@ShadowKingman@PKMNB0Y
"We shall talk on a better opportunity. For the time being, I shall reunite with my Master. You are welcome to join us if you and your Master so do wish. Otherwise, I bid you farewell."Sinfjotli watched the maiden leave with mixed admiration and vexation. Who was she to spurn him so quickly? Did she expect him to trail around at her heels?! But at the same time, what a woman! She had drained the offered cup in a single draught and announced her titles with the casual air of a queen. Princess of Arcadia! Huntress of Artemis! No doubt she was the chosen shieldmaiden of some savage goddess of a faraway people.
Watching her stalk away, her long golden hair trailing out behind her, Berserker was suddenly stricken by the thought of another maiden. His accursed brother had won the love of the valkyrie Brynhildr, another champion shieldmaiden of the gods. Would it not be fitting if...
He poured himself a drink, half formed plans swirling in his brain, and downed the drink in one go as well. A moment later he wished he hadn't. Blinking he looked at the bottle he had been pouring from and realized that this was wine. Ordinarily it would have been a delicacy to savor, but the knowledge imparted to him by his summoning informed him that wine was quite common these days. Shrugging he poured himself another cup and turned to locate his Master.
The girl was trailing not too far behind him, and he shoved the wine cup towards her while resting a mailed palm on her shoulder. He remembered vaguely that it would be considered impolite to offer someone a drink from something you had just drunk from, but it struck him as a silly custom, something his Master would undoubtedly be relieved to do away with.
"Amedea! Drink. Wine is cheap these days, but it's nothing that should get in the way of formalities."He turned and clapped eyes on the golden haired youth he had lost sight of when he had gone to talk to the cat eared huntress. He blinked. At some point when his back had been turned the large man had moved over, ripped an entire leg off the boar that the huntress had been eating from, and returned to his spot by the now devoured rack of lamb.
Sinfjotli smiled grimly and shot him a steady look from across the room. Not hostile per say, almost friendly even, but unmistakable in its challenge.
"That is the other great champion in this room, mark my words. I will have to outdo him in something tonight, either drinking or wrestling or, if it comes to it, dueling. I recomend you find your mark in this room, one of the other masters and do the same before they establish their place in this raid without you. Whatever it is you seidr users do to compete with one another."
@Flamelord @GreenGoat @Lonewolf685
Walgrave leaned against the wall, gazing at the seemingly countless Servants and Magi that were gathering in this place from the low angle of his insect familiars. It was a captivating perspective seeing them all through multiple compound eyes. Or, it would have been if he had not been interrupted just then by a strident "A-HEM."
He opened his eyes, ready to express his anger at the interruption when he suddenly realized who had addressed him. Zelretch was looking right at him, seeming none to pleased.
"I recommend that you recall those roaches; as you may already know, this facility is spotless due to the insistence of the staff who maintain it. Roaches are not only thoroughly out of place as a result, but the fact that you are sending them off to a feast of food is a mistake in and of itself. Why not join them for a meal? Or would you rather remain here instead?"
Walgrave fumbled for a reply but before he could make one the Wizard Marshal had already departed, making for the dining area with the easy stride of a younger man. Watching him sent waves of bitter envy racing through his veins, but it was mixed with too much fear for him to disregard the Sorcerers orders.
Quietly he recalled his scuttling minions and began to make his slow painful way into the dining room. It seemed that the Marshal did not want him prying into the affairs of others, which in turn made him even more suspicious. What was he playing at here? This was an obvious attempt to curtail his use of familiars, after all, what would a vampire care about a few bugs? No, there was clearly something darker at work here, something hidden...
Walgrave was half way into the dining room when the telepathic voice of his Servant came to him.
'
My Lord, I have made contact with one of the Assassin's Masters as you requested. He is willing to treat with you, and is currently headed to the cafeteria. I have joined him for the moment.'
Walgraves voice, feeble and dry in the flesh was an entirely difrent thing when broadcasted telepathically. It was steady, cold and cliped, nearly impatient.
'Continue to accompany him, or pursue whatever reconnaissance you deem appropriate. I will join you shortly.'Finally arriving at the banquet hall sans roach Walgrave stared at the gathering party impassively. The sight of food did nothing for him, his sense of taste and much of his ability to smell had been long ago destroyed in the process of drinking his pungent elixir. Such were the sacrifices necessary to prolong his existence. He regretted none of them.
Working his way carefully around the edges of the hall he singled out his Servant standing beside a pair of well dressed figures. One of the older Magi in a well fitted three piece green suit, along with what looked to be an even better dressed British gentleman of
modern er, victorian era garb.
Gradually he made his way over to the trio and gave a faint bow to the two of them, tipping his hat. Dust drifted down from where he had removed it, the harsh smell of chemicals and crude oil wafting off him as he did so.
"I am... Walgrave. You are interested in, ahhhhh... entertaining my offer?" 