[IC] ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

[Estylwen]

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Twelve Days Ago…

Hathforth Castle, Throne Room

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“I beg you to reconsider. Hathforth and the neighboring cities are at risk.”

Potentate Heavy-handed, his body weary and his mind burdened, stood there, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the throne. He had traversed a grueling day and a half’s journey from Odonfield, his expression a mix of determination and anxiety as he faced the one he had come all this way to see.

The Wizard Queen, her disinterest palpable, reclined on her throne, her gaze cool and distant as she looked down at Brinyar.

“As I said through our correspondence, my stance has not changed. The guards stationed around the Glasic Fileds will take care of any of these so-called ‘monsters.’ I want no interference from the Church in my procuring of seeds.”

Brinyar grimaced, a hard plea in his voice, hoping the Queen would see reason. “We only ask that you let us station knights there trained in white magic to dispel these monsters. If any were to escape, and the people were made aware, it could cause a panic.”

The Queen tilted her head, head lifting slightly from being rested on her palm. “You have no proof these are even Dremoras. For all we know, they could be wolves harassing the Gardeners. Not worth my time.”

“At least let us verify the seeds to ensure the safety of Arrowfell at large.”

“Aha. And there’s the truth, Potentate.” A grin upcurled one side of the Queen’s lips. “You don’t really care about ‘monsters,’ do you? You care about power.”

There was a pause before Brinyar responded, voice guarded. “Having another one of your crown jewels appear in the fields would be dangerous; you and I both know that.”

The Queen merely smiled. “Yet you want to involve yourself when you can see I have everything under control? Potentate Heavy-handed, I fear you’re not making any sense.”

He tried one last time. “Please listen to reason, Your Majesty. The people are going to find out.”

“If they find out, my guard will quell the problem. The people will remain safe.”

Brinyar shook his head. “I would implore you to consider our services, Your Majesty.”

She merely sat there, cold grin still on her face. “When I have need of your services, I shall ask, Potentate. Now… Was there anything else?”

His face was grim, a fire quietly burning behind his eyes. “No, Your Majesty. I’ll take my leave.”

The Wizard Queen waited a long moment before the far doors closed behind Potentate Heavy-handed, before she gestured with a finger to her advisor stationed beside her, beckoning him forward.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” Advisor Vulluin Urimyar stepped forward, leaning down slightly at the side of the Queen’s throne. His gaze was carefully guarded, eyes narrow as he stared patiently at the floor.

“Send out an invitation. Have all the dukes and duchesses of the cities come in a little over a week’s time. Invite the lesser nobility as well. We’ll host a gala.”

His expression was thoughtful as he nodded. “This would be like last time, Your Majesty?”

She nodded back. “Yes… Choosing the right tools for the job requires a personal touch. I’ll need them for my next big project, which-” She sighed. “-We will need to speed up, given the circumstances.”

“Very good, Your Majesty. Anything else?”

A pause, before the Queen spoke again. “Bring my daughter and my favourite two from the Orphan’s Matron before me. I need to have a word with each… privately.”

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+++ Throughout the passing week, letters were sent to the noble households scattered across the Arrowfell province. +++

The Letter Received

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Present Time, Fredas, Four Hours Past Midday, 14th Hearthfire, 1402

Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

@Psyker Landshark, @LunarParadox, @Irradiant, @Click This

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The air warmed by an autumn sun blew gently through the courtyard of the Hathforth castle, caressing the nobility as carriages carrying precious cargo unloaded at the expansive front doors.

This was a well-practiced ritual that most courtiers and nobles had gotten somewhat used to during the Wizard Queen’s reign. The galas were the place to hear the latest gossip, bask in the adulation of companions, and revel in the veiled jealousy of nobles less favoured by the Queen.

Delicate slippers and curved point boots pressed their way along the narrow strip of carpet that adorned along the center of the throne room. Banners hung along the sides of the fire-lit hall, crimson like the leaves waving in the wind beyond the windows. Two banquet tables had been set up on either side, offering all types of light foods, like roast, cheeses, and fresh catches. Servants flitted in between nobles with trays of sparkling Gold-touch Wine, suffusing the hall with the warm aromas of spices. A few tables and chairs had been laid out near the banquet tables for those who wanted a break from standing.

Off on one side was a small group of courtiers playing a mix of the lute, drum, and gittern, the upbeat melody wafting over the heads of the nobles.

At the head of the hall, sitting on her throne, was the Wizard Queen. She was dressed up for the occasion, endowed in an elven-make dress with fine embroidery that mimicked the shapes found in nature, and pearls dripping from her ears and neck. Her crown, of course, was a perfect match to almost all her outfits, including this one. Her white hair hung in several small braids, while the rest was freely flowing, curled loosely at her elbows.

She could hear the rumours waft up from the crowds of nobles gathered.

“I can’t believe you; you haven’t tried those cigars of the Duke of Rhinecliff? My dear, they are exquisite. It’s a shame how he and the Queen are having a disagreement. Do you imagine he’ll show up tonight? …Yes, yes, I doubt it too.”

“I say, Her Grace Duchess Bastille is something, isn’t she? Towers over men, and leads her own army. You know what I heard? You’re not going to believe it, but she’s gotten close with the Duke of Rhinecliff. Yes, the Duke! How close of friends do you suppose they are?”

”Oh my, Lord Blackthorne is quite the looker, isn’t he? You know, they say just one of his looks can freeze the heart of any maiden! Do you suppose he’ll be performing tonight? Perhaps he’ll cast the hall in light snow like last time, yes? Oh yes, that would be quite lovely.”

”Ah, I’m so jealous of Lady Haliel. The Queen is always giving her attention. Why doesn’t the Queen Her Majesty look at me like that? Not only that, but both those purple eyes of hers, oh! Who do you suppose she’ll be suited with? She must have the men of the court just falling for her!”

“Oh do tell, who was Duchess Agustria seen with last week? …Oh, oh my, you don’t say! Well, everyone wants to be close with a merchant Duchess, I don’t blame him. Imagine, free passage between the Grand Bank and Hathforth!”

A servant bowed as they approached, “Some Gold-touch Wine, Your Majesty?”

The Wizard Queen took the goblet off its tray and inspected the liquid before offering it to Vullian to taste. He did so, before passing it back solemnly. She watched him for a moment, before pressing the goblet to her lips, letting the sweetness and spice overtake her tongue. She gestured with a hand dismissively, and the servant bowed as they retreated.

Goblet in hand, the Wizard Queen settled back in her throne, eyes carefully watching the crowd. The floor was open for any noble to approach her. The goal of tonight was to enjoy the gala under the guise of simplicity, when she would really be selecting who would come with her when she elevated Hathforth and the province to a new level of power.

She already had a few names in mind, but some would have to be won over before they could be part of her grand design.

All was worth it, in the end.

And so, the Wizard Queen waited and listened, a patient smile on her lips.

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Hathforth, The College of Hathforth, Headmaster’s Office

@Izurich

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It was nearly the end of another day at the bustling College of Hathforth. Yet, behind the visage of discoveries and wide-eyed students, there was a heavy cloud that hung over the eyes of the head faculty and staff.

The Wizard Queen had once again demanded something of them. A demand that, they knew, whoever were to fall into it, whoever would be summoned by it, they would never be the same ever again. For better or worse, to be summoned, to be under her gaze, meant one thing, and one thing only.

Everything was about to change, and become more dangerous. More real.

No longer would the student in mind be learning about the world of magic in a theoretical sense. They would be at the forefront of new ideas, some questionable, given the Wizard Queen’s lust for power.

These thoughts passed through the mind of none other than Caveus Ashan, the headmaster of the college. He tried to give his mind some ease by reading through the scrolls on his desk, or penning a new correspondence with his griffin feather quill. But alas, nothing could grant him peace. The work had to be done, the summon had to be made. He had to tell his students the news that would transform their whole affair at the College.

He called for his assistant, a plain girl in mage’s robes with spectacles resting on her nose.

“Please bring me Mèlisande. It’s… well. Tell her it’s urgent. She can be excused from the remainder of her class.” He said, his voice gravely.

The assistant nodded and left. Passing down many corridors of the expansive college, she eventually came to stop at a door, knocked twice, and opened it. Peering inside, she would see a teacher watching over students standing at wide desks, practicing a type of levitation magic on metallic orbs. Most seemed to be struggling with this. All, of course, except the special student in question. She spied Mèlisande in the front row, and called out in a soft voice.

“Mèlisande, the Headmaster is looking for you in his office. He says it’s urgent.”

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Secretive Mine Owned By the Hands of Iron

@twannyman

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If Princess Keove had learned anything about her mother, it was that she was always right. Despite the confusion in their discussion roughly a week prior, the princess knew she was doing something important.

Her insides glowed. Her mother trusted her with bigger and bigger tasks, and she couldn’t be more pleased. Sure, Mother had insisted the princess bring extra guards for her protection, but it wasn’t like she was traveling halfway across Arrowfell for this task. No, she was only a day away from Hathforth. It was like she was still in her own backyard.

