Epsir

When the Flames Die

Where was Karl Leid located? That was a question she would have killed for the answer to, but any professional bodyguard wouldn't have let their client simply walk away so easily. "Right now, he should be in the company of my partner and on his way here." She didn't want to lie to the man, and honestly didn't sound very sold on the answer herself, but it was the closest thing to the truth. "He's late." She crossed her arms after the admission, instinctively looking towards the palace for where either of them should have been emerging. She frowned and turned back to Thomas, realizing she was being looked at. His question gave her pause, it wasn't exactly one she'd been expecting but in retrospect the question of her heritage had already been raised that day. "I don't mind, actually. I was born a little bit north of here, actually. In the countryside, but I grew up on the east coast. This is the first time I've been back to the west since I was a little girl. Keilaudrin has grown since then, so I suppose the people must be doing well." She stopped, staring down into the waters. "Are they? Do you like living here?"

When the Flames Die

"I imagine most people have not. I don't do much to put myself in the public eye. But yes, acting guard to Karl Leid. Thankless work, but essential," She answered evenly, running down the list of facts for Thomas. The idea of a foreign bodyguard was likely familiar but disliked by the local guard, so she had settled on giving on the man quick, honest answers to keep any untoward interest well away from her. Saying that she was protecting Karl Leid was a wake-up call to the woman however. She'd just about given up on him save for her token efforts to monitor the party. This late in the game, her job was changing hour to hour and pretty quickly it would be solely finding out where her partner had gone. It wasn't as though he was hard to spot, she doubted that she'd simply missed him walking out of the palace. Thomas' question pulled her attention back to him, and she looked over to the knight to return his smirk. "I stopped enjoying these stuffy parties when I had to start learning the politics behind each of them."

When the Flames Die

What a familiar answer he had given. Lexine could sympathize with Thomas' sentiment, currently worrying about three separate missing persons although she figured she cared less for Bard II than the knight did. "They're quite right to want someone looking after them. Keeps me employed, I suppose," she commented, a dry voiced reflection on an occupation she honestly only had a dubious familiarity with. For the second time that day he asked her name, and she remembered that in fact her first greeting had been interrupted. "Lexine Tristan," she said shortly, quick to continue afterwards. "And your name is?" Of course, she knew of Sir Thomas, but opted to return the formality out of respect. She'd done her homework like any true bodyguard, and hadn't intended to let Karl Leid walk into a court she wasn't very familiar with. Well, Karl Leid had been more familiar, it turned out, because they couldn't find him in the actual court's building.

When the Flames Die

The arrival of a band prompted an agitated sigh from Lexine. They weren't bad by any stretch of the imagination but the last thing she wanted was a gaggle of loud musicians to stand next to her for the next few hours. She ventured away from them gradually, shifting away from the noise and towards the quiet, unpopulated stretch of ground before the drop off. Unpopulated was incorrect, she could recognize the knight from earlier minus his armor standing at the edge, ships and water beyond him. The view was pleasant, but for the moment she was more concerned with watching the party. That task was rapidly becoming impossible as more of them took to dancing and disappeared in the rapidly developing human tangle. Knowing but not yet accepting that it was a futile effort, she turned away to watch the horizon. Even she couldn't bear standing in silence at the cliff face though, and soon enough spoke up to the man beside her, although aware he'd shown a tendency to walk off. "Not enjoying the party tonight?" She asked, a touch curious as to what one of the king's guards was doing standing with his sword nowhere near the feast.

When the Flames Die

The edge of the feast grounds made a sufficient, if not conspicuous, observation point. The crown had truly outdone themselves with the preparations, and from a distance she could appreciate both the layout of the party and the wonderful view of the harbor. Most of the rest of the party-goers wanted to stick to where the feast actually was, and that was fine for both of them. The time where she would have reprimanded herself for failing to enjoy the party had passed. Lexine was alert, standing rigid and uncomfortable as she made slow, sweeping scans of the area looking for any number of familiar faces. There were a handful turning up, and she was slowly realizing that most people had brought out considerably nicer clothing for the occasion. The thought lead her to look down, considering the outfit her and her partner both wore. Black trousers, white shirt, fourteen sets for each of them all cleaned, pressed, and boxed in a tavern room. Maybe it was a little plain. She shook her head, going back to her watch. It was true, they were early, but it was disconcerting nonetheless that neither her partner, Karl Leid, or even Bard Urien II had shown up to the party yet. Determined to patience, she continued to watch and wait for the right time.

When the Flames Die

Awesome, I'll be happy to answer any questions you have.

