@Stormflyx and
@Gcold
The banquet was in full flow by the time the Breton had made her way back to the main ballroom, the lights were dimmed and crystalline chandeliers provided an almost romantic illumination to the room, everything was grand and plush - opulence. As was to be expected, the guests were at varying levels of inebriation. It was for this exact reason that Relyssa rolled her eyes. They could be noble in the streets and in their halls and courts, but shove them all into a room with alcohol and they had little more grace than peasants in a grimy tavern. Still, the rich had to have their fun after all, lavish and over the top fun at that…
Having successfully accomplished her goals, and now needing to pass the time until it’s conclusion, Relyssa felt free enough to enjoy herself. She wouldn’t be enjoying herself quite so much as
some people that she observed on her strut through the ballroom. She thought about Alim, and about what he had in his pockets, her nostrils flared slightly with the quick twist of anger that crept in, slowly she shook it off - everything would be fine, he would not steal away with it… And if he did, she’d hunt him down and take it back with force.
Just get it out of your mind, Relyssa… she chided herself internally as she moved to a waiter carrying drinks - wine would help settle this, and if not wine then something else…
Ahh yes, there was always Gustav, he had suggested a dance and suddenly she very much wanted to take the mysterious Nord up on his offer.
All at once her face took on something of a feline expression. Her steel blue eyes were narrowed in an alluring way and with an almost predatory gaze she scanned the room for him. Her scarlet smile was small, with the few disheveled strands of hair framing her sharp features, she had the look of a trickster in its element. She very much sought to push Gustav’s buttons again. She held her glass of wine with two hands, tapping her fingernails against the stem as if in a manner not entirely unlike the way a lioness might go about sharpening her claws…
There you are, she said to herself as she caught a glance of him belching up the stubborn gas of a carbonated beverage.
Unlike Relyssa, Gustav wasn’t having nearly as much “fun” and “adventure”. His routine had been talking to the few people that he knew, and assuring them that he was here for no reason other than celebrating. Yes, Wayrest’s free at last, and yes, Gustav himself had nothing to do with the mercenary business, or that’s what he tried to feed his acquaintances with. The literal feeding, on the other hand, was a buffet. Hundreds of people crammed into the biggest room in the castle, numerous tables in between, topped with everything from stuffed Craglorn pheasant to smoke fish caught freshly on the Bjoulsae. Gustav always wanted to try Balfieran caviar, but that particular table was occupied by a large Orc, supposedly the champion of some knightly order. Strangely, Gustav saw none of the notable guests there. He milled about the crowded, noisy and even sweaty dining room for a whole hour to no avail; no of the monarchs and other big names were there. Where could they possibly go?
So, Gustav took to the ballroom when it opened, hoping to catch a glance of royalty (and possibly vampires) there. It was more preferable to him than the live performances in the garden. Gustav’s not interested in the “wrestling” match scheduled by the local fight pit. Some of these sheltered highborns, particular the old money, was excited to see “real” battle with their own eyes. Gustav saw more than enough at Smuggler’s Cove; fighting was a mess, and though it might be blood-pumping, it was not very enjoyable. Plus, it’s Last Seed, the mosquitos were vicious.
It only occured to Gustav when he looked around the ballroom, that he didn’t have a dance partner, and he hasn’t danced since the Jehanna New Life celebration back in 203. Watching the more experienced dancers was a little intimidating, especially when many were performing this year’s latest fashionable (and complex) move; the
sick spin. He found himself stalking the edge of the ballroom, picking up a sparkling wine from one of the servants and downing it in one fell swoop. Then Gustav looked around again and saw none other than Relyssa Deserine, and it was at this moment the sparkling wine decided to send its gaseous compatriot up Gustav’s system for a speedy reunion. Relyssa probably saw that, and Gustav turned his head away embarrassingly.
She was still there when Gustav looked around for the third time. Oh well, Gustav did ask her for a dance before, didn’t he? He crossed the room to greet her, but before his words came out, his belch decided to say hi first.
“Excuse me, Lady Des-” Another belch interrupted him. “By the nine-” Gustav saw what must be a Dominion emissary nearby, “I mean, eight!”
“Ahem.” Gustav cleared his throat, and bowed slightly in courtesy and apology. “How is your night so far, my lady?”