Well, technically the whole of Arrowfell was her backyard, so she never really was far from home, was she?

Two carriages rode along the worn dirt road, traveling deeper into the centuries-old forest where their destination lay in wait. The princess had a carriage all to herself while the other guardsmen rode in the carriage before her. The time waiting in the carriage was a challenge; the princess only occupied herself by peeking back the curtain and staring out the small carriage window at the trees and the scenery passing by.

Eventually, the carriages stopped, and the princess grinned ear to ear. They had finally made it. She waited for a guard to open her door and practically sprang out of her seat.

There it was, in all its secretive glory. An old iron mine within the cliffs, surrounded by trees. Her enthusiasm was momentary before darkness shaded her face, remembering why she was here. The duty to her mother she had to fulfill. The hope in her chest that the band of men said to be here would be able to help her, to help her mother.

She made for the door, but the six guards surrounding her, their armour shining and heavy, made for her to wait. “Princess, we have no idea if this place is safe.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” She said stubbornly, stepping past her guards and walking up to the door. The guards, nervousness showing in their visored eyes, followed behind her closely.

There was a heavy knock at the door as the princess nearly bruised her hand, trying to make a sound.

“Hello? The Princess of Arrowfell wishes to speak with Captain Thorne.” She said loud enough that her voice would carry.

After a brief hesitation, Princess Keove attempted to open the door to the iron mine.

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Odonfield, Duke of Rhinecliff's Estate

@ERode

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It was a beautiful day in Odonfield. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming. And all seemed right in the world.

At least, when a chessboard was laid out, pieces could only perceive what was around them. It could appear peachy on the ground floor. But someone with a view in a tower, over the board, could easily see the storm approaching.

The wind stirred, cooler than normal, as an illustrious carriage pulled up to the Duke of Rhinecliff’s estate. The driver pulled the carriage door to the side, and out stepped a petite noble girl, white hair curling in the wind. She had a sharp urgency in her crystal blue eyes, gazing up at the expansive estate.

Anyone who recognized her would know she was Viscount Asteria Skybound, a noble preferred by the Queen. What not everyone would know, was that she preferred to travel with her twin brother, Viscount Mene Skybound. And today, her brother was strangely absent.

Her face set in innocent neutrality, the little viscount made her way to the large doors of the duke's estate. A white gloved hand rapped on the door, and she spoke in a sweet-like voice.

“Is Duke Rhinecliff in? I have an urgent matter to discuss.”

As she spoke, her thoughts traveled to her seed, which glimmered as she activated its power. Now, her chances of seeing the duke were increased.

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Late Evening

Tarin, Duke of Corrin's Estate

@Theyra

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There was a somber note in the air as a portal appeared in front of the Duke of Corrin's estate. The travelers were far from home, but this needed to be said. It couldn't wait any longer.

Viscount Vullian Urimyar emerged from the portal, his head lowered, white hair blowing in the breeze. As he ascended the steps, servants behind him carried gifts for the House: assorted bouquets of magically enlivened flowers, pearl necklaces, and Gold-touch Wine.

He was here on official business from the Queen. He knew a particular noble here, Roland Corrin, was suffering from the pain inflicted when the Wizard Queen made her ascension. Now he was here to try and patch things over, offer the House something good as condolences.

He and the servants of Hathforth Castle made their way to the door, and he knocked twice.

“Hello? Official business from the Queen, will you see us?”

[Izurich]

--College of Hathforth - Classroom--

Unlike the struggles or resignations displayed by her classmates, there's naught but serene concentration from the ash-haired Lilim as she held out her palms, where a sphere of metal could be seen floating in the space between. Nothing could disrupt her focus...

Hmph, the envious stares from these insipid creatures you call 'classmates' annoy me.

...yes, not even the dark, echoing voice reverberating in her very soul.

Hush, Kronos, that's irrelevant. She quipped back to the voice, or more specifically, the creature behind said voice, the Dremora of Time, Kronos, who was forcibly fused with her by her own mother in a desperate bid to save her sickly, dying body.

After receiving a scholarship from the Society of Young Magic and then over the months since the semester began, Melisande of the Tearmoon Coven had quickly proven herself to be a talented magus, and while magical talents were to be expected from her kin, the coven matriarch's daughter was considered exceptional even amongst her people, so much so that even the Society's founder, Court Mage Blackthorne spoke highly of her, elevating her fame further.

However, while they weren't exactly mistaken about her arcane talents as this much was indeed expected due to her fey-touched blood, Melisande herself believed she wasn't particularly extraordinary as the reason behind her prodigious talents was her "twin sibling". Dremora essence flowed through her veins, amplifying her already excellent magical potential to new heights. Unfortunately, Kronos itself demanded that no one else must know of its existence, it had always been a reclusive entity, whether in the shade or here in the material plane. As such, Melisande had no choice but to claim all the 'glory' for herself, even if she didn't deserve it.

Still, to Kronos' credit, she could see where it's coming from. After all, fame often brought its own share of issues. Between the Lilim's talents and nymphet beauty, the amount of confessions Melisande had received from her fellow students was beyond counting, and along with them, envy. A few times now, she had been confronted by heartbroken girls (and some boys) who blamed her for "stealing" their lover. Apparently, even though said lover was the one who cheated on them by confessing to another person, it's still her fault for being such a wicked temptress, though she was anything but surprised, especially considering the coven she belonged to was infamously known as a den of spouse snatchers.

Truly, she had not the time, nor energy for those frivolous pursuits. Her studies and most certainly, her mission were far more important. Yet, they wouldn't believe her and at this point, Melisande had decided to simply pay them no mind, both admirers and detractors. So indeed, nothing could break her concentration...

...or so she thought. Upon hearing what the bespectacled faculty staff said, the Lilim let the orb float down to rest on its pedestal then turned her pale indigo eyes toward the older girl, "I shall be there promptly, ma'am."

Without further ado, the adolescent student made her way out of the classroom, passing the curious, jealous, and jealously curious stares of her classmates.

What is that frail human planning?

He's Headmaster Ashan, not frail human.

Hmph, no mortal is worthy to be my master.

Kronos...

@Estylwen

[ERode]

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//Rhinecliff Estate
_{@Estylwen@Donut Look Now}

“Olivia, you’ve worked hard these past years. Consider what I’m about to do for you now a small reward. Don’t be greedy, understood?”

A pause. A ring of smoke bloomed out from the nobleman’s lips as white ash was tapped into a crystalline tray.

“Though I suppose I wouldn’t be too opposed to it, if you can’t help yourself.”

…

The Rhinecliff Estate stood tall upon a cliff overlooking the Fey River. From the tallest tower, one could see the entirety of the nobleman’s domain, terraced fields and irrigation channels fueling the agriculture that made up the second half of the city-state’s name. Grand as the ancient walls and gothic spires were, they appeared muted in comparison to the architectural wonders of Odonfield itself, with grand libraries and universities, with the great cathedrals of the All-Force and the hundreds of scribes that continued their work in illustrating beautiful tomes and texts. Wondrous too, was the purpose with which people carried their lives, the light of ambition or inquisitiveness that drew so many here. Though they lacked the gambling halls and places of pleasure that Caelin held, Odonfield was a nexus as well, and infinitely more accessible than that sea-bound place.

Indeed, House Rhinecliff had protected their domain during the bloodstained era of the splintered province, had made the city-state ever more prosperous during the reign of the erudite King, and had safeguarded Odonfield’s interests even into the tyrannical era, where Seeds of unnatural power shattered the paradigm of spell and sword. The golden era had not yet faded, and even in the absence of their lord, the servants of House Rhinecliff were not so undignified as to allow a Viscount to bruise her knuckles against the great doors of their master’s abode.

The doors swung inwards, a handsome butler bowing in the Viscount’s presence. “His Grace is out at the moment, Viscountess Skybound,” she said. “He’s out hunting, but we expect him to return within the hour. If it would please you, allow us to receive you in the lounge until then.”

Of course, if such matters truly were so urgent, the young viscount ought to have no reason to decline. She would be brought up two floors up to one of the many rooms within the Rhinecliff Estate. Books lined one shelf for her perusal, while large windows opened up for a view of the city-state on a separate wall. A pot of tea and accompanying snacks were brought in a few moments later as the viscount was allowed to enjoy herself upon the plush seating, while a servant stood silently by the door, prepared to attend to any other need of hers. Time passed idly, the gears of the clock spinning in their perpetual measure.

And then, in due time, Duke Laurent Rhinecliff, black gloves adorning his hands and a dark blue cloak tossed over his shoulders, entered.

He was as sharply-dressed as could ever be expected of a duke receiving one of the favoured viscounts of the Wizard-Queen, the only strands of hair that were out of place having been intentional. In the subdued lighting of the lounge, his circular glasses did not gain the sharp glare they often did in other encounters, allowing the warmth of his brown eyes to come through more easily. There was amusement present as he strode in, the faint scent of the forest carried by his stride and accompanied by hints of sweat and blood.

