The Heartlands
PreludeLalaifia, 13th of Gerna | 1200 AULocation: Estate in Lalrial
Among the countryside adjacent to the gleaming city of Lalrial, many wide and open estates held miles of land. Vineyards that soaked in the salty ocean breeze from the far south dominated next to powder white herds of sheep, or muscular bovine. The sun was gentle here, only kissing the crops with the perfect amount of heat and light, without damning the tanned workers of the field to torment. The cool breezes chilled any labored bones and delighted any guests.
On one such Estate, generously rented out by Grevis Valarien to his cousin Allianna, the pre-summit party was beginning to come into clarity. Funded by all the contenders, yet sorted and devised by Allianna herself, the villa of the estate was teeming with the finest party decor.
The pillars of the portico were entwined in green vines bearing reddish grapes, and in turn thin strings of gold twisted across the plant. The very peristylium styled courtyard that the portico enveloped boasted lively trees, and a misting fountain. The cool sea air gave way to the sweet scent of freshly crushed berries, and the soft vinegar of poured wine. Allianna herself dressed in the green of the flowered peristylium, and in her hand she held a withered checklist, finalizing her goals for the party.
The sun lingered softly in the open courtyard as if in an understanding of the party to be had, and so didn’t give Allianna any reason to bring the heart of the party inside to the cool marbled rooms decorated for much later in the day. Here under the portico, the walkways were lined with tables filled with fruits and vegetables to freshly feast upon. Squares of cheese were cut and laid next to thin bread and baked crackers, chilled in the shade of the portico, and strategically placed where they may be enjoyed next to artistic frescos depicting historical occasions and lovely landscapes found all around Ethica.
Every member of every nation who had a name in the coming summit, or a foot in the door of major politics was expected to come. It gave them all a chance to talk and meet before the summit, as well as for the more sly politicians to set out on any last minute deals and dealings. Of course, a feast was scheduled quickly after everyone was to arrive, to allow the candidates to give speeches and toasts to sway the mob of votes one way or the other.
Purple-clad servants rushed to and fro, clogging the wide and high atrium with sweet non-offensive scents, floral vases and tall statues, eager to impress all who walk in. Silver platters were a common sight all the way to the entrance to the portico. Phoenix guardsmen stood sentinel-like unmoving statues in their gilded silver white armor where decoration was lacking by white plaster walls or marble. Their design combined with their beaked winged helms and majestic golden feathered cloaks allowed them the unerring appearance of the proud Phoenix of House Valarien. As if it had been given human form and cast from splendid steel. They're fancifully fluted and engraved suits of armor matching their splendid feathered spears.
At the start of the maze of beauty was the thick door and its gracious janitor, smiling and eager to permit the first of the guests to entry.
The Heartlands
PreludeCeveut, 12th of Gerna | 1200 AULocation: North Gate of Lalrial
Lanariel Vanalan breathed in the cool air of the open forest as she made her way down the twisting narrow path. A strong wind caused the flowers caught in the breeze to dance about her like a spinning cyclone of many colors. Here and there a green leaf from the trees swayed among the blues and whites. A sudden sneeze rocked the cloaked figure--oh how she hated her allergies. The day was beautiful out as any fool could see yet she could scarcely enjoy it. Unused to the great outdoors, the woman found herself stuffy and congested constantly. A fate no magic she possessed could remedy sadly. It was sometimes infuriating to imagine magic was capable of countless wondrous things, yet for something as trivial as this she had no power to overcome.
Perhaps had she been a trained as a druid? No, if such was the cause she would have had much more resilient a constitution in the first place given their ilk spent most their lives in the wilds. At least, her journey would not last much longer. The wind was bothersome but the heat from the sun above warmed her bones well enough. It was a cloudy day to be sure; the hooded and cloaked woman only hoped there was to be no rain. She could hardly predict the weather given her lack of experience in the outdoors.
The woman’s cloak aided in hiding her stunning features and ashen hair. All signs that would have given away her native house instantly despite her ‘bastard’ heritage. Her magnificent silver snow hair cascaded down and peaked from the folds of her hood. Silver eyes watched the surrounding terrain with a mix of caution and anxiety. She once again questioned the wisdom of her superiors in sending her to Lalrial-- surely there were other masters who could make the trek? Sure she held promise, but her experience in such a role and away from the grand province of Sorcere no less… she had to admit she held some doubt in her heart. She gripped the quarterstaff in her right hand more firmly as she climbed a small hill. A few bells tied to one end that rattled with each step; the only sound aside from the rustling of the wind.
From her new vantage point, the young woman caught her breath at the sight. Near the top of the hill she, at last, saw her destination in full view. The gleaming white City of Towers, it’s ivory spires seeming to jut into the very heavens.
Well, she had at last arrived, she only hoped that the news of her coming had preceded her as her superiors had planned. She wondered what awaited her in the legendary City of White-Gold Towers.