When the Flames Die

Ordinarily, she would have demanded identification, but Tatchet was happy enough to see that she'd found somebody sort of like the person she was looking for. An armor clad post clerk was an oddity, but you didn't see many woman knights either so she supposed her guessing had been far off before too. The country had been strange to begin with. Rationale or the authoritative aura of the other woman, Feril had had enough for the day, and decided to relinquish the parcel. "... Thank you for your help," she said, feeling something close to uncertainty. She placed the letter atop the small box and handed them off into Payton's outstretched hand, looking disdainfully at her own fingers after the fact. A red smudge had spread across the fingertips, presumably from the bottom of the box. "Good luck with that, I get the strange feeling it just cost me my jacket." Feril said, now set on spending the rest of the night celebrating whatever this town was in high spirits over. Whatever had just occurred, she was going to be quick in putting it out of her mind. The sender had stated old business between friends, which usually meant it'd be fine if it got lost along the way. It was probably just a prank anyway, soaking like that.

When the Flames Die

Internally, she bristled with the immediate realization that her conversational partner was something less than willing. It didn't show on the messenger's face, though she strained a bit to keep her smile. "Well, I'm Feril Tatchet," The least she could do was remember her manners. She rummaged through the insides of her jacket for a moment, producing a small box and an affixed letter sealed with the blue roundel of the Arcarti state military. What Feril didn't know or notice and what a more cautious observer might was that the state used paper seals and their own messengers. "I was hoping a knight such as yourself would be able to show me where the postmaster in this palace is. I would just deliver this directly but there's no name on it, and he's got the ledger..." She'd of course tried the man's residence, but there was clearly a celebration going on and she figured, as her attention began to slowly drift away from Payton and over to the crowd flocking from the stands to the castle proper, either possible destination was currently at the party.

When the Flames Die

The battle on the runway dragged on for quite some time as the others in the stands watched. One opponent, light and airy enough to drift around his more heavily clad counterpart's blows, the other, trained and calculating to compensate for the armor he was loathe to fight in. Few significant blows landed, and it became apparent after a time that the match had become more complicated than simply speed versus armor. Instead, a tense test of stamina and planning unfolded on the field. As time went on, the senior fighter began to overcome his initial disadvantage, and there could be only one winner. Before Thomas' growing offensive could become decisive, however, Hadryn was declared defeated. A strange move that drew surprise and disdain from the crowd, but official nonetheless. It was doubtful that any party involved considered true sport done. Trumpets were sounded for the nth time that day, signifying the end of combat, and both parties were allowed to leave the field, either to seek care for whatever wounds they sustained or to rest for what came next. The announcer promised that the melee would resume, but not much else before he and several others began to converse around the king. The sun had dipped considerably and while broad daylight was still with them, there seemed to be some concern among those in the royal stand about whether or not the tournament would require a second day, with the melee still going strong, a whole bracket of the jousting undone, and the entire archery portion not yet started. Bard II in particular seemed troubled by the discussion, obvious to anyone watching the central stands. Though few within his court could even guess the issue it was truthfully because splitting the tournament would mean a longer night feast, and surely more time in the spotlight. Exactly what the royal did not want while he was still unprepared.

---

The woman didn't quite care for the man's offer. The time for errand boys was long past and the most important thing in this phase was ascertaining where the others' interests were. Jezin seemed quite happy to put everything about his mission on the table, which was fitting for a guard but exceedingly convenient. She did, however, recognize the look he was now giving to the stands, and felt it would have been fair to be just as open with him. Unfortunately, she'd just been on a rant about trust and she wasn't so far gone as to think that him know she couldn't be trusted was a way of building trust. At any rate, they both didn't want to see a foreign noble die while conducting diplomacy. Their goals and reasons may conflict, but why spoil it? "Keep her safe, then. Farewell for now." She said, her low voice barely distinct against the rising din of the crowd, who now no longer had a battle to distract them. The blue-tie disappeared off into the crowd, occasionally becoming visible among the people as she made her way towards the palace where her partner had yet to emerge from.

---

Something had just concluded, if the trumpets were any indication, but she hadn't had a clue what was going on in the country since she'd arrived in it a few days ago. The reason being she hadn't stopped riding since she hit the border. The poor horse had practically been ran down, a terrible tragedy considering how sparse the damn things were, but it was now stabled outside of the palace. The builders at the entrance had been particularly short with her, and like some plebeian messenger she was hunting down anybody who looked like an authority figure. The stands and tent city seemed to imply a tournament, but from what she saw the runway was cleared. Standing apart from the mess, a woman in full armor. A knight! Somebody from the court would surely know what was going on. But also probably a noble! The woman stopped in her tracks, straightening the bright red riding jacket she wore and flicking the trail dust off of the patch sewn over its left breast, the winged bugle of Sharpe & Millsworth's Courier Co. As she approached Payton, she cleared her throat nervously and spoke in her best affected polite tone. "Excuse me milady, do you have a moment?"

When the Flames Die

Well, all I can really ask is communication, so I'm happy that you said something. Maybe talk to Sightles and work it out between the two of you how you both want this concluded. I.E. we timeskip or something else.