“Lady Skybound,” he said, his moustache tickling the back of her hand as he greeted her. “I do hope the road to Odonfield was pleasantly uneventful. To what do I owe your visit?”

[Donut Look Now]

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Nyx Heir the Wanderer

Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

_{Skills: Shift
@ERode@Estylwen}

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This is no reward, this is another one of His Grace’s tests. Nyx fidgets in the carriage as it pulls up to Hathforth Castle and pulls on the black gloves that were made identical to the Duke’s. Although accustomed to over a century of wearing different people as a variety of disguises, it feels wrong playing the formidable Duke Rhinecliff. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s been a loyal servant of his for the past few years, but it could also have to do with the rigorous education she has been put through to become the perfect spy for him.

The carriage stops and a footman opens the door, letting Nyx climb out and head into Hathforth Castle. It’s always been awkward disguising as men for Nyx with all the extra bit and pieces hanging about, but this is why she had spent so many nights in the Duke’s bedchambers recently. Her gait matches the Duke’s and she oozes confidence as she enters the throne room.

It comes as no surprise when the crowd looks at the entrance as the Duke is announced, and Nyx flashes a smug smile before she and the footman, who carries the Duke’s present for the Wizard Queen, make their way towards the throne. Whispers follow as the guests eagerly latch on to this new piece of gossip to discuss.

Ever the perfectionist, once Nyx reaches the throne she executes a perfect bow to the queen before straightening and gesturing for the footman to present the gift to Advisor Vulluin Urimyar. For the grand finale of this show, Nyx bends and kisses the rings on the Wizard Queen’s fingers, his mustache lightly brushing the back of her hand.

“Your Majesty,” Nyx says in the voice of Duke Rhinecliff as her brown eyes crinkle in a warm smile. “What a delight you are for sore eyes.”

[LunarParadox]

Court Mage and Advisor Eirwen Blackthorne
Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

@Estylwen@Donut Look Now

Eirwen, as was typical of him these days, was not in a particularly good mood; the balls had been entertaining for his first few months in the court, but after experiencing them in what seemed like an endless loop, they ranged from boring to sheer annoyances. His weariness of the whole affair did not mean he could slack off in terms of his presence, however. No, as always, he must be regal, beautiful, elegant, cold. It was a delicate balance he had perfected, to make himself alluring enough to catch eyes and distant enough to keep his secrets.

He expected he'd be asked to perform a Snowfall again today. Sometimes he regretted ever revealing he knew that spell.

He'd chosen the most extravagant of robes for this gala, outshone only by the Queen herself - for of course, he'd never dare to outshine her. Black satin and silver embroidery in the shape of winding vines made up his garments, ending in short train that ghosted the floors in his wake; his dark hair was lined with strings of silver and pearls, and at his breast lay the pin that subdued his tumultuous emotions down to a bearable simmer. He already wielded his own goblet of Gold-touch Wine, craving the pleasant hum that would make this evening a little more bearable. Heels clicked against the floor as he approached the throne and the three gathered there - the Queen, Vullian, and Lord Rhinecliff.

What a dangerous combination.

It would be rude to interrupt, even if it was technically within his rights as an advisor. But no, he had manners, or was at least good at pretending he did, and so he stood a short distance to the side. A brief nod of acknowledgement would be given if any of them were to look his way, but unless called over by the Queen in person, he'd be content to wait his turn to speak. In the meantime, his gaze cast over the throne room with a critical eye, taking note of every face present - and perhaps more importantly, every face absent.

He would remember them all.

[Estylwen]

Hathforth, The College of Hathforth, Headmaster’s Office

@Izurich

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Soon enough, Mèlisande would find herself at the door to the headmaster's office. At a simple press, she would find it open willingly. Inside was a spectacle for the eyes. The headmasters' office was filled with such an ornament of objects that one could become lost in exploring. Bookshelves were lined with old tomes. An alchemical table was set up to one side, simmering and bubbling with warmth and unknown potential. Spectral birds flitted across a false sky that made for the ceiling.

And, at the far end of the office lay an old, impressive desk littered with papers. Some papers had even been enchanted to float around the old headmaster as he sat there, engrossed in a correspondence. Other oddments adorned his desk: a globe of the world, an emblem from the Wizard Queen to denote his station, and strange gems.

As Mèlisande stepped forward, Caveus raised his head, the momentary gloom in his eyes replacing with joy.

“Ah, Mèlisande, please, come in, come in,” he waved her over to one of the seats in front of his desk. He leaned to the side, opening a drawer to pull out a small pouch. He opened it, pulling out a single sweet, before placing it in front of her.

“Hathforth's finest, have a try, my dear.” He said, a soft smile on his face as he popped one of the sweets into his own mouth.

A pause, before he cleared a space in front of his desk, placing a ribboned parchment in front of Mèlisande. A seriousness was in his eyes.

He gestured to the parchment. “This came today for you, my dear. An excellent opportunity, especially for someone of your exceptional skill.”

If Mèlisande were to open the parchment, she would find inside an invitation from none other than the Wizard Queen.

Caveus cleared his throat, lacing his fingers on the desk. “It’s an internship. Her Majesty believes you would be an excellent fit to shadow her Court Mage, Lord Blackthorne.”

He held up a hand, as if to anticipate her next question. “No, it won't affect your studies here. It would be supplemental. But… if you perform well there, you might secure yourself a most prestigious position within Her Majesty’s court, access to resources we could only dream of here.”

There was a pause, before he gave a nod of his head. “I understand your scholarship was originally through Lord Blackthrone, yes? Perhaps this is a good opportunity for you. You'll have access to one of the finest mages in Arrowfell.”

Even as he spoke hopefully, there was a hint of worry in his voice. Caveus leaned back in his seat, staring at his student for a long moment, before he buried that worry, and addressed her again.

“Many of your fellow classmates will be quite jealous of your internship. Don't let it bother you, my dear.” He said, a wise smile pulling at his elderly features.

He gestured to the letter. “It mentioned you should report to the castle as soon as possible. You can decide when the right time is, my dear.”

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Odonfield, Duke of Rhinecliff's Estate

@ERode

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The small noble girl blushed, receiving the duke's greeting on her hand. Temporarily flustered, she curtsied deeply, head bowed.

“Yes, Your Grace, the road was quiet, and the river didn't whisk me away.”

She smiled at the Duke, taking in his form a little more closely. She had only met him a handful of times before her father's untimely passing, and had always felt there's was an ‘uncle's aura about him. His eyes were looking kindly down at her, despite her connection to the Queen.

It was no wonder why the people loved him. His charisma could alight in something as simple as a look.

Asteria's soft blue eyes graced the floor, her fingers fiddling with her dress, a tell something was at play in the back of her mind. Something… terrible.

She was on business from the Queen. But what she was about to do. What she was about to enable… Did the good duke deserve it?

Asteria's eyes narrowed, forcing a shield of apathy to cross her vision. She didn't have the luxury to doubt herself. She owed her peace and the peace of her House to the Queen. She wouldn't let the Queen down.

She looked up at the Duke, making a show of vulnerability in her eyes.

“Your Grace, I've come to give you warning of the utmost importance. There's a thief going through the province, pilfering and stealing from noble households late in the night.”

She stood a little taller, her small voice matching the plea in her eyes. “Based on his pattern, your house will be targeted next. I would implore you to double the guard, and take care not to leave any valuables unguarded.”

Asteria shuffled a bit on her feet, fiddling with her dress again. “No one… No one knows what he looks like, just that he's especially good at taking trinkets and spitting in the faces of the nobles.”

She gazed back up at the duke. “You are dear to me, Your Grace, so I had to let you know in person. I hope I haven't alarmed you too much.”

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Meanwhile, slipping through an unattended window, a young child dressed in a dark cloak snuck into the Rhinecliff estate. He moved down the hallway like a shadow, ducking out of sight just as servants came around the corner.

A glimmer of a ring caught a flash of light as he stalked down another hallway, peering into every door. He had one goal, and one goal only:

Find the treasury, and do it unseen. If it was at all possible, he'd do it, or die trying.

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Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

@Psyker Landshark, @LunarParadox, @Donut Look Now

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With her hand still held, the Wizard Queen's head rolled to the side slightly, and she gave a curious look.

Mixed signals.

The other courtiers and nobles, of course, had to stifle gasps, covering their mouths. The duke himself? Here? When everyone thought he wouldn't show, he had gone and surprised the entire hall.

There was hope in their tones as they murmured amongst themselves. Was this a good sign? Would there finally be no disagreement between Odenfield and the Queen?

“You grace us with your presence, Duke of Rhinecliff. Does this mean you've finally come around?” The Wizard Queen said, her tone level, even.

Her eyes glanced to the gift Vullian held, and with a gesture of her chin, he opened it. Inside was a ribboned package of cigars encased in crystal. She gazed a bit more closely - was that gold leaf she spotted?

A short stream of air leaving her nose, the Wizard Queen picked up the crystalline container and held it up to the light.

“Exquisite. Truly, a gift fit for a queen, Duke Rhinecliff.” She said, her tone betraying no hint of her real emotions.

