Amandine smiles slightly at Count Vyband's roundabout come-on. "Who says you're not trouble now? Thank you for the the book suggestions Count Vyband, and the wine tip. If it happens I ever do find myself with a bottle Vernisant, I will save a taste for you."
She turns to the newly arrived man. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance Viscount Vercander, Amandine Santon at your service, of course. A handsome imbecile you say? Well, what glass is ever more than half full, if you know what I mean. The real question is..," Amandine raises an eyebrow wickedly, "is he a pliant imbecile? That plus handsome is not a bad package at all." With a wink she adds "if he is, maybe we can talk more later."
Amandine approaches the third, silently pink man. "Forgive me, I did not hear your name. I am Amandine Santon."
Damrak surreptitiously glances down at the nobleman Countess Pace has pointed at, to see if he can recall anything pertinent about Lord Selemy.
No. Complete blank. Oh well. He can always ask Lady Vernisant later on, if needed.
On hearing the Countess's sister propose a drink, he swiftly acts, nimbly plucking two glasses from the tray of a passing servant and offering them with a bow to the two noblewomen.
"Ladies." His voice is at its low, rumbling best. "Please, accept these drinks. In return, would you allow me the honour of conversing with you?"
Tanglefoot pauses his mock joust for a moment to mimic a trumpet sennet, before taking on the role of a herald, "For the next contest here at the Prince's Tourney, we have the greatest horseman in Taldor, the massive and wondrous Grand Duke of Avin. And against him, we have Sir Maxillar Pythareus, a rising star with a bright future. A contest for the ages."
Tanglefoot is of course referring to the famous joust which was the first of the eleven championships the High Strategos won at the Prince's Tourney, where young Maxillar unseated his opponent in the first tilt.
He re-assumes his jousting stance and turns to face the noble with whom he had been jesting. "I shall be the Grand Duke, and you shall be the greatest knight of them all, Lord Pythareus."
He salutes, and begins trotting forward, with the intention of taking a great fall when they get close, as did the Grand Duke.
"Have at thee, upstart!" he shouts, pretending to be the Grand Duke.
"I am not sure about that my father says that Lady Morilla wears so many false faces she has likely forgotten her real one! But her and the Princess are supposedly firm friends." One woman says tittering.
"Its usually hard to tell what anyone is thinking politics being plitics, and so many are trying to keep there enemies closer that it is difficult to tell who truly opposes whom! Honestly just thinking about it is enough to induce a headache."
The Baron frowns, "I do take your point, and but is it right? There are competent women certainly, but are there enough of them? If we suppose half of the noble heirs are women, and only a fraction of them have been trained to the role, and many of those will face the ire of both heir their traditionalist fathers and brothers are we doing them a service, or putting them in significant danger? And will the people they govern suffer for their lack of training? But I suppose there is no practical way to ease into such a change."
The retiring fellow flushes and mouths something, before realizing he is inaudible and squeaking, "Jeffenrie Mortasan, Cartographer."
Viscount Vercander sighs theatrically, "Pliant? Not especially, but easily manipulated... Yes. A nice enough boy, but well, not the most reliable. And do not mind Jeffenrie he is frightfully bad with new people, but you should see his work, his decorative pieces are such works of art that I have commissioned several of lands that exist only in his imagination... It amuses me to lead my guests astray with flights of fancy, and more often than not listen to them brag about how they know somebody who has travelled there!"
Countess Pace issues a braying laugh, "Sister look your *hic* Knight in shining Abad... Aba... Abadarmor! Converse away. I am Countess Abrielle Pace, and this is my late brother's widow Katrianne who is looking for a new husband so she can stop being a burden. I jest of course."
Pale cheeked Katrianne takes the drinks with an inclination of her head in thanks and places one firmly in the hand of the Countess,
"Please forgive... my manners Sir. May I ask how we ought to address you?"
"I am afraid I do not know much about the High Strategos, but I did belong to a man who courted his maternal grandmother for half a decade. A fine figure of a woman, dinged me up good when she insisted on sparring with us! It is only thanks to the tender ministrations of Lady Copernia over there that I have regained my lustre, a fine woman, the one with the glasses over there. if any of you happen to speak with her do remember me to her. A firm, but gentle hand with the polish..." The pike rambles cheerfully.
You see a woman standing by the table displaying the Vernisant artifacts cleaning her spectacles.
