose's reveal.
"I'm certain the Lady Martella has quite a bit more to lose from anything you might do at the Gala than I do," Lotti answers with a gentle smile. "And if she trusts you, I see no reason not to do so myself."
Lotti looks down at her lap before looking back up with a sorrowful expression on her face. "That being said, I'm afraid I must let you all in on a secret as well." The gnome beckons the younger tall folks in closer before whispering, "I... I'm afraid that His Grace Sir Jeffrey Wobblekins the Third... looks absolutely adorable in Lady Talbot's finest creation to date!" She gleefully holds up a very resigned Wobblekins, who is wearing a crisp white collar embroidered with golden lions and a luxurious bowtie in a deep purple brocade. "Yes, he'll be the most handsome fellow at the Gala, won't he?"
"Mrwuu..."
"He certainly shall," Marius agrees solemnly.
Rose smile gradually initially fades during Martella's and Lotti's reactions, but the sight of Sir Wobbelkin and his tie seems to re-rouse her spirits.
"He will have all the court's women doting over him, no doubt." she assents, then drinks the rest of her tea.
"So, if there are no changes to the plan due to all this information, I assume we're ready to go? I'll need to report back to the store soon, I'm afraid."
"No changes to my plans, dear," Martella replies. She rises and sweeps a few crumbs off her dress. "If there are no further questions or concerns, I will see you tomorrow night at the Gala. Just be sure to wear your badges in a visible spot."
If no objections are voiced, she takes her leave.
The next day, you make your way towards the Senate building, wearing your respective outfits and accoutrements. Martella has warned you to be there at least three hours before the start of the Gala, and as you ascend Senate Hill and the venerable building itself comes into view, you understand why.
A line several hundred feet long snakes its way towards the hundred-step stairs that front the grandiose, T-shaped edifice. The people in the line seem to be senators' aides, staff, minor nobles and guests like yourselves. As you take your place at the back of the line, several street vendors that have been hovering nearby beeline towards you, attempting to sell their wares.
"Taldan flags for the true patriot! High quality! Great for kids!"
"A shard of the Shield of Aroden, with certificate of authenticity from the Church of Aroden! Once in a lifetime opportunity!"
"Figurines of famous historical figures, hand carved and hand painted!"
"It's gonna be a long wait, have some snacks! Jubilee pies, yonder tarts, freshly baked!"
Indeed, the line seems to be moving at a snail's pace, which leaves plenty of time to admire the carved white marble of the Senate, and to listen to the grumbling and protestations of others in the line. However, amongst the many complaints and touting of one's importance based on association with various nobles and senators, Marius and Rose do hear a potentially useful tidbit.
"People claim Duke Centimus is a gentleman, but he gave me the dirtiest look for asking about his accident."
Two hours pass, and several figures which are either recognizable as senators and important nobles, or pointed out as such by others standing in line, begin to appear and make their way directly up the stairs and into the building. As your gaze returns from following one such personage, you find standing in front of you a young woman wearing the gold-embroidered green uniform of the Senate Guard. Her dark hair is cut in a rounded shape that just covers her ears, with a short fringe that frames her high forehead. Her light blue eyes contrast strikingly with her olive complexion. The straight posture and the severe expression hint at her presence being more than a social call. She clicks her heels together and beckons the group out of the line.
"Please step this way and follow me. You have been selected for a random inspection. I trust you will cooperate." Without waiting for an answer, she turns on one heel and begins striding towards the base of the stairs that lead to the entrance in the Senate.
As he waits in line and wishes he'd had the foresight to bring his own snacks, Marius overhears the comment about Duke Centimus and suppresses the urge to glower at the gossip. "Proof of his gentlemanly bona fides, since he didn't deck them where they stood," he grumbles just loudly enough for Rose to hear.
When the guard singles them out, the hairs on the back of Marius' neck stand up and he gives the guard a swift check for concealed weapons or nervous ticks. Friend or foe?