She handed the cigars back to Vullian, before she gazed, her eyes half-lidded, across the floor, singling out one face in particular. Her hand raised, and she gestured for Lady Haliel to come to the throne.

Her attention returned to the duke. “I leave you in the hands of my trusted Lady Haliel. She will help you settle your accounts, and ascertain everything is in order.”

And see just where this generosity is coming from…

She waited, allowing for the duke to take his leave of her so her lady could ‘ascertain’. Before she knew the eyes on her were waiting ever-so-patiently, and she turned her head, looking directly at her advisor and court mage, Lord Blackthorne. A gentle smile graced her features, her eyes twinkling.

She had a surprise for her close advisor and friend.

Her hand raised, and she beckoned Eirwen forward. She waited until he was near enough that she could speak in a moderate tone, warm notes in her voice.

“I know these galas tire you so, Lord Blackthorne. But I have news that may put the lightness back in your step.”

Her head tilted, a thumb running across her bottom lip. “Have you heard of Mèlisande Tearmoon? She's become quite prestigious at the College.”

The Wizard Queen smiled, eyes watching her court mage carefully.

“I've asked her to become your new apprentice. I have great hopes that the both of you can push the boundaries of magic as we know it.”

[LunarParadox]

Court Mage and Advisor Eirwen Blackthorne
Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

@Estylwen

Eirwen stepped forward at the Queen's beckon, returning her smile with a very faint one of his own. His smile was a rare commodity; it wasn't uncommon for him to overhear it as a subject of gossip, even.

He always looks so stern. Is it an elvish thing, do you think?

I think I'd faint on the spot if he smiled at me!

I was lucky enough to meet him once. I told him a joke, but he just stared at me...so embarrassing.

What was he, an advisor or a novelty behind a gilded cage?

Now wasn't the time to ponder on the reality of his existence, however. Expressive pointed ears flicked at the mention of the talented Tearmoon girl. He remembered her quite clearly, having been instrumental in securing her a place at the college. Chronomancy had immense potential, at least in his own expert magical opinion, and so he had high hopes for Melisande. If anyone were to become his apprentice, she would be among the best-suited for the role.

The appreciation in his expression and tone as he thanked the Queen was genuine. After all, the expansion of magical education was his passion; granting him an apprentice was the best gift she could have offered.

"Thank you, your Majesty. I will be sure to guide her well and keep you informed of our progress." His voice was quiet, soft, with a faint rasp that suggested minor damage may have occurred once upon a time. It dropped to little more than a whisper at his next words, words meant for the Queen alone. "We've an unexpected guest today, hm?" Rhinecliff's presence had surprised him, though it didn't show on his face.

[twannyman]

---

Captain Roderic Thorne.
The Hands of Iron Hideout

---

It was an uneventful day at the base. Some of the sellswords were in the mine extracting the very little iron that was still around. The sound of clanging of hammers was heard all around the base, the smiths actively forging various weaponry and other useful bits and bolts. Roderic himself was mostly out and about, overseeing the day-to-day activities when one of the gate guards came up to him. "Captain!! Captain!! Someone who claims to be a princess wants to see you."

Meanwhile at the gate crossbows were raised towards the unknown carriages, the gate closed and the guard very warily looking at the approaching party. While they did not seem to be hostile initially, in this line of work that could all change in the blink of an eye. One of the more experienced members responded to the shout; "And how can we be so sure you are who you say you are?!"

Slowly but surely Roderic himself made his way towards the gate. Just as he reached it a small hand tried to open the gate; "Well princess you are fearless just to open this gate with only a handful of guards aren't you?" To be honest Thorne wasn't surprised that the current Royal family had sent someone towards his hideout. Unease could be felt throughout the province and as such sellswords such as himself would become a valuable force for many. "So what brings you to my cosy little camp Princess?"

---

Tags

@Estylwen

[Psyker Landshark]

Lady Safina Haliel

For someone who'd spent the formative years of her life as a street urchin, one would think Safina would be rather taken by the novelty of masquerading as a noble, attending balls regularly, wearing a slinky black dress more expensive than entire towns' worth, and living in a castle, of all things. One would be wrong. She had better things to do than this constant maintenance of her cover. Like actually being back out in the field, overseeing her Concord's cells. Unfortunately, Evelyn liked her little galas far too much for Safina's taste. And it was either put up with this or deal with constantly sneaking in and out of Hathforth Castle to report in.

So Safina kept a thin smile on her lips, her gaze not so much insincere as it was just aloof. Her ears picked up various whispers around the court, but she didn't react outwardly to any of them. Nothing of particular importance, just the same insipid gossip ad nauseum.

And then something interesting happened. Duke Rhinecliff, in the flesh. Well, well. Wasn't this a surprise? Safina wasn't sure if this move was bold or foolish, considering his arrival did nothing to make up for the veritable ledger of unpaid taxes his duchy owed. A preemptive move to try to save face? Or something else? Her eyes traced over Eirwen for a moment, searching for his reaction to the Duke's arrival. Nothing. Of course not. The mage had been more than good at keeping a steady poker face in court.

Then Evelyn called upon her, and Safina stepped forward, curtsying before she rose.

"As Your Highness bids. If you'll follow me, Duke Rhinecliff?" Safina gestured towards the Duke, turning and walking away while expecting him to follow. She led the man out of the throne room and through a few adjacent hallways before entering a small office.

"Sit, by all means." That cool smile was still plastered on her face as she sunk into the plush chair behind the desk, opening it to pull out a ledger, which she opened.

"Empty." Her gaze was sharp. A servant entered, pouring the both of them a goblet of wine each, before bowing and making a hasty departure. Safina ignored her cup, her focus on the Duke. "Your show of fealty is appreciated, of course. But the Crown would rather prefer a more material demonstration of loyalty than symbolic. Nearly a year's worth of unpaid taxes. And do not lie to me; Odonfield is more than prosperous at the moment." The implication that it could change.

"So where, oh where, could all your tax revenue be? Personal debts? Church ties? Keeping artists and scholars fed? Faith and culture are all very well and good, Duke Rhinecliff, but just as your people pay their taxes to you, their feudal lord, so too must you pay your duchy's share to the Crown."

Safina's gaze was more predatory than anything now, a glint in her eyes.

"By all standards, you are little better than a debtor right now. That little show to the Queen has bought you the courtesy of a chance to come clean. Or at least to work out the beginnings of a payment plan. One way or another, my lord, Hathforth will have what it is due. Are we clear?"

@Donut Look Now

[Click This]

Mirie Agustria of the Grand Bank,

Duchess of Caelin

---

Hathforth\\
@Estylwen

Mirie was the ‘second’ of the dukedoms to make her appearance, as she left her carriage. The duchess was in her gala best, as usual—this time, she was wearing a dark, shoulder less dress, fitting to her figure. Her seed, one of her best kept secrets, known only to a few, hung openly in its usual place, together with her large black ribbon that featured prominently in her accented black hair. The rich ducal cloak that she wore covered what would have otherwise been bare shoulders, and as she stepped out, she held in one hand an exquisitely crafted cane-sword, topped with a large prominent ruby-red gemstoned carved in the symbol of her crest. It was a fashion accessory that floated along if she released it, and a hidden weapon, too.

As something that she regularly carried, it was the sort of thing that eyes were immediately drawn to, while the real seed she kept also hid in plain sight.

Alongside her was the Countess Minuette, a noble from Caelin and her personal handmaiden. Although she usually wore a different uniform, today Mirie’s plus-one wore a more conservative dress. Taking a brief moment to speak to their carriage driver, her noble servant took up a heavy but manageable gift box for the queen.

As always, the treats from the province’s wealthiest noble were meant to always delight. Within the gilt-leathered box, nestled in velvet was a small selection of bottles of Caelin’s finest condiments, a rare treat that would cost nobles a small fortune. The greater gift, however, were the imports from abroad—a fine trinket from a kingdom impossibly far that acted as a small protective charm, and a bottle off fine Etrian whiskey, aged 40 years. Next to it was a new Caelin product—20-year aged Caelin whiskey, from the year that Mirie had ascended the dukedom. It had been a project of hers at the time, and rumors had it that the duchess’s own distilleries were hoping to make whiskey into not just another one of the island’s specialties after copying the technique from faraway Etria, as its new crown jewel. From the few nobles that had tried, it compared favorably to the famous Etrian example.

Mirie had her idiosyncrasies, but when she could, she kept on outwardly friendly terms with nearly everyone, no matter her private opinions. They were all potentially valued clients. With the wealth she had, warm gestures such as lavish gifts and minor favors paid dividends for Caelin, its merchants, and its people. This was naturally extended to the queen, too, given that the woman did seem to deal her a more even hand and court her favor and business despite her tyranny—money talked. Of course, she favored certain people more than others—the Duke of Odenfield she had known since her childhood, compared to the queen, which had been nearly an unknown quantity until merely two years ago before making a right mess of provincial politics and prematurely ending a few friendships… and liaisons that she would have preferred to keep longer.