Tangle-foot's opponent chuckles and casts a glance at Pythareus who shakes his head wryly,
Putting on a deep monotone voice and raising his shoulders the officer says, "Cease your prattle words will not settle this!"
Then he urges his imaginary steed forward his horsemanship fine enough that it really seems as if he may be atop an invisible steed despite the frivolity of the situation. The High Strategos nods his chin in approval.
Chana approximates a titter along with the rest of them, even adding an "I know, right?" before excusing herself to look for someone with more of a level head to talk to. Under her veil, she whispers to Snips.
'Those airheads were a bust, little guy. Think you can sniff out someone who has an idea who might be against the princess?'
Having said that she sniffs once or twice, on the off chance that a good lead strikes her (or strikes her nose, as it were). She takes another loop around the courtyard and keeps her eyes and ears open for any mention of Senators.
Amandine chats a little longer with the three men, then makes her excuses (there are still so many other things to see in here) and moves on. She has things that must be done and it's time to get to work.
She walks over to the collection of Vernisant heirlooms but doesn't pay them more than passing attention yet. Instead she approaches the woman with glasses.
"Excuse me Madame, I noticed you have been standing here for some time. Are those items displayed in the boxes yours?"
Tanglefoot gallops forward comically towards his opponent, his arm pointed forward as a lance, and his other arm held aloft as if brandishing a shield.
As the mock riders draw near one another, Tanglefoot takes a magnificent spill onto the floor, as if unseated with great force.
He nimbly leaps to his feat, turns to Pythareus, and bows deeply, like an actor at curtain call.
|
Olivia only listened for a little bit longer before excusing herself. She was not in the mood to hear a pike reminisce about polishing sessions. It was as she left that she noticed the woman with the glasses, Lady Copernia. Miss Santon was there, gently leaning over a table as she and the Lady spoke. Olivia lingered for just a moment.
It took a moment before she noticed the Vernisant artifacts. She had been planning on leaving them alone for Amandine, but suddenly a devious idea sprouted within the paladin's mind. With a deep breath (and a mental prayer to The Inheritor), Olivia walked over to the two of them.
With extra effort put into an attempt to seem graceful rather than militant, Olivia gently raises her glass above her shoulder like some gossiping noble-lady and says "Oh Miss, may I introduce you to The Lady Copernia, a *savant in history*. And my Lady, may I introduce you to miss..."
“Baron, I cant believe that you feel that just because an heir is a man he is somehow more competent than a woman. There are plenty of noble men who were raised to inherit and then did a terrible job of it. Some, like yourself, are a great show of Taldor’s nobility but I feel your gender did very little to prepare you for what you’ve done for Taldor. Perhaps some of the noble women who would inherit are not quite ready, but if that were true we should be making every effort to prepare them. Our nation has been a source of culture and influence for generations. I feel we risk falling by the wayside if we always look to what we have done before instead of what we could do in the future. As you yourself said, there is no way to go forward but to take the first step. And if I have not convinced you by this point perhaps hearing Princess Eutropia’s speech in a few minutes will make a salient point that I cannot. After all, she is the perfect example of a woman who could do great things by inheriting. Perhaps we can speak again after the speech. Whatever decision you come to today, though I hope it aligns with my own, I thank you for talking honestly with me today. A better Taldor is all I wish to see and I feel that you and I are of one mind in that belief if nothing else,” Khalil said before bowing deeply to the man. He wasn’t sure if he had made the points he wanted to fully. He seemed as though he perhaps swayed the man a bit but it was so hard to read. Besides he did not want to miss out on the speech and he felt as though he needed to make amends for seeming to push Kalbio out of their conversation.
Khalil worked his way towards where the man from Breezy Creek was getting his drink and guestured up to some of the tapestries on the walls of the Senate chamber as he spoke, “Are any of these your work? I feel that they must have something of yours on display and I would love to see it. Perhaps you would accompany me to hear the Princess’s speech in the courtyard and then tell me a little of Breezy Creek? I myself come from a rather small town and I find myself missing it amidst the bustle of Oppara.”
"Countess." Damrak nods his head politely, before giving her sister a more genuine smile. "I have no title, alas - I am plain and simple Damrak. Damrak Lendar." He takes a small sip from his glass, for the benefit of appearance more than anything else.
"So, are you looking forward to the Princess's speech, later? Or simply here for the vote?"
He does his best to listen to the reply, to gauge where Countess Pace's loyalty lies.
"...Amandine Santon" she says, finishing Olivia's sentence.