When he notes the familial resemblance, the nobleman relaxes and decides to follow Mirann's lead.
Rose observes some of the street vendors during the wait until her eyes fall upon a colourful bakery wagon named 'Flour Power' with an impressive assortment of pastries on display. The sweet and savory aromas carried on the soft breeze evoke a sorrowful sigh from the young noble. "Seems like Rovalio and his son are doing good business today. Totally deserved in my book! I only wish I could eat one of their famed tarts right now. But... the dress. And just when it's so crowded no one would catch me at it, too...!"
Partly as a distraction, partly to calm her nerves, she attempts to make better use of her time outside, such as by wading towards more useful information amidst the sea of idle complaints and hurt ego's surrounding them - until they found something.
"Proof of his gentlemanly bona fides, since he didn't deck them where they stood."
Rose chuckles. "Maybe. Or maybe something just blew up in his face? Would be quite the entertainment to see him arrive with a visage covered in soot! Though... I do wonder what this 'intellectual' was tinkering with. Assuming what we know of him is realiable and related, of course."
When Marius goes rigid, Rose's eyes dart from Marius to the new guard to Mirann, then back to the already retreating form of the guard. "A women of very few words, apparently. Almost reminds me of someone we know well! I suppose we should follow?"
Konstiantina bears their weight with good humor and patience; she purchases tartlets for her friends, and is willing to examine every spurious talisman and totem that is offered forth, though she politely refuses to part with any more coin.
At times though, when the others are engaged in conversation, she becomes remote, her gaze focused on the distant Senate Building, a slight frown marring her otherwise placid features. This falls away the moment her attention is drawn back to the group, however, and she politely waves away any questions.
When the guard stops beside them, she considers the woman carefully, but fails to make any connections; her friends' willingness to go along with the inspection matches her own desire to comply with any such reviews, so she follows at the rear of the group without comment.
"She is sensitive..." Lotti intones dramatically in a deep voice. Her hair is heaped impossibly high on her head, bobbing and swaying as if held up by hopes and positive thoughts alone (and maybe some magic). "Yes, her inner eye is open to the hidden strings that guide us all! Just as I foretold! Will her knowledge bring weal, or will it bring woe? The Lady of Mysteries will reveal all, and we must be open to her lessons if we are to know our futures!" Dramatically she glides after the guard.
Mirann wears a traditional Vudrani folk dance costume, a beautiful red, gold and orange get up with pleats sewn between the legs, and shimmering embroidered hibiscuses on the bust. She is all smiles as they wait in line for the party, eager and excited, and each passing street vendor tickles her fancy and makes her feel special and important. She pins the unicorn and linnorm brooch on a scrap of fabric on her wrist.
The dancer's eyebrows raise substantially upon seeing her sister for the first time in several years (especially in such a context), but she tries her hardest to imitate her sister's stony-faced stoicism and give nothing away. If Kathann desires they be strangers, then they are strangers. But it has been three or four years, what if she doesn't recognize her? And it is peculiar, Mirann could have sworn Kathann was supposed to be a resident actor in Cassomir!
Nonetheless, she follows wordlessly.
The guard woman escorts you to the base of the steps and a little to the side, away from the line. Curious glances are directed your way as you pass by. Once out of earshot, she introduces herself.
"My name is Kathann Zalar, I am a member of the senate's protection detail, and we have a common friend." She glances at Mirann, her tone softening a little. "I know you must have many questions, Mirann, but it must wait." She turns her attention to the rest of the group, asking to see what is in various bags, purses and pockets. The inspection is swift and thorough; she quickly spots the more objectionable items (hidden weapons, smoke pellets, vials), and rather than confiscating them, she offers tips on how to better conceal them.
Once Kathann is finished with her "inspection", she escorts you up the steps and to the entrance into the Senate. Nodding at the guards posted there, she turns on her heel and descends towards the line again. The guards flanking the entrance nod in response, and one of them holds the door open for you. "Welcome to the Exaltation Gala. I see you have badges, so all is in order."