Spying the ‘duke’ greeting the queen as Mirie made her entrance with all the grace of a powerful duchess, she had to suppress an amused smile as the very example of that difference played out here. The small amusement she had between herself and Rhinecliff was already unfolding before her. Somewhat riskier than she usually operated, perhaps, but Mirie did enjoy her games of fun. Being in the know on this was one of the boons that she had from Rhinecliff partially divining her secret, although she doubted the man was able to confirm with certainty her very efficient manner of transportation was from a very valuable seed.

The duchess plucked a glass of Gold-touch Wine from a servant’s tray as she slowly approached. The usual gossip washed over her, but she returned greetings when given. She could see the duke’s pet fey had given an exquisite performance. And what a performance it was!

But its end meant it was showtime for Mirie, too.

She gave a commensurate greeting to the Wizard-Queen as she approached together with Minuette, who made her own before handing over her liege’s gift box to the queen’s waiting advisor. “Your majesty,” the duchess replied in a warm voice, “It is good to see you and the capital in its splendor once more, and I am looking forward to enjoying this fine evening.”

And indeed, she was. She truly did enjoy such galas and events. There was the noble politics, yes, but Mirie could still never turn down free food and drink.

And the opportunity for a little bit of fun.

---

Rhinecliff Estate\\
@Estylwen @ERode

Later…

In a certain Estate, a ring on an unbidden finger caught the glint of light as it approached a door with a certain crystal within. Observing, as it was consulted, the unexpected intrusion gave its user pause, but the Lady on the other end continued. A ruby glowed, and the crystal in the drawer responded.

The door opened, revealing the very familiar form of a certain duchess in her gala dress, her sparking Gold-touch Wine in hand as she raised an eyebrow at the white-haired boy that now invaded her fleeting sanctuary.

“Oh, Viscount Skybound. What brings you to this part of the province, on this day?” The duchess of Caelin looked unperturbed.

Unexpected as the encounter was for her and likely the boy, she was very good at bullshitting and recovering fast.

She winked.

“For a common reason, perhaps?”

[Donut Look Now]

---

---

Nyx Heir the Wanderer

Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

_{Skills: Shift
@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark@Click This}

---

---

The duke’s face gives the Wizard Queen a charming smile, but inside Nyx struggles to keep this facade up. She’s so close to the queen, so close to being able to avenge Bertram in one quick move. “Don’t get greedy. The real duke’s voice sounds in her head as a reminder. The woman who killed her one love gestures to someone behind Nyx and the fey fights to keep a straight face when the queen mentions ‘settling her accounts’.

Oh good, he really sent me into a lion’s den this time. She gives another perfect bow to the queen. “Your Majesty.” Nyx says, giving her hand another kiss before following Lady Safina. The other woman doesn’t speak as she leads ‘the duke’ through the halls away from the gala and into a small office.

When the lady bids him to sit, Nyx smiles and tilts her head in a way that catches the light’s reflection - something the real duke was fond of doing to appear less than pleasant. “I would rather stand.” Nyx says simply as she watches Lady Safina pull out a ledger. She lets the woman talk, feeling her frustration for the duke and his games grow, but the smile doesn’t leave her face.

“Crystal clear, my lady.” She says in response. “I am certain we will arrive at an agreement over this soon. Now, if I may, I do believe I caught Duchess Agustria entering the gala and I would be quite bereft if we were to miss each other.” Nyx nods her head before exiting the office, offering silent prayers to the gods that Lady Safina does not follow her.

[Theyra]

Roland Corrin

@Estylwen

It was late at House Corrin's Estate and a particularly long day for Roland. Busy was his day, helping out his brother with running the duchy and doing other similar work. A process that Roland had never thought about doing before and simply left it to his other family members in his youth. But, back home and with family after what happened, Roland feels inclined to help out despite not knowing the details of how to rule. Still, he has been getting the hang of it and being a use for his brother.

But now it is the time to relax and unwind after a good dinner. Crayfish is always a good choice and his favorite. So Roland found himself on the balcony and lying down on a recliner. From the balcony in the back of the estate, he had a good view of the city and the Torna Mountains, but instead, Roland looked up and gazed at the stars. Despite not knowing much about the stars or the constellations that have been recorded by scholars. He did enjoy looking at them when he wanted to relax and now seemed like a perfect time for it.

"I knew I would catch you here."

Roland knew the voice and turned his head to see his brother leaning on the railing, looking out towards the city. "Well, old habits die hard, I suppose," Roland replied back. "But why are you here? Shouldn't you be with Gwyneth at this hour?"

"Yeah, I should..., but I wanted to talk to you first about something."

"And what is that, dear brother?"

"It is just that I have been thinking about things, and I have been wondering. What are your plans for the future?" Nathan turned around and was now leaning against the railing while looking at Roland. "I know, of course, that business we have going but past that. I got running the duchy and raising my child once they arrive into this world. But, have you ever thought about your future?"

Roland lay there for a moment to think before talking, "I... I have not thought about that far."

"Really? Nothing at all?" Sounding disappointed, Surely you can have something planned for after, like finding a wife, for example."

Roland chuckled at the thought, "Finding a wife? I suppose that could be one, and I have to admit it would be nice to have what you and Gwyneth have."

"Love is a good thing, and I highly recommend it. But, you are not the type to just lay around the estate. I mean, you were a royal guard for a reason, and not many can say they earned an honor like that."

"That is true, and I know I do not want to be a lowly mercenary that is for should."

Nathan was about to say something when a butler showed up and offered a short bow before speaking. "I am sorry to disturb you, master, but there is an elf at the door with official business from the Queen. It appears to be advisor Vulluin Urimyar, if I am not mistaken."

Both Nathan and Roland perked up, with Roland sitting up in the recliner. "Where is he now, Conrad?" Nathan asked while standing straight up now.

"I have directed him to the lounge, and he is waiting there with servants. From the look of it, they are bearing gifts."

"Did Vulluin say what kind of business he is here for?" Conrad, Roland asked.

"No, he did not, sir."

Roland got up from the recliner and walked over to Nathan. "Well, in that case, I should probably meet Vulluin and see why he is here."

Nathan spoke up, "You sure you want to do that, brother? I mean, I am the duke after all, and how you feel about the queen."

"Yes, it is late, and he did not say why he is here, and I figure that after having a long day like you had. You could use some rest, and I am more than happy to entertain... a guest of the queen for you, and if Vulluin wants you, then I will just get you."

Nathan thought about it for a moment before replying, "I am okay with this, and try not to screw things up," Nathan remarked jokingly.

"I will not, and well, time to see what Vulluin wants." So Roland exited the balcony and headed straight towards the lounge. Truth be told, he did not want to do this, but he was willing to do it for his brother's sake. Since who shows up at this hour of night anyway? Couldn't Vulluin just wait till morning or something? Either way, time to meet Vulluin and see what he wants.

So Roland entered the lounge, a great room like any nobility's lounge, and as Conard said, it was advisor Vulluin Urimyar in the flesh. Roland could recognize him anywhere and addressed the elf. "Hello, advisor Urimyar. If you are looking for my brother, then he is preoccupied at the moment. I am here if this matter does not concern him." Roland sat down on a chair as a servant brought a fresh teapot with cups to the table. Roland sent her away, and she waited near the door if anyone wanted anything.

"So, advisor, what brings you to Tarin at this hour?" Nothing bad, I hope, Roland thought as he waited for the advisor's answer."

[Izurich]

--College of Hathforth - Headmaster's Office--

Soon enough, the Tearmoon 'coven princess' found herself entering the personal study of the esteemed Headmaster Ashan. Though this wasn't her first time here, Melisande couldn't help but be mesmerized by the mystical vista of the office; both beautiful and practical, the chamber was pleasing to the eyes while maintaining its function as a place of learning. She could see herself spending months or even years simply perusing the nigh-endless trove of knowledge contained within those shelves. Alas, she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Upon Caveus' invitation, the indigo-eyed Lilim calmly approached the accomplished magus many decades her senior, standing before his desk of curious trinkets. "I'm here, Headmaster." She turned her gaze down at the petite pouch and then the confectionary offered to her.

Beware of toxin lurking behind a veil of sweetness.

Kronos, not every gift is laced with venom. Sometimes, they really are gifts.

"Thank you, sir." The student graciously accepted the sweets and consumed it, enjoying its fine culinary craftsmanship and at the same time disproving Kronos' paranoia. Before she could rub it in the Dremora's face, however, something more important was presented to her.

With subtly curious eyes, Melisande removed the ribbon then unfolded the parchment to access the contents within. She proceeded to meticulously reach each and every single word.

So, the Dremora Enslaver herself wishes to shackle us too. How predictable.

I do not believe she's aware of your existence, Kronos.

Ha, the fact that the vexatious feyling knew how to abduct me from my home is proof enough of their conspiracy. Regardless, we shall humor her... so I can drag her kicking and screaming into the Shade, her symphonic cries of agony shall ring through my domain.

... ... ...

"I am extremely honored, Headmaster." Melisande curled a convincing smile, concealing the turmoil in her heart due to finding merits in Kronos' assumptions. Regardless, being involved in the Wizard Queen's inner circle would undoubtedly expedite her mission.