"It is very nice to meet you Lady Copernia. I am interested in history as well, although really I'm just an avid reader, not any kind of expert. Where do your interests lie?"
Your inquiries and intrigues are soon overshadowed as it becomes impossible to miss that something significant is happening. The well-dressed and jewel-bedecked crowds within the Senate building no longer simply mill and amble around. Instead, they move with purpose and almost in unison.
Excited whispers catch your ears and announce the same thing: Princess Eutropia has arrived.
Nobles and courtiers flock towards the Senate Courtyard, seeking either to crowd the gardens or stake a spot on the gallery overlooking the vista.
Chana snaps out of a deep daze. She had been looking into the eyes of the unicorn in its enclosure for what felt like weeks, maybe even a month. She looks around with alarm, hoping that she hadn't missed anything.
''Ain't it a sad sight Snips? I never saw one of these things in person before, but now that I'm looking at it... it just seems sad to keep it here for these upnosers to gawk at. Maybe after we're done with Martella's job, we can see about letting it loose?'
Returning her attention to the human occupants of the courtyard, it quickly becomes clear that everyone is converging on the spot. Chana takes up as good of a position as she can in the front. She's heard about this Princess Eutropia, but never seen her in person. This would be a good chance to judge her up close.
Dozens of senators, well-wishers, and hangers-on have gathered around the newly arrived Princess Eutropia Stavian, who managed to slip into the Gala unnoticed and unannounced. Her subtle entrance foiled, the princess has already attracted a gaggle of several dozen nobles eagerly clinging to her very presence.
The princess' companion, one of the few people present whom Eutropia seems comfortable to have very close at hand, loudly clinks her glass.
"Attention," the companion calls, seeking to quiet the rumbling raucous of the crowd. It helps that she stands tall among the rest of her noble peers. Although her attire is of the finest quality, it remains far more understated than the ostentatious nobles clustered around.
Murmurs from other attendees nearby, coupled with your combined knowledge of the nobility, identifies this woman as Lady Gloriana Morilla, although more in-depth knowledge of the noblewoman may vary among each of you.
"Princess Eutropia," Lady Gloriana declares, "In order to honor the consideration and attendance you have all graciously given her, would like to offer an address."
With the announcement, the crowd grows hushed and shifts back, providing the princess with some space. Meanwhile, Lady Gloriana helps Princess Eutropia as she climbs atop the garden's stone railing to be better seen and heard.
As Chana peers at the gathering nobles, she notices Olivia at the edge of the crowd. Chana pushes her way through the crowd, offering polite apologies to anyone upset, and goes to join the paladin. She murmurs "We might want to talk afterwards. I'm having no luck. Maybe we can help each other?" But before she has a chance to elaborate further, Morilla begins to speak.
While Morilla provides an introduction, Chana takes a moment to look at the assembling crowd through her veil. While she'd had poor luck thus far in gauging opposition to the Princess among the senators, this would be a prime opportunity to spot any potential opposition. She watches for any clusters of people that appear to bristle or turn hostile at the Princess' appearance.
Photinè sweeps in with the rest of the crowd, purposefully keeping near the edge of the gardens where she can both see and be seen.
A long feather adorns her fashionably-arranged hair, and wickedly pointed heels are just visible below the hem of her emerald-green dress, making her among the tallest at the gala.
Her dark eyes drift between the hushed masses and the Princess ascending the stone railing.
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"My friends, colleagues, and assorted enemies," Princess Eutropia begins, "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."
The glow of the magic lamps that adorn the gardens highlight the distinctive Stavian family cheekbones and nose, a clear inheritance from her father. From her pediment atop the railing, the light and night air silhouettes her slim, athletic build. It also serves to highlight the contrast between the ostentatious jewelry she wears and her hair and gown, both of which are far more conservative than most of the arrayed audience.
"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."
As the princess speaks, Chana scans the crowd and finds a sea of masks. While she can easily identify the souls who truly look up to the princess, such as the soon-to-be exalted Kalbio, and those who steadfastly stand by her side, like Lady Gloriana, she can also discern those who hide their contempt behind a patrician smile - as well as those whose ire simply will not be masked.
You also notice a round-faced man seated in a mechanical wheelchair. As he watches the princess speak, you can observe barely perceptible nods of approval.
Politely taking his leave of the discussion he was in with Countess Pace, Damrak carefully follows everyone out to listen to the princess. He has heard much about her, but never before had the opportunity to see her in the flesh (so to speak). He listens carefully, expecting a long, dreary speech, but is pleasantly surprised to discover that she is good at getting to the point.