Inside, flags and streamers in green and blue decorate the Arcade of Triumphs - a vast gallery that celebrates Taldor's abundant military and political glories. Banners and trophies line the halls of the arcade, some displayed openly while others rest behind intricate glass cases, while armour stands and exhibit cases present countless artifacts belonging to great heroes and soldiers. A score of Taldan Phalanx troops stand at attention throughout the gallery, acting as both ceremonial honour guards for the senate and as guides to some of the military assets on display.
Close to a hundred nobles, senatorial aides, senators, and visiting dignitaries mingle in the arcade, and more can be seen through the open doors that lead to the courtyard beyond.
Konstiantina is mystified by this development, and only when the guard addresses Mirann directly does she start to see any manner of resemblance. Still, there's precious little time to inquire, and she quietly decides to chalk this intervention up to Martella and her connections, and for that she gives thanks.
"Well then," she says to the others as they sweep into the Senate, "I suppose we'd best get to work." Her smile is warm, encouraging. "Sarenrae's blessings upon you all."
And with that she moves forward through the crowd, nodding politely to those who greet her, ignoring the stares that her vestments draw, and making her way deeper into the complex. Her intention is to penetrate all the way into the Senate chamber itself, but the princess' presence and her own growing reluctance to face so many of the men and women who disgusted her before cause her to slow down and stop in the courtyard.
There, she mingles with the guests, half of whom are covertly watching the princess, and engages in light conversation, an art which comes naturally to her after having grown up in this environment.
Acknowledging Kathan's assistance with a polite nod, Marius steps into the gallery with a good-natured smile. "We'll back here after, to toast our successes, mm?" he gives the others a conspiratorial wink and strides into the crowd of mingling worthies in the Arcade of Triumphs.
Gracefully weaving past servants and knots of conversation, noting the locations of various exhibits, persons of note, guards--anything that might be useful. The High Strategos and his retinue of aides and hangers-on is easy to spot, and after a moment Marius spots his chance: a young man gesticulating at a row of gleaming helms and droning on about this or that battle to a very bored and somewhat desperate-looking young woman. The pair also happens to be standing in the perfect spot to keep an eye and ear on the High Strategos. With a few questions Marius inserts himself into the conversation, freeing the young woman to make her excuses and depart.
Breathtaking gardens break up the space between the front part of the Senate building and its main body with the two wings on either side. Catered patios divided by low wrought iron fences, coordinated military displays, and even a makeshift zoo of imported outlandish animals and magical beasts fill the few open spaces here, even including a small hive of bees busy pollinating the exotic flowers.
A large cluster of people, mostly women and mostly younger, congregate on one side of the rectangular pool, and one can surmise that Princess Eutropia is at the center of that. Konstiantina finds a few Qadiran diplomats with a cleric of Sarenrae among them, and a spirited theological discussion ensues. They are rather taken with Konstiantina's angelic ancestry, considering it a sign of divine favour from both deities.
Two Phalanx guards stand on either side of a prominent display to one side as a middle-aged in scholarly dress fusses with the minute positioning of several exhibits. A large banner above reads "By generosity of Earl Calhadion Vernisant". On the exquisite velvet cloth below it five items rest in fitted slots: an elaborate silk fan and an ornate spyglass, both looking a little weathered if in good condition, a leather-bound journal, a finely crafted buckler, and a silver dagger with beautiful filigree around the grip and along the blade.
Marius saves the young woman from death by boredom, but the young man is rejuvenated by the sudden and unexpected interest, and grabs Marius by the arm to show him another absolutely fascinating display a little ways away. He introduces himself as the second-oldest son of a very minor noble family, here by invitation from his military commander, who is a Knight in the Taldan Horse.
"Then they'll wait," is the only reply or acknowledgement her sister receives. She does however, use the moment to secure her thieves' tools a little better.