"Yes, through the Society of Young Magic to be more specific, Lord Blackthorne's foundation for academic pursuits." To be studying directly under the Court Mage himself... indeed this was an opportunity of a lifetime. However, she couldn't help but wonder if Mother - and even the Wizard Queen herself - had arranged something behind the curtains. After all, even though Duke Rhinecliff had promised the Tearmoon Matriarch that he'd provide assistance should her daughter needs it, Mother ultimately wouldn't care whose side the coven would be on as long as they could replace the Royal Gardeners.

She'd imagine the Duke of Odonfield wouldn't be in favor of this arrangement...

My classmates are irrelevant.

"I certainly wish they can be given similar opportunities, sir." She nodded with a small, demure smile, feigning the bare minimum of faux care. "Understood, take care, professor." With the next step of her task already laid out for her, Melisande took her leave from the office, returning to her dormitory to prepare for her departure to Hathforth Castle.

@Estylwen

[ERode]

---

//Rhinecliff Estate
_@Estylwen

“Curious news indeed, Lady Skybound. Rare is it that a lion’s heart dwells within a thief’s chest!” The Duke chuckled at the thought. Perhaps 25 years ago, back when war drove warriors out to the edges of provinces, thieves would mix in with assassins to challenge the estates of nobility, but now, in the peace begun by Ludwig and continued by Evelyn? It was folly to do so. Folly, even if founded in the power of a Seed. And if the Wizard-Queen had it her way, she'd empty out his coffers far more efficiently than a thief would.

He smiled nonetheless, taking a sip of the tea.

“But thank you nonetheless, for coming here to deliver such news. Though I imagine you would like to return to Hathforth to safeguard the interests of your own House, might I invite you to the courtyard for a meal and an opportunity to stretch your legs before then?” Laurent folded his hands upon his lap. "Ah, and has your brother come along? I've thought the two of you as inseparable, but perhaps even twins have sibling spats on occasion."

[Irradiant]

Duchess Altina Freya Bastille, The "Valkyrie"

At Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala, on 14th Hearthfire, 1402

---

I: Parade of Precursors

The neighing of horses, followed shortly by the swinging open of the carriage door, marked Altina's arrival at the Hearthfire Gala. "Your Grace, we are here," spoke one of her retainers, the white-haired man of advanced age, to be exact. "Thank you, Sawyer." Altina would acknowledge him with a nod before descending the carriage's steps. Click. Click. Click.

"Oh, how I have longed to partake in another party. And one hosted by the Wizard Queen herself, no less. What an auspicious day today is!"

The duchess twirled in her dress, partly to revel in its construction. The visual stimulation of wind blowing creases into its seams, the slight bounce of the dress as it rides the air — some may think it strange, but Altina had always derived an odd, if not childish, satisfaction from such things.

"My compliments to seamstress Eleanor for her work. Truly an ensemble fit for a monarch, this."

Made of layered fabrics, the dress itself was indeed intricately constructed, a product of hours of meticulous labor. It was purple, and tight at the bottom, which admittedly made it hard to move in, as it forced her legs close together at all times. Still, Altina remained undeterred in wearing it. She'd had it specifically tailored for her figure, after all. This was a challenge, if nothing else, and a mild inconvenience at most.

A distinguishing part of the dress was its train, which hung loosely at the hips. It was translucent as well, to allow full view of the floral, vine-like patterns that were sown into the rest of the dress. Of course, it would not do if she did not wear any armor. She was a socialite second, and the "Valkyrie" first. And so, at her behest, a breastplate was fashioned into a corset. Now the raiment truly captured Altina's essence. With all the elegance of a noble, and all the stoutness of a warrior, she strutted into the castle hall, her steps punctuated by a light but firm tapping.

"Oh, enough of that Lady Justitia. You must have more confidence in yourself. Despite the years, even the curse of age has not dimmed the radiance of your beauty!"

"Suave and polite. For that, you may lay your lips on my hand, Sir Raymond."

Like a fish to water, Altina wasted no time in fraternizing with her fellow nobles, some of whom she had not seen in a while. Lady Justitia was one such individual, and it had been nearly a decade since they'd spoken last, what with the lady's predisposition to illness. As far as her memories could take her, Altina could recall Lady Justitia's presence during her ascension at the latest. Lady Justitia proved to be one of Altina's most ardent supporters then. But obviously, that was long ago. Much too long. Perhaps if the Lady were in better health, there would have been more opportunities for the two of them to keep contact. Regardless, this was the first gala that she had attended since Lady Evelyn's coronation. And Altina would relish in it for as long as she could.

Her son, Sir Raymond, also accompanied the lady. He was like a dog, the lad, always following his mother around. Given her condition, Altina could understand why. If she were to hazard a guess, Sir Raymond was likely opposed to his mother's attendance to the gala. But alas, the lady was stubborn, her spirit as unbending as tempered steel. It is only her body that fails her.

Despite old habits, the little Raymond that Altina teased in the past had undoubtedly grown up. He'd gotten taller, and the fuzz of hair aloft his chin had manifested into a well-combed beard. That said, to bend on one knee to offer her a kiss on the hand... He was still a rascal. This was a truth time did not change.

"It is nice to see the both of you again," she expressed with a genuine smile. However, from the corner of her eye, she could glimpse the Wizard Queen on her throne, along with her advisor and the court mage. Suddenly, the state of euphoria she found herself lost in was broken, sobering her back to reality.

"I'm afraid I must excuse myself."

And so, Altina marched on towards her objective, a smile still tugging at her face.

"Well, that certainly makes two of us, Duchess Agustria!"

As Altina was within earshot, she heard the black-haired woman's comment loud and clear. Seeing a chance to interject, she did just that. "With libations aplenty, it would be a waste to not indulge, even if just a tiny bit, no?" Her lips curled into the slightest smirk at the mention of alcohol.

She unbuckled the blade latched onto her hip. "Since we seem to have all had the same idea, allow me to offer you my gift as well, your Highness." Freeing the blade from its scabbard would reveal its wooden composition. Altina would run a finger through its length. "Crafted only from the most durable of Hickory trees in my garden. Wonderful, is it not, your Highness?"

While the blade was raised up high, sunlight would reflect from its silver trimming. "Calligraphy. Art in its purest form. My servants spent many a sleepless night to perfect this design, you know."

She lowered her head briefly before leveling her gaze at the Wizard Queen. "Though I suppose I cannot assume full credit. I also have Rockhold to thank for providing us with the requisite metals."

A different smile was now plastered on her face, wider than the last. "You can consider this blade a gift from them as well."

One might ask, "Did Altina reference the city of Rockhold as a subtle threat of usurpation?" With the unexpected appearance of Duke Rhinecliff, it would only be rightful, after all. And timely. It is definitely a possibility, of that one can be certain. However, it is also a perspective that is mired in bias.

One could also say she is attempting to proffer up a partnership. Considering Agrovia's ties with the dwarven city, an alliance with Agrovia could also mean an alliance with Rockhold. And having more allies would certainly only benefit the Wizard Queen's cause.

Ultimately, Altina's visage would betray neither.

Friendships wrapped in deception, truth embalmed in the sweetest of lies — such is the nature of the game the aristocracy plays in an attempt to gain power.

[Estylwen]

The Glasic Fields, Far Away from the Hearthfire Gala

---

A howl echoed across the fields that sparkled like the night sky. Blood splayed into the air as men were tossed like ragdolls, succumbing to claws made of darkness.

Other soldiers raised their blades, knees shaking as they looked up at this fearsome beast. A nightmare of a monster with rows of serrated teeth.

As it struck, it howled and cried.

“Where is she? Where is the beat of my heart? The breath in my lungs? The pulse in my veins?”

It's voice was warped and cracked, deep and reverberated, whining with pain and melancholy.

“Where is she? The betrayer, the bloodied, and stealer of glory?”

Soldiers struggled to hold the front line, trying to keep the creature back from crossing the border of the Fields and escaping.

That was, until a hand reached out, gripping the shoulder of one of the soldiers. The group of soldiers parted, allowing none other than Violetta Aliz take the front line. She stood there, a narrowed look on her face, black and gold armour heavy on her fearsome person.

She slowly spoke as she unleashed her greatsword, “Stay back, men. Leave this one to me.”

The Shadow gave a frustrated response as the men shrunk back. “Where is she? Where is she?!”

Violetta's hand began to glow green as she onehanded her greatsword, looking up at the monster. “Not sure what you mean. But I'll make this quick.”

In the next instance, a phantasmic net expanded over the monster, encumbering it, while Violetta leapt up and raised her sword, bringing it down with crushing force.

Inhuman shrieks broke the stillness of the Glasic Fields, before once again, everything melted into echoing silence.

---

Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

@LunarParadox

---

"Thank you, your Majesty. I will be sure to guide her well and keep you informed of our progress."

Eirwen

The Wizard Queen matched his smile, pleased with his response. Eirwen had never failed to please. Not in his little under two years of service. She watched him a little more closely, her precious court mage, the one she gave an exception to.