He watches the crowd carefully, to try and see who is genuine and who is not.
He is distracted from doing so by seeing one of the servants head towards the beehives. It may be nothing, but on the other hand...
He carefully heads towards the servant, to intercept the man.
As the Princess begins, Tanglefoot remains close to the High Strategos, to see how Pythareus reacts to the speech.
He notices the servant moving away from the crowd.
What could he be doing?, the fool thinks to himself.
Noticing Damrak heading over to intercept him, Tanglefoot stays where he is for now, but tries to keep an eye on both Pythareus and the servant.
Skirting the edge of the garden, Photinè moves to intercept the servant. She places herself between him and the beehives, standing casually with a hand on her hip, and raises an eyebrow at him.
"Young man, your Princess is speaking," she says in a low voice. "This is hardly the time to attend to the apiary."
She holds out a perfectly manicured hand, looking pointedly at the object the servant is carrying. "I'm certain you agree, this can wait."
"But we gather here to discuss matters of state, as well," she continues, her voice rising to punctuate the importance of what she has to say. "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 revelant in 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!"
...
Despite her inebriation, Countess Pace maintains a very convincing veneer of deference towards the princess. Her respect and support for Eutropia is not genuine, although there is no malice behind it. Most likely, Pace simply seeks to ally with anyone who can provide her with advantage.
Lastly, you recognize the man in the wheelchair as Duke Leonard Centimus. He leans back in his seat, legitimately impressed by Eutropia’s words.
...
...
You observe that more than a few members of the audience take notice as Damrak and Photinè break away towards the servant. A few shaking heads and disapproving looks suggest there are some who see this as disrespectful behavior.
The servant looks worried, almost on the verge of fright, as Damrak approaches, but Photinè is able to calm him. She finds that he holds a thick wafer in his hand. It exudes a heady, irritating aroma.
...
"Oh...my," the servant stammers quietly when accosted. He strives to keep his voice well below that of the princess. "One of the guards from the Taldan Phalanx asked me to place this here. He said it would keep the bees docile...to prevent any accidental stings. I did think it was a bit odd, to be honest."
...
The servant gently passes the wafer to Photinè.
"I wouldn't want to see anybody stung, especially not the princess."
Not being too familiar with what servants are up to during speeches, Chana spots the servant, but doesn't see anything too much amiss. Instead, she focuses on the Princess' speech, and watching Countess Pace's reactions to judge her stance on primogeniture (particularly if she has any kind of visual reaction when the practice possibly holding Taldor back). If she has a chance to, she also watches the unusual man in a wheelchair for the same sort of reactions.
Perhaps because she's so concentrated on reading the crowd, when the Princess starts glorifying Taldor, Chana lets out a sarcastic -snrk- before murmuring "Migh'y inheritahs, yea a'ight." She's quiet enough that its easy to believe she said something else entirely.
Khalil accompanied the guests towards where the Princess was starting up her speech. It was something that he had been looking forward to for quite some time. Since he had gotten the invitation in fact, he had been eager to see the Princess speak out in person. She was essentially the figurehead of the movement that he desperately wished to see succeed. From what he had heard she was the best hope women had of being recognized as competent and capable of rule. He watches as Kalbio is celebrated, glad that he got to talk to the man although sorry that they were pulled apart before he got to really talk to him at all. Still, he had a job to do here at the galla and Kalbio hadn’t been a part of his assignment. It was sometimes necessary to do the less pleasant necessities when working with the nobility, that much was abundantly clear to Khalil. As he watched he also let his gaze slip out over the crowd to try and gauge a bit of the mood in the room. It would be beneficial if they could figure out who their biggest proponents and opponents to the coming bill were to be.
Khalil sees the servant approaching the bee hives with something in hand and was about to go question the young man when a woman he couldn't recognize stepped forward and appeared to relieve him of the object. He didn't know quite what to make of it but seeing the little incident put him on edge and he began casting his eyes over the crowd once more to try and ensure that nothing else was going awry while the Princess spoke. He makes sure that he is as close to the Princess as he can reasonably be without attracting unwanted attention.
Despite her inebriation, Countess Pace maintains a very convincing veneer of deference towards the princess. Her respect and support for Eutropia is not genuine, although there is no malice behind it. Most likely, Pace simply seeks to ally with anyone who can provide her with advantage.
