Helo

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Interactions: Hala, Kira
Attire: Red like the other cool kids

---

Rohit, enthusiastic with everything he did, grabbed Hala’s hand, pulled them close, and gave a few shoulder pats that caught the jealous eye of Nadim. A moment was then dedicated to the dog, whose ears and wrinkly jowls received a proper scratching and squishing, respectively.

“I would’ve invited you, if I knew you were here.” He teased.

“Bored? I am never bored. No, today, I met,” His neck craned as he tried to spot Milo. The artist wasn’t hard to find - St. Claire naturally stood out. Like one of his painting’s, Milo’s captivating presence kept eyes on him. Ironic.

“Milo St. Claire. Definitely a talent worth writing home about. Look at that suit. Nothing says ‘Hey, look at me’ like being decked out in eyeballs, huh. As if anyone needs to be reminded to look at him.” He watched Milo for few moments longer than necessary.

“Anyway, fantastic artist. Invited me to his VIP party during his gallery showing. Great time. Oh, I wonder if Mina’s here.” He looked around the table again and spotted a couple of redheads but no sign of Mina. He would’ve thought she’d be here.

“Guess she’s not here. But we were both deemed VIP worthy. She’s fascinating, hair like fire too. New development, I am adored by redheads.” He bragged and looked around for Olivia, who he also pointed out to Hala. He attempted to wave at Olivia but wasn’t sure if she saw.

“I helped her pick out an owl today, after the gallery. How was your journey? Have you been bored without me?” He continued; the atmosphere was vibrant and loud and Rohit naturally met the energy in the room.

He glanced to those in their immediate vicinity, table neighbors if you will, and took note of the faces he recognized. He flashed a quick smile toward Farim and Ana.

“Bey Rohit Amar, nice to meet you.” He introduced himself to Kira, the woman directly across from him whom he didn’t recognize.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Top Deck - Sick Bay
Interactions: Meiyu@Tae, Scratch & Val@Apex Sunburn
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 43
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

“That’s just Scratch!…” Vallena spoke up, defending the surgeon as Scratch and The Breaker of Arms casually discussed their interest in poisons and preferred wounds. Because, of course, the Yuan-Ti had a thing for poison. The connection there was just a bit too poetic not to notice, but not worth commenting on.

“I swear he’s not bad! He’s just strange. And a little–”

“I agree, Scratch is good people.” He softened his expression and tone for the child apprentice. He wasn’t concerned with how the dark elf spoke, only that the surgeon helped when he was needed. Actions mattered over words. He glanced back at the two as they continued their grim conversation. For the most part, it was easy enough for him to tune out, but it was likely disconcerting for someone like Val to hear.

“...But my favorites? The ones that mimic a fatal wound. Make the body believe it’s dying…”

“She is scary, isn’t she?” He agreed with Val’s earlier hushed statement as his focus returned to the girl. The Yuan-Ti would be far from his first pick if he got to choose his enemies. “But not stupid. Certainly not stupid enough to get on Scratch’s bad side. I think you’re safe.” He added in a hushed tone.

Ezekiel followed Val’s direction to Sick Bay. Down a flight of stairs, past the bar, and towards the forward most end of the ship. Sick Bay ran like a well-oiled machine, an oasis of order amongst a relatively chaotic ship. Nothing against Scratch and Val; they provided a speedy triage and stabilized the arm, but the medics at Sick Bay handled everything else without a single detail overlooked.

Someone was sent to find the boy’s parent(s) or guardians. Someone set the kid up in a bed. Someone kept careful watch over the young man’s vital signs while he remained unconscious from the ether.

Ezekiel removed a glove from his right hand and affixed his healing amulet to his wrist. It rested against the back of his palm while his palm rested on the break in the bone. With his eye closed, and the rest of the world almost non-existant, he prayed to the Silver Flame. He chanelled those prayers into the amulet. Light leaked out from behind the cloth over his missing eye. His focus remained unbreakable.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Lord Leo Smithwood

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Interactions: Thea, Drake, Kazu(mentioned)
Attire: “Why was I not told red was the color for tonight?”

