Thayr
Asuras
AtomicEmperor
Kronshi
OwO
Snowdrops
Irradiant
Sky Blue
Ivar
Audacious
Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala
@Psyker Landshark, @Irradiant, @Donut Look Now, @Click This, @Izurich, @LunarParadox
Vulluin kept the disgust off his face, masking it behind a thin smile as Lady Haliel whispered in his ear.
”Utinu en lokirim… (That son of a snake…)” Vulluin muttered under his breath, slipping into his ancestral language briefly.
He gave a gracious nod of his head. ”As always you outdo yourself, Lady Haliel. I'll inform her right away.”
His eyes hovered on her purple irises, before he took a gentle step to the side, and whispered in the Queen's ear. A pause, before the Wizard Queen's smile widened.
“Thank you, Vulluin.” She said, giving her wine an idle swirl, before glancing at one of the guards stationed along the wall, and gave a nod.
Moments later, the music died down as a new melody floated over the crowd from the back of the hall. Nobles looked left and right, trying to find the source of the curious tune. Until finally, they looked up.
Walking along the vaulted ceiling of the hall was a jester. Red and blue ribbons in her hair. Face painted in white with black and red. Her robes delicately floating, adorned in a variety of eye-catching colors and patterns. And in her slender fingers, a metal flute. An instrument unseen in all of Arrowfell.
She slowly walked down from the ceiling to the floor, her fingers gracing her flute in intricate melody. She curtsied deep in front of the Queen, before her attention turned to Lady Haliel. Pulling her flute to the side, she lifted up a single pearl necklace out of the many hanging off her arm, and wreathed it gently around Lady Haliel's neck. She leaned in close, almost embracing the elf, as she whispered.
“I Tári merë quetëa ólë mi cormatarya mi lómelindale. (The Queen wishes to speak with you in her bedchambers at the strike of midnight.)”
Before she leaned back, smiled, and turned around, spreading her arms out to the crowd. From her loose sleeves, hundreds of blue spectral butterflies burst forward, taking to the air. The hall was immediately struck with awes and enchanted faces as some nobles even had the pleasure of butterflies landing on their fingers or noses.
The court jester smiled knowingly, before her gaze shifted. The Duke of Rhinecliff had made their way back into the hall, and she found herself approaching his side and bowing.
“Your Graces,” She said songfully, addressing the Duke of Rhinecliff, the Duchess of Caelin, and the Duchess of Bastille. Before she conjured a small bird cage in her hands. She opened the door, and out came a small, spectral song bird, sitting joyfully on Duke Rhinecliff's hand.
“Please watch over this one for me, won't you?” She said sweetly, offering each duke and duchess a pearl necklace with a smile, before she bowed and retreated, off to frolic with the rest of the crowd.
As the court jester made merry with the nobles, music from the bards resumed, floating up through the air.
It was a few minutes of pleasant banter passing that the doors to the hall opened once more. A carriage driver, holding the luggage of none other than the Court Mage's new apprentice, Mèlisande, appeared at the door, the young mage beside him. It had been a rather quiet carriage ride to the castle, the young man seeming flustered all the while.
Now, at the end if his journey with her, he leaned down and said in a low, unsteady tone. “If it please you, I'd much rather wed in the confines of my home town. Traveling outside, or having anything to do with that traveler-snatching river, puts a quake in my boots, yes.”
But he smiled. “You've been most kind, ma'am. I hope I have fulfilled my purpose to you.” His gaze went flush for a moment, and he stammered. “And, uh, if you need further carriage rides, I'm always o-of service.”
Then he hurriedly waved a servant over, passed along Mèlisande's luggage, and quickly departed. The servant, easily hefting Mèlisande's bags, pointed through the crowd to the throne.
“Her Majesty the Queen, and the Court Mage, Lord Blackthorne, are waiting for you. Will you greet them?”
It was another few minutes before the great doors opened once more, and in walked three well-known faces, here to pay their fealty.
The first was Duchess Nephinae Ilijor, dressed in delicate white silks laced with spider-thin chains. The second was Duke Dadraek Grimhand, a heavyset dwarf laden in gold and other precious metals, a hand stroking his white beard. And lastly, there was Duke Sev Willowsteel, wearing unpolished armour with a cape, and making it straight for the food and drink.