It was decidedly difficult to keep up. Was that the second or third instance of the Nord bringing up wind? When she wondered whether or not Gustav might blow her away on the dancefloor earlier, this was absolutely not what she had meant. Still, she managed to dig deep enough to find a polite smile, even if there was a glaze of
”what in Oblivion?” over her eyes. “Gustaaaaaaaav…” she began, drawing out his name to a close to awkward length, she leaned back from him ever so - what she had heard was enough, she did not wish to smell it as well…
“Enjoying the beverages are we?” she continued, her tone significantly softer now, her usual puckish expression resumed. “As for my night, well it has been very satisfactory so far.” She hoped the man wasn’t already too sodden to understand the implication of her words. If she had been feeling any more bold, she might have given him a wink too - instead, just a smile with teeth. “You don’t seem to be joining in the revelry, Gustav.” It was not a question, but there was no doubt about it - Relyssa was curious as to why the Nord was not mingling with the crowds of guests.
“You know me, I’m always on the hunt for the next best drink.” Gustav replied. He was expecting Relyssa to extend her hand out for him to kiss, or at the very least, shake. But then again, he had just been picking his way through the buffet, some dried gravy might be still sticking to his hands.
“Well, I’ve done my share of mingling; I just find it most enjoyable in small doses.” Shrugged Gustav. Was his breath so bad? No. In fact, the belches had a little peachy flavor to it, not that he would mention it to anyone else. Instead, he gave cocked his head and looked to Relyssa. She sure cleaned up good; the expensive dress and jewelries fit her well. “I should say the same about you, Relyssa. I haven’t seen you around the guests either, though...”
The band in the ballroom finished the current tune and started playing a new one. It was a fast and cherry summer jingle. Some people were switching dance partners, while some formed circles that were traditional to Bangkorai folk dances. Meanwhile, a bell was rang outside; the big wrestling match was starting.
“Let’s talk further while we dance, or perhaps see the wrestling match instead?” Gustav offered Relyssa his arm. “May I?”
She chuckled at that; “why I’ve been busy putting Alim to work of course, I’m happy to say that you were right about him. He was worth the price…” She smiled as she took Gustav’s arm - pondering over the question. To dance would be good, but that fast music was decidedly not her preference… Wrestling was also not something she was too interested in but it may provide a better opportunity to probe Gustav. “You know, I don’t think my shoes are all that appropriate for spinning in such circles,” she began, lowering her voice until it was practically a velvety whisper in his ear now they were stood together. “I much prefer a slow dance, the closeness… The intimacy…”
“That lad is something, isn’t he?” Gustav matched Relyssa’s smile with one of his own. Brand loyalty always started with a good first impression, this Gustav knew all to well. Het let Relyssa lead him half a step ahead as she took his arm. Then Gustav twitched somewhat uncomfortably at her whisper. “If you say so.”
Relyssa raised her shoulders in a coquettish shrug, flapping her hand in a dismissive motion at the dancers, “I suppose I shall settle for watching some strongmen tussle with each other instead.” The Breton took a sip from her glass, eyes scanning over the crowds once more - she had hoped to see Alim on the outskirts, but no such luck. He better not have scarpered with her prize…
“If I do recall correctly, you were here on a job too, yes? I hope it’s going well…” she commented quietly as they made their way at a leisurely pace to the gardens.
“Work never stops with your own business, I’m sure you know.” Gustav shrugged. He was about to beckon for a refill on his own glass, but the residual belching urges told him otherwise. “Strong men tussling each other is not far from the duties of my employees, so this would be observation in a way. Plus,” Gustav handed his glass to a servant, trying to change the topics in order to not divulge the company’s assignment, “the mosquitos aren’t as bad as I expected. Must be enchantments around the garden, don’t you think?”
“Enchantments? Yes I expect so,” she replied, her gaze focussed on that in front of her in such a way she was just about half listening to the Nord.
Arriving in a large clearing, where a wrestling ring and metal cage around it had been set up, Gustav and Relyssa found a decent sized crowd had already gathered. Announcers from the Evermore War Knights, a mustached Orc and a round little Breton dressed in bright court robes, were just starting to address the spectators through their enchanted megaphones.
“Ever seen one of these?” Gustav asked, and suggested they move to the edge of the crowd, where the view was obstructed and the announcers wouldn’t blast their ears with megaphones. “Wrestling, pit fights and the like are popular in the north. The Ravagers are the stars of Solitude; their matches even allow weapons.”
That made her smile. “Do I look like a woman who would willingly go and watch a wrestling match?” Relyssa held for a moment with something of a devious expression that she met Gustav with. “Because I haven’t… But truthfully I find it rather fascinating, I’m curious to see some strong men, you seem to know a lot about it… It’s as you say, business…” As she drank down the last of the contents of her glass, she placed it down on a servants platter - offering a polite smile and nod. “I find it almost as fascinating as you and your business, admittedly. I’m quite curious to learn more about you Gustav, and how you came upon such a company.”