Once inside, she immediately follows the advice her patron gave her about the gala, heading straight for the courtyard to perform.
Despite her outfit and her skill as a dancer, to make her official debut in the scene, she cedes to the Marquess's preference and sings. She sings a traditional Taldan song, a mournful tune about the Tarrasque's rampage across Taldor and its destruction of Oppara. The song never once calls out the names of any of the figures in the story, blaming simply "the beast."
Mirann's performance is exquisite, and she soon finds herself surrounded by admirers and would-be patrons. The impressions of her performance quickly spread beyond the courtyard, and soon there is talk about her talent and her allure in several areas of the Senate, often in conjunction with speculation about this or that personality and what they might think of such a song.
"Well then," she says to the others as they sweep into the Senate, "I suppose we'd best get to work." Her smile is warm, encouraging. "Sarenrae's blessings upon you all."
"Yes, you too. And... um, if you need any help, please don't hesitate to ask. We're here for you!" Rose's eyes uncertainly fall down Konstiantina's acolyte robes and she gives a kind, if hesitant, return smile.
Dressed in an exquisite green silken dress with a golden 'flower and stem' embroidery pattern trailing from her right shoulder to thigh, further amplified by her Lion pendant, tantalizing spice parfume and a hairclip containing three glowing blue flowers, she embodied the other end of the dresscode's spectrum. Whether the colour pattern matched the nation's flag on purpose or because it just perfectly complimented her hair and eyes was left to the viewer's imagination.
The look was a statement that she was in her element and knew how to play. It also affirmed that out of her normal conservative outfit, especially when aided by her fashion, Rose looked quite stunning - even compared to most other women present.
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She then peers over the crowd and takes a single, deep breath. "Time to play this part again..." She closes her eyes and opens them with a look of steel determination. "Never mind. Good luck, everyone. I'll do my best to aid where I can. Oh, and don't forget what the judge told us about reading others! It might come in handy."
With that, she departs and heads up the stairs to the gallery, figuring the good view and central location would be a good place to coordinate her courier activities from. Lacking explicit instructions for the moment, she instead mingles with the nobles from other major families she recognized, also stopping by a food stall to compliment Amalia, a niece of hers in the culinary sector, for her delicious creations.
Taking a short break from her initial foray over the gallery, she motions some of the younger and louder children closer and hands out a batch of beautiful finger puppets she'd knitted from her handbag, styled after famous Taldan knights and princesses. Only partly to uphold an image of being good with children, she enjoys playing with them by indulging their imaginary tales for a while before continuing.
The impromptu puppet show gains the appreciation of both the children and their adult supervisors. Rose also has an excellent vantage point onto the floor below and is able to observe the comings and going of the crowd on the Senate floor, discerning patterns that would make it easier to navigate.
Lotti doesn't even try to imitate Rose's effortless gracefulness, but flounces and bobs after Marius to the display cases in the Arcade of Triumphs. "I am sensing a presence here..." she intones dramatically, holding a hand flat above an ornately carved knife. "Ah, so strong! So mysterious..."
Several heads turn curiously at Lotti's proclamation, but soon they are distracted by growing murmurs and soon most people begin to make their way to the courtyard. Rose can also see this from the gallery, as can Marius in the arcade, while Mirann and Konstiantina have an almost front row view of what is about to transpire.
Dozens of senators, well-wishers, and hangers-on have begun to gather around Princess Eutropia Stavian. Lady Gloriana Morilla loudly clinks her glass and declares that Princess Eutropia would like to address the gathering. With the announcement, the crowd gives Eutropia some space, and Gloriana helps the princess climb onto the garden’s stone railing to be seen and heard above the throngs.
"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."
A scattering of polite laughter sounds from the crowd.
"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."
Both Marius and Lotti notice a servant emerging from one side of the crowd and heading towards the apiary located near the edge of the courtyard. Lotti also notices that they are holding a strangely coloured alchemical bar.