“I have no doubt you two will work wonders.” She said, her head inclining forward. “I have your first joint project ready, but I will go into more details later. I would bid you to come find my study at the conclusion of the gala, and I can discuss further with you.”

She sipped a bit of her wine, allowing it to aerate before swallowing. There was a delicate smile on her smooth features. “Who knows. We may be fortunate enough to meet your new apprentice before the evening is through.”

"We've an unexpected guest today, hm?"

Eirwen

The Wizard Queen's white eyes drifted from Eirwen to Duke Rhinecliff, who was being led away by Lady Haliel.

Hopefully she'll unearth something good.

The pleasant joy in her face gave way to disdain and suspicion, eyes never straying from Duke Rheincliff's back.

“Unexpected guest, indeed.” She said in a low voice back to Eirwen, her dear advisor. “Don't let his grace and charm fool you, Lord Blackthorne. He's up to something.”

Her face darkened, her grip on her goblet tightening ever so slightly. “Now more than ever, I depend and rely on my closest associates to weather the storm of Odonfield.”

The Wizard Queen's eyes glanced to Eirwen, holding his gaze unflinchingly. “I hope I can continue to rely on you, as I always have, Lord Blackthorne. Remember I raised you up and preferred you over many others.”

---

The Hands of Iron Hideout

@twannyman

---

The princess froze with her hand on the door, only now noticing the crossbows leveled at her and her company. Reflexively, her six guards had their hands on their swords, prepared to unsheath them at a moment's notice.

"And how can we be so sure you are who you say you are?!"

A crossbow guard

Azalea stepped back a bit, hands raising in surrender as her face blanched. “I… I have a letter from my mother addressed to the captain. It mentions I would be delivering the message. Please, we mean you no harm!”

"Well princess you are fearless just to open this gate with only a handful of guards aren't you?"

Roderic

Relaxing a bit at the sight of the captain, Azalea turned her face away, crossing her arms in a huff. “We'd be fine. My guards are very capable.”

"So what brings you to my cosy little camp Princess?"

Roderic

She pursed her lips, feeling a little flustered under the gaze of the captain. Slowly, aware that crossbows were still aimed at her and her company, she reached into the folds of her robes and pulled out a rolled bit of parchment. It had the seal of the Wizard Queen upon it. With caution, the little princess held it up to the captain to inspect.

“This is from my mother. She requests your help for a job requiring a… personal touch. It's of the utmost importance, and you would be handsomely compensated.”

Within the letter were the contents of a mission outlined by the Wizard Queen, how she needed to “turn Tarin back to the light of the All-Force,” and needed their help to accomplish this.

The actual details of what was being requested, however, were omitted, left to be spoken by mouth by the princess. Less evidence that way, her mother said.

Princess Keove smiled sweetly up at the captain, her sheepish discomfort over the crossbows evident on her face. “Would you welcome us into your home, good captain, so we can discuss the details?”

---

Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

@Click This

---

After finishing her poignant whispers with her court mage, her head tilted up to the newcomer at the gala. Immediately, the Wizard Queen's eyes fluttered.

“She's a necessary piece to my puzzle, to my grand design. Necessary, if not of the utmost importance.” She thought, gazing at the Duchess of Caelin and her plus one as they approached the throne.

As Vulluin accepted the gift and presented it to the Queen, her mind continued to machinate. “My dear Safina has singled out Duchess Agustria for a reason. We have sacrificed to keep them happy. As long as trade between us flourishes, and they are unimpeded, all should go according to plan…”

Her gaze lowered to the Caelin whiskey in her hands, and she held it up to the light, appreciating the deep color of the liquor. A well-practiced smile spread across the Wizard Queen's face.

“Duchess of Caelin, you spoil me. These gifts are truly a delight.”

She placed the whisky back into its velveted section, and gave a nod to Vulluin. Vulluin nodded back, and placed the gift on a nearby table, right beside the cigars.

“I may have to put an order in for more of these, if you'd be willing to part with such fine products.” She said, gesturing to the table.

The Wizard Queen sipped on her wine, staring at the duchess over the rim, before she leaned forward a bit.

“The night is ours to enjoy, Duchess Agustria. But perhaps you'd humour me.” A glance at Vulluin, before she continued. “You see, I plan on making an expedition in the very near future. I would like your blessing to cross by Caelin, maybe stop with our boats in Grand Bank to stock up on supplies, before we continue to Athius.”

Her smile was light, head tilting slightly, “We can discuss it further in the next coming weeks, yes?”

---

Odonfield, Duke of Rhinecliff's Estate

@Click This

---

“Oh, Viscount Skybound. What brings you to this part of the province, on this day?”

Duchess Agustria

Adrenaline spiked in Mene's tiny body as he spied the Duchess of Caelin herself inside one of the rooms. Inside, he internally screamed. The Duchess? Here? Now?!

He considered playing it dumb, playing it cool, and talking with her. Maybe she could help him find the treasury.

Before he hurriedly shook his head. No, she was a close, close friend to the Duke of Rhinecliff. There was no way she'd compromise his security, even if Mene was just a child.

And he'd been spotted, and recognized, no less. The Queen was going to kill him! What was the point of wearing an obscuring cloak if he was going to be this easily identified?

Mene gritted his teeth as he stood there at the doorway, seconds ticking by agonizing slow. His hand gripped the handle of the door, hovering in between entering and cutting his losses.

But he had to remember that she was also a duchess, and he was a viscount. She could have him beheaded if she found enough fault with him. And running? Now? That would only make him look like more of a criminal.

Sweating a bit, Mene took painful movements to open the door a little more, and bow low to the duchess.

“Y-your Grace, I wasn't expecting you there. Please forgive my intrusion.”

He stood, trying to smile despite his flushed face. “I appear to have lost my way, I am trying to make my way back to His Grace's treasury room, I'm helping with his books.”

His ring glinted, activating once again to give him a better chance the duchess would act more favourably towards him.

---

Tarin, Duke of Corrin’s Estate

@Theyra

---

"Hello, Advisor Urimyar. If you are looking for my brother, then he is preoccupied at the moment. I am here if this matter does not concern him."

Roland

Vulluin's eyes narrowed slightly at the knights entrance. No bow, and addressed him as his title instead of a more formal and succinct ‘my lord’. After all, Roland was a knight, and not the Duke like his brother was. Vulluin chalked it up to the vapors, feeling ill, and perhaps still in grief, as his sources said. So, Vulluin ignored the minor infraction, and instead gestured to his servants.

The servants nodded with a slight bow and passed over their gifts to Roland's servant, before taking their leave and waiting outside.

Vulluin watched the exchange with guarded eyes, before he sipped some of the tea brought before them. Light, floral, and reminded him of home - did they know he would like this type of tea?

”So, advisor, what brings you to Tarin at this hour?”

Roland

“I first wanted to offer my condolences on the Queen's behalf. I understand things are still hard for your family, despite the passage of time. The Queen wanted me to let you know her doors are always open to you and your family.” Vulluin started, eyes cool and level as she stared at Roland across the table.

“I also wanted to make mention that the Queen is, unfortunately, running out of options with His Grace, your brother. His Grace failed to show up to the previous gala, and is late on his taxes. We were holding put, hoping he would attend the Hearthfire Gala today, but alas, my Queen's heart is crushed.” Vulluin said, watching Roland very closely.

Another sip of tea, letting his words hang in the space before he spoke up again.

“However, there is a lifeline the Queen is offering to House Corrin. It involved you, Sir Roland.” Vulluin said, a seriousness in his eyes.

“Her Majesty is willing to forgive the late taxes and lack of fealty if His Grace the duke promises to resume attending galas and keeping his account straight from today and forward. And…” He leaned forward. “If you, Sir Roland, submit yourself to being a royal guard once more. Her Majesty has heard of your skills, and wants you in service to her. You would start in four days, the amount of time it takes to travel by carriage starting tomorrow from Tarin to Hathforth.”

---

Hathforth, The College of Hathforth, Headmaster's Office

@Izurich

---

"Understood, take care, professor."

Mèlisande

”Take care, my dear.” Caveus said, watching his student leave out the door.

In the quiet Mèlisande left behind, the headmaster could only sit and ponder in thought, if the path he had set upon his young pupil was the right thing to do, or simply something unavoidable from a coward's perspective.

The headmaster sighed, and wrote a short correspondence to be sent to the castle. He had to let them know they'd have one more mage in attendance there.

It was soon that there was a gentle knock at Mèlisande's dorm. A carriage driver dressed in a uniform to denote his service to the crown stood there, stiff and upright.

“Ma'am, I received word you wish to travel to the castle. I've been sent here to escort you and make your-” His gaze wandered down, catching her gaze, before he became flustered and resumed to look straight ahead. “-t-travel easy.”

He huffed a bit under his collar, tugging it slightly, before he gestured to the street. A gilded carriage with two white horses awaited Mèlisande.

“I can carry any bags you may have, and we can be on our way. You will be staying for a few days to get yourself acquainted with the castle, but I've been made aware you'll be free to come and go as you please. During daylight hours, of course.”