“You never know what someone does for hobby until you speak to them. Some people enjoy wrestling for the drama; they say the matches are staged.” Gustav said. Eyes darting around to make sure nobody was paying attention them, Gustav whispered. “Do you know that the princess of Jehanna has an extensive collection of Reachman scalps. Maybe it’s better we don’t know.”
“What’s there to say about me? I am an investor, and there’s profit to be made in war.” Gustav returned Relyssa’s nod with his own, and chuckled to make it seem trivial. It became apparent that Relyssa was trying to pry information out of him in some way, and also apparent that he didn’t do the best job at deflecting it. “We do follow an ethical guideline; after all, don’t we all work to make a positive difference, in our own ways?”
It was at the moment that she gave Gustav another of her smiles, that a servant paraded past carrying another tray of wine - from which Relyssa took one - and motioned for said servant to hand a glass to the Nord. “We should toast to our evening, don’t you think?” Relyssa asked in a crisp tone, holding out her own glass expectantly with a raised eyebrow.
Gustav took the glass. This wine doesn’t appear carbonated, and his belch had gone down, hopefully. “Yes; cheers to victory at Wayrest, to good business and an exquisite evening!” He clinked his glass on Relyssa’s, then taking a good swig from it. Regret would immediately manifest in a sudden belch, but thankfully, the announcers introducing the wrestlers drowned out most of it.
“Ladies and gentlemen, our first contestant, from the frozen wastelands of Solstheim, I present: Gjorn Storm-Fist!” The first announcer began blasting from his megaphone. On his cue, a heavyset Nord, two meters tall and thick as an ox, entered the caged ring. He wore knee-length shorts, fur bracers and a sleeveless shirt, showing burgeoning calves and biceps each twice of Gustav’s. Bushy red beard lined his face, and a mish-mash of scars on his bare arms.
That caused a smile to appear on her face. If there was one thing that Relyssa did appreciate, it was a man of good musculature - a man who looked hardened from battle. The beard was a shame, of course, but everything else… Her head tilted as the eyes of the Breton looked Gjorn up and down. “He almost reminds me of someone I know…” she commented quietly with a smirk.
“This wild berserker draws power from the very essence of wild bears! Witness the savagery of the Skaal unleashed!” The second announcer told the crowd. Some cheered, but Gjorn wasn’t really reacting accordingly. In fact, the Skaal wrestler was fidgeting and looking nervously between the crowd and castle spires.
“His challenger, from the ranks of the Imperial Legions, tempered by forge and war, Ograh gro-Vorinclex!” Emerging after the introduction was an Orc, equally large and heavy as the Skaal, except he was green and has large tusks. Ograh was shirtless, only wearing leather boots, baggy trousers and fingerless gloves. However, he had few scars and slick black hair.
“This mighty legionary once single-handedly defeated a daedric titan! His appetite is insatiable, for steel and battle!” The second announcer boasted. Ograh did rally the excited crowd. However, when he entered the ring, locked inside the cage with his opponent, his energy instantly went down a notch. It was almost like he was scared.
“Hmm, this will be interesting.” Gustav finished his wine, while stifling his belches. He studied the wrestlers, smirking as he realized they were probably both rookies. Probably, not that Gustav was ever in their shoes. “How a about a bet, Relyssa; who do you think will prevail?”
She was still occupied with examining the physique of the Nord that she almost missed Gustav’s words of a bet. She thought about it with another smirk, taking a sip of her wine as she glanced at both of the fighters equally this time. “Interesting indeed… I happen to know a tremendous Nord fighter… Don’t know many Orsimer warriors, but they’re naturally strong - I know that much…” She brought her thumb to her lip as she thought very carefully about who she would place her bet on.
“My honest opinion is that they both look quite inspiring and powerful. The Nord has more scars - which could indicate he’s taking many,
many beatings. The Orc has less, but it seems that his mettle was left outside of the ring. It’s anyone’s game, this will be luck. Unless of course the match has been fixed in the Nord’s favour…”
Her mind then drifted to the narrative of the battle. An Orsimer and a Nord - would the high society Lords and Ladies accept an Orc to best a Nord? The men wanted a hero that they could see themselves as, the women wanted a hero they could imagine sweeping them off their feet...
“Ograh.” She said finally, her lips pulling into an undeniably smug half smile.
“I’ll take Gjorn;” Gustav nodded, “let’s see how this goes.”