Lastly, you recognize the man in the wheelchair as Duke Leonard Centimus. Hailing from Tandak prefecture, he is an attending duke of Duchess Cisera Tiberan, and he lost the use of his legs in a riding accident.
He leans back in his seat, legitimately impressed by Eutropia’s words.
The princess' speech concludes, eliciting a round of demurred applause and quiet cheers from the audience, including Countess Pace, Lady Gloriana, and even Baron Okerra. Kalbio's applause is far louder, more enthusiastic than the rest of the crowd, and he draws a few sidelong glances from nobles, wary of having this man join their ranks.
High Strategos Pythareus remains stone-faced; he offers a cursory clap out of respect but quickly stops and turns to leave the gardens.
The princess herself is suddenly inundated with supporters - and a few friendly critics - but much of the crowd in the gardens and the overlooking galleries disperses, returning to their mingling.
Chana claps along politely, more because she's heard that it matters a lot to nobles that everyone claps, than because the Princess' speech impressed her. It had been a lot of talk, a lot of aggrandizement of the country. But it remained to be seen how much action would come out of it. And what the Princess actually did was what would matter.
'Still, at least she got a couple things right, huh Snips?'
She touches a hand to her shoulder where Snips is hiding out underneath her dress, then turns to Olivia. She tugs at the paladin's sleeve and whispers "Back to work then? Did you talk to any senator that might be against the princess in the primogeniture vote? I'm having trouble finding one. They keep their real feelings close. Really close."
If she has a chance to catch any of her other party members, she asks the same question before everyone splits off to continue their own tasks.
Khalil notes that Baron Okerra seemed to be clapping after the Princess’ speech. It was of course entirely possible that he was simply being polite, but Khalil chose to take it as a good sign. He resolved to try one last time to talk the Baron now that he had heard the Princess’ speech for himself, but first he wanted to go speak to Kalbio. Seeing the man’s enthusiasm after the Princess’ speech warmed his heart. He was the kind of person who truly deserved the position he was being raised to. An apparently hard working man who was willing to look forward towards a better future, rather than be content with the current state of things. So he approached Kalbio and nodded towards the Princess.
“Quite the speech wouldn’t you say? She’s a remarkable woman, Princess Eutropia. I must say it brings me great joy to see that she has the support of the nobility’s soon to be newest member,” Khalil comments, smiling as he continued, “Im glad to have not missed the speech but I never did get to speak with you earlier. Since you’re being honored here tonight I was wondering if any of your pieces happened to be decorating the halls of the Senate tonight. My mother is a lover of hand-woven Keleshite carpets, I know very little of it but I’d love to hear how it differs from your work.”
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Olivia was absolutely enthralled by the Princess' speech. So much so that she was completely oblivious to the antics of one of the servants, and her new coworker Khalil. Oh how she admired Princess Eutropia and wished that she, the lowly daughter of a Count, could meet her...
"Oh" answers Olivia as Chana breaks her out of her daydream. "No, no I didn't. I tried helping Amandine, but it wasn't going anywhere. I'm not sure what to do next."
Kalbio immediately perks up, his eyes brightening, as Khalil returns to speak with him. It is clear that the weaver is both surprised and overjoyed that he wasn't forgotten in favor of some noble.
"Oh, yes, it was a wonderful speech," he gushes enthusiastically. "It's so good to hear someone interested in Taldor's people rather than its glory.
"Well, no..." he continues, "None of my tapestries hang in the senate yet...but hopefully that will change soon!"
While this is a very exciting day for him, Kalbio feels very overwhelmed and a bit lonely. Even this simple showing of kindness and genuine interest in his talents has endeared him to you. He is very relieved to find support in the form of his new "big city friend."
Damrak gives the stranger a nod, and a quick bow. "That was good work, lady...?"
In reply to Chana's question, he considers. "I think Countess Pace is in this for herself. Make it clear to her that the future is with the Princess and she will vote for her. Otherwise, not."
She curtsies in return. ”Photinè Michèle-Aurelius; my pleasure.”
Photiné applauds heartily when the speech concludes; tonight has the potential to create real change in Taldor, although she tells herself it is foolish to hope for it.
As the crowd begins to disperse, she remains in the courtyard, finding her way towards the center of the group still gathered around Eutropia, offering friendly nods and smiles to the other guests along the way. She does not approach the princess directly, and instead places herself near Lady Gloriana, trying to recall what she knows about her.