---

Odonfield, Duke of Rhinecliff's Estate

@ERode

---

“...Might I invite you to the courtyard for a meal and an opportunity to stretch your legs before then?”

Duke Rhinecliff

“Your Grace is very kind; I wouldn't want to impose on your good graces. But if you would entertain me, it would be a pleasure to rest before my travel back.” Asteria smiled, starting to relax. The good duke was making it too easy to stall for time. Now her brother would have enough time to locate the treasury room.

"Ah, and has your brother come along? I've thought the two of you as inseparable, but perhaps even twins have sibling spats on occasion."

Duke Rhinecliff

The momentary sense of peace Asteria felt was shattered in an instant, and she kept the worst of the shock off her face, furiously sipping on her tea instead. He was asking about her brother! What was she suppose to say?

Draining her cup to allow herself precious seconds to think, Asteria pulled the china away and smiled sweetly. “Sibling spats, of course. Yes. My brother and I got into a terrible, terrible fight. That's why I came to you by myself today. Just the thought of spending two days in a carriage with him makes my head spin, Your Grace.”

---

Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

@Irradiant

---

Vulluin stared for a moment as Duchess Bastille approached the throne, before he stiffened, eyes flaring up in cool rage.

“You will bow before addressing Her Majesty the Quee-”

The Wizard Queen raised a hand, causing Vulluin to fall silent, silently seething. The Queen herself, however, had an amused look to her face. She smiled as she regarded the duchess in all her raiment and glory.

“A gift is most generous of you, Duchess Bastille. Let us see it.”

Thr Wizard Queen watched as the art piece glinted in the duchess’ hands.

"Though I suppose I cannot assume full credit. I also have Rockhold to thank for providing us with the requisite metals. You can consider this blade a gift from them as well.”

Duchess Bastille

The Wizard Queen saw that ‘different’ smile right away. She wished desperately Safina were here, instead of ‘interrogating’ Duke Rhineclliff. Safina would have an angle on this that would help the Wizard Queen get deeper in the duchess’ head.

Alas, she only had her advisor and her court mage to rely on in this instant. However, Vulluin didn't need to whisper in the Wizard Queen's ear for her to know what to say next, to stick a small knife in between the ribs of the duchess.

“Did you know, dear duchess…” Her tone was soft, almost melodic, “That dwarves are more susceptible to magic and darkness?”

More susceptible to me.

The Wizard Queen pretended to shrug this off, her own smile matching the duchess’ exactly. “Alas, their physical strength leaves their defenses leaving something to be desired.”

Vulluin, his face a stony mask, held his hands out for the art piece in the duchess’ hands, “I would be happy to accept this wondrous gift. Her Grace the Duchess has surpassed herself.”

[Psyker Landshark]

Lady Safina Haliel

Safina allowed herself a very visible roll of her eyes as the duke practically fled the room. Typical. Were it not completely against her cover as just a lady-in-waiting, a slight application of force could have held him there longer. Still, at least it told her that he had absolutely no intention to pay what he owed. The man wasn't unintelligent; he had to have known this would be a red flag. Just up and leaving when a representative of the Queen questioned him was actionable.

There were other ways to find out what he was up to. A snap of her fingers had the pair of guards outside the office step in, closing the door shut behind them as Safina silenced the room with a Muffle spell.

"My lady." They saluted. "Orders?"

"Whitley, I want eyes on Duke Rhinecliff for as long as he remains in Hathforth. Jensen, return to the barracks. Inform Adrienna and Grugin that they're to join Whitley in establishing surveillance on the Duke. Then send a runner to the Odonfield cell. Accelerate the infiltration timeline. We need eyes and ears in his castle's staff by the time he returns home."

"By your command, Grandmaster." The two Concord members in disguise as castle guards promptly about-faced and left to fulfill their orders, the Muffle spell ending shortly after. With that out of the way, Safina took a moment to take a breath and compose herself from the sharp-gazed Grandmaster she was to the socialite and lady-in-waiting she pretended to be.

She returned to the throne room shortly after, quietly watching the proceedings until there was an opportunity to step in. Once Duchess Bastille's gift was accepted, and wasn't that another one that needed watching, Safina quickly stepped towards Vulluin. Protocol dictated that she relay this through him first, and it would cause less alarm either way.

"Inform the queen, quietly, that Duke Rhinecliff is welching on any conversation regarding his taxes. I'll be having him followed, but for now, there's no need to make a scene until we have more actionable intelligence." While any monarch would be well within their rights at this point to make a move against a delinquent subordinate, going after a powerful noble over taxes was asking for unrest. No, best to have further proof of misdeeds to make the case ironclad before proceeding further.

@Estylwen @Donut Look Now

[Izurich]

--College of Hathforth - Dormitory--

Soon after entering her dorm room, the Lilim Chronomancer concentrated inward, arcane essence flowing through her veins as she cast a spell with nary a single sound; no incantation, no elaborate hand movements, and not even a finger snap. A showcase of her unique casting method, one aptly named 'silent spells'. Her fae blood was so attuned to the mystical, for Melisande, casting a spell was more similar to willing a body part to move rather than exerting control over mana.

Immediately, chronomantic magic surged through her, the Swift spell allowing the coven princess to move with the agility of a nimble Halfling as she began packing up her belongings. Thus, she was assuredly ready by the time the royal chauffeur arrived. She turned to face him, her luggage in tow.

The coachman was performing his duty like clockwork, at least until their eyes locked, subjecting him to the "Nymph's Charm", bewitching his mind without Melisande even lifting a finger, the legacy that all Lilim must bear as consequence to being descended from the mischievously seductive Nymphs. Some saw it as a blessing, others as a curse, Melisande was quite firmly in the latter.

A silent sigh left her lips, only a deaf and blind person would miss his not-so-subtle flustered stutters and skittish fidgets. Had she wanted to bed him, half of the work was already done, simply by making eye contact. However, she'd then have to deal with yet another green-eyed lover. By the All-Force, why couldn't her people be descended from something regal and majestic like dragons? At least then, the fascination would be rooted in awe, not lust.

In response, Melisande fixed her beige cloak then pulled up its hood, partially concealing her face. "My gratitude, good sir, and duly noted." She replied professionally as she walked over to him, then handed over the handle of her luggage. Afterwards, she passed him to head into the carriage proper, but as she did...

"I must tell you that there are maidens comelier than me at the Tearmoon coven, and they'd love to get to know a handsome fellow such as yourself, sir." The Lilim whispered nonchalantly before continuing on her way, embarking the horse-drawn vehicle. Inside, she sat down, sighing - more audibly this time - with her eyes closed.

You don't even believe a single word you said, did you?

Correct, I'm not so ignorant to not be able to see that even amongst my kind, Mother is considered to be exceptionally pulchritudinous, and I inherited her visage, the conclusion is obvious.

So you purposefully deceived him.

I did.

Humor me, why?

For the very same reason why you demanded me to keep your existence a secret.

Heh. Well played, Faeling.

@Estylwen

[LunarParadox]

Court Mage and Advisor Eirwen Blackthorne
Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

@Estylwen

The court mage gave a slight bow at the Queen's request to meet her later in the study. "As you wish, your Majesty. Until then, may your evening be bright and full of delights."

He's up to something.

His gaze shifted subtly towards the duke. Yes, he supposed Rhinecliff was likely up to something, but no action could be taken while the specifics remained in mystery. Patience was a virtue, and to his benefit Eirwen had developed the virtue well.

I hope I can continue to rely on you.

His Seed failed to hold back a single wave of fear at that statement, though as always his face remained impassive. Does she suspect something? He'd have to ensure her confidence in him remained firm. "Of course, my Queen. I remember well that I owe all I have to your grace," he replied smoothly. "Anyone foolish enough to plot against you will quickly learn the folly of their ways."

As more guests approached the Queen, he took this as his cue to blend into the background once more. He would be close should she need him again, but until then he fully intended to lose himself in the sweet taste of wine.

[Donut Look Now]

---

---

Nyx Heir the Wanderer

Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala

_{Skills: Shift
@Irradiant@Click This}

---

---

Nyx drags a finger under the royal blue cravat she wears. She knew it would be hellish to play as the duke. Even with his shorter stature, Duke Rhinecliff commands a room easily with his presence. Nyx preferred to blend in with the shadows. She briefly debates shifting into someone else, but having evaded discussing the duke’s ledger with Lady Safina, she knew it would draw more attention to the duke if he disappeared from the gala.

Taking a deep breath, she re-enters the throne room and puts an easy smile on her face as she politely nods to the other members of the court present. She just about signs in relief when she sees both Duchess Agustria and Duchess Bastille are already talking in the same group of people.

Nyx attempts to keep a casual demeanor as she walks over to the two duchesses. She gives each of them a small bow of her head before kissing their hands. “Duchess Agustria. Duchess Bastille.” She addresses the duchesses before acknowledging the others in the small group in order of status, waiting for them to greet her first. “How lovely both of you look tonight.”