Surely enough, Ograh would sweep people off their feet, notably Gjorn. Their fight started out evenly matched, both fighters nervous and reluctant to give their all. But things changed when Ograh hit Gjorn a little bit lower beneath his belt. The announcers had been worried that the Skaal was held back by some kind of sickness, until his rage finally came through. Punches, kicks and charges were unleashed at Ograh, and soon the Orc found himself being thrown repeatedly at the metal cage, unable to escape. However, when he fell to his knees for the fourth time, he tugged loose Gjorn’s bootlaces, causing the Skaal to trip. Ograh took this chance to rip free a weakened piece of metal from cage. It was sharp, and as Gjorn charged back in rage, Ograh stuck it right into his stomach. Blood spurted across the ring.
Relyssa gasped at the sight, her mouth remained open until she brought a hand up in shock, to cover it.
Gjorn cried in pain; the crowd gasped in surprise. None of that stopped Gjorn from swinging his fists at Ograh. At this point, he was disoriented from pain, blind aggression and his loosened boot; none of his punches connected. Ograh though, maintained his caution and distance. The Orc walked circles around Gjorn, trying to find an opening for the finishing blow. Eventually, he settled on taking off his belt and strangling Gjorn with it from behind.
“By the eight,” one announcer shouted, “looks like Ograh is getting quite creative; what does the audience think?”
There was a mix off applause and booing. Gjorn’s face was turning purple, and his struggle weak from blood loss; he plead for intervention.
“Looks like we’re an everything-goes match tonight.” The second announcer concluded. “Unless our contestant wishes to tap out?”
Gjorn shook his head furiously, trying to shake Ograh free, with no success. Ograh pressed his knee into Gjorn’s back, restraining him like rodeoing a thrashing bull. Several minutes later, Gjorn ceased resisting; he passed out.
“Looks like Ograh is super effective!” Announcer one laughed.
“Gjorn has fainted!” Announcer two added.
Gustav clapped along with the crowd, or at least, the half that backed Ograh and not yet walked away. He patted Relyssa’s shoulder jovially, and laughed. “You certainly have an eye for...talents, Relyssa. Are you sure you’ve never seen a wrestling match before?”
Having watched the scene play out, the Breton felt suitably pleased with herself for her prediction having been correct. She lowered her hand from her mouth and brought it beside the other to give a soft applause. “Please, Gustav,” she began sardonically, practically rolling her eyes as she turned her head to look at him. “I try to avoid such sports. Although I have trea--” She stopped herself quickly. The alcohol was to blame, and revealing anything about herself to Gustav would be a mistake, especially that she was anything more than a well-to-do heiress. She wanted her job to be as clean as possible, afterall. She turned that sudden pause into a sly smirk once more. “I mean to say that fascinating as it is, I have trepidations about such violent affairs. That poor Nord, he’s in quite a sorry state now, I hope he gets to feeling better…”
“Don’t worry, wrestling matches are rarely lethal.” Gustav reassured. Sure enough, a group of match organizers ran up to the stage with a stretcher to carry a passed out Gjorn away.
Quiet smugness aside, the night was getting along even further, and her patience was wearing down still. She would have to find something to occupy her mind - what was better than the Nord at her side. He seemed almost
too easy to play with. “Alright, the wrestling is done - I won our bet, tell me Gustav, what do you propose is my prize?” The blonde turned to face him fully and began to wind a loose curl around her finger while she awaited his response. She was still investigating just what kind of man he was.
It was indeed getting later in the night. The sun was almost entirely set, leaving the royal gardens lit by lanterns, candles and fireflies. However, the activities were anything but winding down. The stage before them was being taken down for musical performances. Gustav was finally relaxing. Maybe there wasn’t a vampire threat after all, just an enjoyable night with an unexpected companion.
“How about a discount on our transaction?” Gustav proposed. He ran his hand through his own blond hair. “You can let others know how pleasant it is to do business with us.”
While the stage was being reconfigured, servants milled about with plates of deserts and snacks. Sagax was not among them, and he hasn’t been for the last hour. Surely he was working elsewhere? One servant approached Gustav and Relyssa with a plate of sausage and cheese cube mix. Gustav took small bowl of the mix, while offering Relyssa another. The cheese was classic Shornhelm diary, but the sausage, it was very peculiar, though strangely appetizing.
“Excuse us,” Gustav asked the servant, once he and Relyssa had a few bites down, “what sort meat is this? Very zesty, by the way.”
“Oh, thank you, sir.” The servant replied. Nervous eyes darted about and avoided Gustav, the boy all but mumbled the rest. “I believe it’s a new recipe, uh, imported from Pyandonea. It’s...Khajiit flesh.”