Nephinae and Dadraek, however, did the more civilized thing, and made their way to the throne.
Nephinae approached first, bowing low to the Queen. “Nai lyenna Isil illumë ná cóna, Táriya. (May your moon always be full, my Queen.)”
She presented her gift to the Wizard Queen, a circlet of precious metal interwoven to appear as if it were a branch with leaves, precious stones taking the place of flower buds.
“This is a most precious gift, Duchess. Thank you.” The Wizard Queen said graciously.
Nephinae nodded gracefully, before she turned to Vulluin and Eirwen. “I have gifts for your advisors as well.”
She approached Eirwen with a smile, “I've given this gift in the hopes you'll come visit me in Aethera one day, Lord Blackthone.” And she presented a small silver pendant, a gem glowing at the center.
“It's a curious enchantment.” She said, “It illuminates the area around you in a range of two feet, in the direction of what you desire most.”
She gave the same pendant to Vulluin, bowed once more, and stepped back.
Dadreak presented his gift, a large silver vase engraved with carvings of mountains and rivers, bowed low to the Queen, before he retreated slightly, and found Duchess Bastille.
“My, my, what a small world it is, indeed.” Dadreak mused as he bowed to the group. “Duchess Bastille, I hope Her Majesty found our joint gift suitable?”
Tarin, Duke of Corrin's Estate
@Theyra
Vulluin nodded. “Yes, the condolence gifts are a part of it. The flowers will live for months, the pearl necklaces a fitting gift for the duke's wife, and Gold-touch Wine to aid in sleep.”
What Vulluin withheld was that the gifts and condolences were only an in for him, a way to try and soften the heart of the Duke and his brother. The Wizard Queen was tactful, but didn't care much for the destruction left in her wake as she seized a dream.
"For my brother's actions, I cannot speak for him on why he has not been paying taxes lately and not attending the latest gala. But I can talk to him about it since it pains the queen so much.”
Vulluin gave the guise of an understanding face as he sipped his tea. “Please, it's imperative that you speak to him. I wouldn't want to see the situation escalate.”
“Why would the queen want someone who failed to protect their monarch? I mean, he is dead, and I am alive when it should be the reverse. So I am not quite sure if the queen deserves a failed royal guard."
Vulluin only smiled. “Because you fell at her hand. She knew no one would be a match for her that day, but even the Queen gets tired of being vigilant. You know how treacherous orrowfell is at the moment, with whispers of uprising on the tongues of Odonfielders.”
His slender face grew serious. “This is why she's calling upon you, Sir Corrin, and you specifically. You are a powerful mage, and you know how to handle a sword. That is what the Wizard Queen needs, and she wants to rely on you as her personal guard. Will you accept?”
The Hands of Iron Hideout
@twannyman
"Can I offer you something to drink?"
The princess patted down her chair as she sat in it, admiring the make. At the mention of drinks, she smiled excitedly. “I'll have tea, if it's not too much trouble.”
Her guards stood at attention, four at the walls of the tent, two outside. Princess Azalea didn't pay them too much mind; they were just doing their job of keeping her safe.
Instead, she turned her attention to the good captain. “My mother worries for the future of Arrowfell. There are those that dream of plunging it back to the warring states it used to be. House Corrin is one of those people.”
She leaned forward on her seat, hands clasped delicately in front of her.
“She understand you're one of those speciality mercenaries, where you can get things done, and know how to approach any given task. If you were to take on this task, not only would you be doing my mother a service, but you'd be doing a service to Arrowfell.”
Her head tilted. “In regards to reward, my mother said you can make any reasonable demand, and she will meet it.”
She took a breath, glancing at her guards briefly before her gaze returned to Roderic. “...She needs you to kidnap the wife of the Duke of Vaili.”
Before the good captain could give a yea or nay, she nodded at her guards. The four standing in the room stepped forward with small daggers. They cut loose heavy coin purses from their hips, the four bags making a heavy clunk as they landed at Roderic's feet.
“This is just a fraction of your reward, if you choose to accept Her Majesty's task.”