Chana slumps a little at the news from the other two. "So, I suppose that means I should return to uh- canvassing? That's the right word, right? Canvassing..." She thanks both Olivia and Damrak and separates from the two of them to shake down some leads!
First, she pauses to think on what Chammy taught her about the Taldor Senate. She tries to remember if she's heard of any senators who might be at this party (other than Okerra and Pace, as neither of them seem like promising targets).
While she strains her brain trying to recall the list of names that Chammy drilled into her just last week, she wanders off into the Senate floor area in hopes of a face maybe jogging her memory. She wanders through the crowd and listens in to the conversation, every so often stopping to interject an insightful comment, just like her uncle and aunt trained her. She particularly focuses on trying to suss out relationships in the groups she passes, and then drops a joke or quip or two (good-natured ones) for the entertainment of each group before moving on.
'Some of these nobs 'ave gotta slip up right? Spill their thoughts 'fore the vote. Show me who in the heck I'm 'sposed to be workin on...'
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Lady Gloriana Morilla is one of Princess Eutropia's staunchest allies, and rumors suggest she is a key member of some sort of secret society. She is also known for believing that members of Avistan's aristocracy, not just in Taldor, must be held to their end of what philosophers have taken to calling the "social contract," a notion that has gained much popularity in Andoran and Galt and has made inroads in Taldor.
She currently mingles with the coterie that the princess trusts to keep close, including an Ulfen man with long, golden hair that you recognize as Landgrave Ogvai Jarlborn and a rainbow-haired gnome woman who, though you do not recall her name, you are sure represents the gnomes of Verduran Forest in the Senate.
A friendly, sincere offer of support should suffice to endear yourself to Lady Gloriana.
There are two nobles you have seen in attendance who you remember from Chammy’s lessons in preparation for this night. The first is Lady Zariyah Clement. As the descendant of Mwangi immigrants to Taldor who won entrance to nobility after decades of struggle, Clement is in a precarious position. She strives to balance managing her small estate with her duties as a senator. Rumors suggest she would side with Princess Eutropia in ending primogeniture, but Lady Clement has yet to make such a public endorsement - likely for fear of being ostracized and losing what her ancestors struggled to earn for their family. She is also known to have a reputation for abhorring judgments based on appearance, likely owing to presumptions people make about her based on the dark skin that bespeaks her Mwangi ancestry. You can’t help but find a glimmer of hope in such an attitude.
The second noble is Lord Remilliard Kastner. Chammy made it abundantly clear that you should avoid this man. Kastner is a paladin of Ragathiel, and he is known for his hatred of diabolism and Cheliax. Even though he is an avowed ally of Princess Eutropia, and by extension her bid to abolish primogeniture, you and Chammy equally fear what might happen if such a zealous warrior learned too much about you.
...
NPCs Present: High Strategos Maxillar Pythareus
Influence Skills: Appraise, Knowledge (History or Nobility), Perception, Spellcraft, or Use Magic Device
Applicable Missions: Theft, Spy
NPCs Present: Lady Gloriana Morilla, Princess Eutropia
Influence Skills: Handle Animal, Knowledge (Engineering, Local, or Nature), Perform (Keyboard, Percussion, Sing, String, or Wind)
Applicable Missions: n/a
NPCs Present: Countess Abrielle Pace, Wyssilka the Fantabulous
Influence Skills: Acrobatics, Disguise, Perform (Act, Comedy, or Dance), or Sleight of Hand
Applicable Missions: Discovery
NPCs Present: Duke Leonard Centimus
Influence Skills: Knowledge (Arcana, Geography, or History), Linguistics, Profession (Librarian), or Stealth.
Applicable Missions: Discovery
NPCs Present: Baron Nicolaus Okerra
Influence Skills: Bluff, Knowledge (Local, Nobility, or Religion), Perform (Oratory), Profession (Clerk or Barrister), or Sense Motive.
Applicable Missions: Politicking
NPCs Present: None
Influence Skills: Craft (Alchemy, Carpentry, Jewelry, Sculpture, or Stonemasonry), Heal, Intimidate, Profession (Baker, Butcher, Cook, Innkeeper, or Porter), or Sense Motive.
Applicable Missions: Sabotage
Damrak bows politely to Photine. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Damrak Lendar."
Damrak wanders into the Senate floor, out of curiosity as much as anything else. He has some plans for making a bid for the Senate himself, one day - assuming everything goes to plan, of course.