The haughty Breton was visibly repulsed having learned the source of the meat, and she was thankful to have avoided it. So repulsed was she by it, that her smile was entirely smacked away, leaving only an unpleasant scowl that had drained even the sparkle of mischievous joy from her eyes. “Wonderful…” she remarked bitterly, pushing the plate away and back into the chest of the servant.
“Um, sorry? Sorry, m’lady...” The servant meagerly apologized; he scurried away with the plate.
She sighed and managed to regain a sliver of composure, sliver enough to catch a gentleman watching her from across the banquet hall. Once he had caught the eye of Relyssa, he swiftly turned away and retreated to his glass. She smirked and brought her attention back to Gustav and his proposal. “Ahh, you are very business minded,” she began - taking a sip of wine. She savoured the taste of it in her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “Very well. I’ll whisper into the ear of more than a few individuals…”
“Heh, wow, now I’ve tried Khajiit…” Gustav ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. He was so shocked at what the meat had been, that he didn’t even pay attention to what Relyssa was doing. When he recovered (and decided that Khajiit meat wasn’t half bad), Gustav caught sight of Edith running toward him. Something was going wrong; Edith was disguised as a servant and not suppose to be seen with Gustav outside of emergencies.
“Yes, business…” Gustav thought out loud. He set his drink aside and faced Relyssa with sudden seriousness. “Before we part ways, Relyssa, tell me, what do you know about vampires?”
Gustav debated on whether he should more. Relyssa couldn’t possibly hinder the situation in any significant way, and if anything, she might be of help. “There is suspicion that some vampires are present around this procession and looking to do harm. Just let me know if you see anything...out of the ordinary.” Gustav admitted.
“Vampires?!” she immediately scoffed, trying to hold back the urge to laugh in disbelief. “Of course there are vampires here…” Relyssa turned her face to some of the guests as if to imply they were all blood-sucking heathens in one way or another. She did then take note of the way that Gustav’s demeanor changed. “You’re actually serious?” she said, voice lower now. “If you’re actually serious I don’t wish to stick around - we should leave!” There was a strain in her voice that was sincere - she did suddenly feel completely vulnerable, and a hand ran across her neck almost out of instinct. “I know enough…”
"Oh, I am dead serious." Gustav nodded. "No pun intended."
"You want to know about what I do?" He finally relented. Gustav reached out to pull Relyssa closer, out of earshot of possible eavesdroppers. "My employees, Alim included, found evidence of a conspiracy after defeating a Sload. It's a long story, but there's a reason we haven't seen any monarchs around." Gustav gestured to the crowd; a bunch of important nobodies.
He was talking faster now. "The vampires want to kill them, and while I don't think any of them know it exactly, they've been rightfully cautious. I've been hired to keep an eye out, discreetly, so that-"
At this point, Edith had rushed to Gustav and Relyssa. Edith was no longer wearing her butler disguise, instead, she had donned her armor. Guests were staring at her, and a pair of guards was following her. However, Edith herself paid them no attention; she was panting, after running out from the dining hall.
"Gustav, there's a situation! We need to-" On cue with Edith's warning was the shattering of windows and screaming of panicked people from the dining hall. The two guards that tailed her turned toward the commotion, but before they could react, an Altmer (whom Gustav recognized as Nyrehtaud from earlier meet-and-greets), blasted them aside with a powerful spell and sprinted into the (off-limit) royal residence wing. Behind Nyrehtaud came two masked individual. Their masks then came off, revealing unnaturally pale skin, red irises and sharp fangs.
"By Zenithar!" Gustav gasped.
One vampire leaped into the waiter that had served Gustav and Relyssa moments ago, and tore a bloody breach into his neck. The other vampire fired a frenzy spell toward responding guards, causing them to attack innocent guests and each other.
"If you want to leave, go! Go to Used Sundries and Sevine will keep you safe there." Gustav told Relyssa. People were trampling over each other for the gate, but Gustav himself was focused on the two vampires. "I have a job to do here."
She thought it over quickly. She had to. The doors were blocked by people, there was a woman pushed to the ground and stood over. Her screams muffled by feet over her back - and drowned out by the rest of the screams. That could quite easily be her if she made it for the exit. The Breton heaved a sigh, bringing herself into a defensive stance behind both Edith and Gustav. “Oh darling, if I leave and you decide to die - I won’t get my discount now, will I?”
It irritated her to have to stay, but there was the all important matter of the diamonds in Alim’s bag. She need only make it to him and snatch back her prize,
then she could escape.