He spends some time in polite conversation, which is to say that he listens far more than he speaks.
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Damrak finds himself caught up in a mock debate between a group of senators. Rather than primogeniture, the topic is how to steer Taldor back on the path to glory: whether it be better to wage war on neighbors, such as rival Qadira or wayward colonies like Andoran and Galt, or to focus on improving infrastructure and social institutions at home. Damrak's calm insight on the matter earns him some nods of approval and a modicum of acceptance.
Meanwhile, Chana sits and listens on the periphery of another debate - this one focused on the focal point of the evening's senate session, the primogeniture vote. In particular, a young senator - one Earl Gahez Varima - dominates the discussion, becoming quite odious in his support for maintaining primogeniture.
"This entire feminine debacle is diverting attention from Taldor's real problem, its most pressing problem: the threat of war with Qadira," Varima insists.
After observing Varima's rhetoric, Chana speaks up to offer her own keen insight - leaving Earl Varima red-faced and the other senators amused. As the debate dissolves and the politicians drift their separate ways, a dry chuckle wafts down from the row behind Chana. An older man, a judge by his attire, leans forward with a smile on his lined face.
"In the duel of words, you just delivered that lad a killing blow, young lady," he says to Chana with soft laughter. "I understand that such young bucks are the lifeblood of Taldor, but I do so love watching them receive the important lesson of a good dressing down."
An idea seems to strike the judge with a start, and he begins to remove a gold signet ring from his finger.
"My name is Dartist Mercenian. I'd like to give you this, it's my family's crest. If the vote to abolish primogeniture goes through - and I suspect it will - women such as yourself, keen of mind and of word, will be a big part of Taldor's future, too."
He passes the ring to you, emblazoned with an emblem of a falcon clutching a shock of grain.
"Know that you have earned my family's favor."
.....
Chana's quips had not been intended to insult, at least not until she heard from this Varmia fellow. Something about his stuck up demeanor had ground against her, and she'd turned the light-hearted comment she was planning into a barb that left him fleeing.
When Dartist Mercenian hails her, she turns to face him straight-backed but incredibly uneasy. This was certainly nothing that Chammy had trained her for. She was supposed to keep a low profile. Make sure no one gets so interested in her that they insist on inspecting her veil. When Mercenian praises her, she drops an awkward, off-balance curtsy in an attempt to stall for time. Thinking quickly, she says "Ah, yes. I think he'll get over it soon enough. Thank you for the compliment, and for your favor." She accepts the ring with both her gloved hands. "Uh- It- means a lot to me to hear your support. If the vote goes through in the Princess' favor, Taldor will need people like you too. Open minded people, that is."
'That's right? I didn't step on his honor or whatever the heck Chammy said? Dang it, why does this have to be so complicated!'
She bobs another 3/10 curtsy and steps away, clutching the ring in her hand.
Tanglefoot decides to leave the High Strategos to his own devices for a moment and sate his curiosity. At the beginning of the gala he had seen a troupe of halfling acrobats entertaining some children, and they had gone up to the gallery. He decides he simply must make their acquaintance, and try his own hand at making the children laugh. He himself was a fair acrobat, and he liked to combine it with his skill for comedy in a slapstick act that involved making himself appear to become injured in a variety of ways, a routine that children, drunks, and even dogs always seemed to find hilarious.
He makes his way up the staircase to the observation deck, glancing at Countess Pace and her companion before moving over to the where the children and halflings were gathered, and begins to entertain.
"Ladies and gentlehalflings, boys and girls, members of the press, I greet you. I am Tanglefoot, and I have an important announcement to make. Fun has been cancelled for today, and no one is allowed to laugh anymore up here," he says as he walks towards them, but as he does, he pretends to slip on the floor, falling backward onto his derriere with a loud "OOF!"
He makes standing up a trial, as he pretends to slip and tumble around another half dozen times, once doing a flip before landing on his belly and bouncing slightly, before he finally is back on his feet, rubbing his butt and grimacing as if in great pain.
Tanglefoot's antics profoundly entertain the many children deposited upon the gallery as their parents mingle and schmooze. Each of his pratfalls elicits a raucous round of laughter from the children. In fact, most of the adults present also clap and smile at the well-practiced fool.
Off to the side, Tanglefoot also spots none other than Martella Lotheed seated at a table overlooking the courtyard below. She sports a wide grin and joyfully clapped hands that disappear as soon as she realizes she has been noticed.
The other entertainers are also doubly impressed by their colleague's comedic skills.
Before Tanglefoot can even think to approach Miss Lotheed, one of the red-and-black harlequinned performers tumbles over and, as she lands, claps a hand upon his back.
The halfling woman, looking like a raccoon with the makeup applied to her face, is abound with enthusiasm. She offers a smile that proudly displays immaculately white teeth.
"And here I thought I'd be the only fool tonight, yet I find myself in peerless company. I am Wyssilka the Fantabulous," she says with a clownish pirouette, "leader of the troupe so capably juggling tonight's entertainment. Care to cavort and caper with me?"
As he performs, Tanglefoot also keenly notes from his vantage point the patterns of movement among nobles and servants alike through the senate building. This could come in handy when seeing to the evening's "business."
"Impressive." Damrak gives Chana a nod, and a slight bow. "Your rhetoric was highly effective. Remind me not to get on your bad side!" In truth, he had greatly enjoyed the sight of the pompous Earl Varimar fleeing, vanquished by a commoner.
"What a wonderful name! And your makeup is fittingly fantabulous. I saw one of those creatures, a ratchet they call them I believe, once in a menagerie in Absalom, brought over from Arcadia. They look like little bandits with masks on, and they wash their food before eating," Tanglefoot laughs.
"But yes, I believe I have a little time for some cavorting and capering. Shall we put on a little duo performance to show this lot what true entertainers can do?"
He begins to explain ideas for a routine that involves Tanglefoot throwing the halfling into the air, and continually almost failing to catch her (acting like he forgot she was in the air...falling on his rear again and letting her bounce off his big belly, etc), as she performs her own series of hilarious gestures and tricks while in the air.
When Damrak approaches, she responds with "It weren't noth-" Before clearing her throat and instead saying "Ah, thank you Damrak. All thanks to my Aunt and Uncle. I like to think their wit rubbed off on me."
Lady Olivia impresses Count Vyband, Viscount Vercander, and Mortasan the cartographer, among others, with her knowledge of the storied nobles who once wielded this weapon or donned that armor from among the items on display.
"Aye, but alas, if only so many of these weren't simply replicas," Viscount Vercander rues. He points out a crossbow, inlaid with brass, sitting prominently in one display case. "Take this one for example: a reproduction of the relic known as Dignity's Barb. The original was carried by the Seventh Army of Exploration, and it gloriously slew a raving Kellid warlord. Although the real weapon was once displayed here, it was misplaced centuries ago."
Count Vyband begins to rumble with laughter.
"Listen to him talk like an erudite historian," Count Vyband chuckles. "Every word he just uttered was fed to him by the real scholar, Miss Vau over there."
The count points out a spectacled woman of middle age, discussing other relics and replicas with guests taking even a feigned interest in the arcade's exhibits. You recognize her as Copernia Vau, the senate's curator of antiquities.
Meanwhile, upon the gallery, Tanglefoot and Wyssilka have ignited a friendly contest of tumbling and nimbleness, accented by a smattering of buffoonery. By this point, it seems as though every child of noble birth in all of Taldor has gathered around to watch the pair's performance. Parents continue to drop off their children to be babysat by the spectacle, also dropping off a few donations as a sign of their gratitude.
What's more, a duke wearing a gold circlet upon his bald head quietly orders a servant from his retinue to place a bottle of fine brandy among the pile of donations, perhaps to make a statement of his patronage.
Lastly, a harried-looking earl stops by and offers a few passive-aggressive shakes of his head - seemingly directed equally at you, Wyssilka's troupe, and his own children - before dropping a brass wand upon the heap and hastening away.
Pleased with her success in the Senate Floor, but still no closer to understanding who might oppose primogeniture, Chana leans over to Damrak. "We did quite well for ourselves here. Made for a good team. I'm left wondering if maybe the nobles currently in the Archives might be more free with their thoughts on the topic of the night." She cracks the knuckles on her right hand, an unconscious and very unladylike gesture. "I'm considering going there next if you wish to join me."
-----
After a brief walk down the hall, Chana arrives at the aforementioned archives and starts by taking a short walk around to see if she can spot any groups talking about primogeniture. She also keeps her eyes peeled for any senators who may be spending time here.
Whether she finds any or not, she starts listening in to conversations and adding her own input. Less witty this time, clearly wittiness drew too much attention to herself. Instead, she sticks to anticipating what people will say next and offering it as her own suggestion as a way of drawing herself into groups.