---

Leo gave a curt nod of approval to Drake as the lord pulled out a chair for Thea. He watched, his attention subtly shifting from Drake to Thea until he finally smiled. He noted none of the uncomfortable energy or defeated annoyance in Thea’s eyes at Drake’s approach — a stark and welcomed contrast to what he’d seen when Prince Felix had been around.

Drake was already an improvement.

“You may call me Leo.” He accepted Drake’s handshake with a stern grip meant to test the other man. “Pleasure’s all mine. I’ve heard nothing but high praises anytime your name is mentioned, Lord Drake. You’re quite the talented pianist.”

There was a mild ruckus. A few plates and goblets clattered. A man in the most horrendous suit Leo had ever had the misfortune of looking at seemed to be the cause. He pulled his hand away from Drake.

“Gods, look at that! It’s like a rainbow vomited all over him. Guess they let anyone into these things nowadays.” He whispered as he watched the monstrosity of clashing colors and patterns make his way to his seat.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Attire: Winners wear red & black!
Interactions: Alexander, Olivia, Dutchess Edwards, Ariella, and Edin

---

Clarence turned his head and flashed a wide and enthusiastic smile at Wulfric. He liked this sibling: a presence that commanded attention, a dark wit, and who was, without a doubt, the most regel of the Danroses. He dipped his head respectfully, returning the nod.

His gaze flickered to a woman who addressed him. He neither recognized her nor did he note anything about her that said she was important. Just the opposite, in fact. She entered the dinner with the Vikena family; neither Edin nor Wulfric held that ilk in high esteem. So he followed their lead, giving nothing more than a single glance their way.

“I fancy the suit, Prince Callum. To think we share the same tailor is quite the honor,”

Clarence smiled at Alexander. “There’s a reason for that.” He said, straightening his bow tie. “Men like us, only accept the best.”

Alexander. Works for Black Rose, our allies. Clarence studied him, a far more put-together and composed ally than he’d ever expected Callum to have.

Mischief twisted its way into his smile. He watched the Edwards entrance, noted the major snub as the Dutchess failed to bow before the royal family.

“Dutchess Edwards, do you think yourself our betters? I noticed you did not bow, or curtsy, before your king and his family. Are you too proud to submit before His Majesty?” Clarence asked, his voice carrying across the dining hall with ease. As he spoke, he watched Ariella’s clumsy entrance.

Clarence lifted a hand and blew a kiss her way, the gesture smoothly turning into a wave.

“Oh, and look father, your jester has arrived." Clarence spoke as he watched the puppet boy knocked over food, plates, and goblets. A jester indeed, the puppet's colorful eyesore of a suit absolutely screamed court jester. The anticipation was thrilling - what would the king do with his new toy?

Hopefull something violently entertaining. The spirit thought. How long could the puppet keep dancing?

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Top Deck
Interactions: Meiyu@Tae, Scratch@Apex Sunburn
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 38
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

The doctor carried on as expected. He did not care about motives and reasoning but focused entirely on getting the job done. It was only slightly concerning to hear that the dark elf occasionally tested out his own supplies on himself, but Ezekiel supposed they had to be first tested on somebody. Honorable, if he really thought about it, that Scratch would risk his own safety first.

“I would’ve preferred you use words instead of violence to correct a child.” His reply to the Yuan-Ti was flat and his eye did not bother to travel in her direction. His full attention stayed on the boy, the dark elf, and the human girl.

Despite the caution the duo used when handling their ether, as soon as the amber bottle was opened, its scent wafted through the air. Sickening. A little sweet. Pungent enough that Ezekiel felt his developing headache grow stronger. It certainly did the trick though; within a few breaths, the boy was out like a light. His eye never moved from the sparse rises and falls of the kid’s chest once he’d slipped out of consciousness.

“Already planned to.” Again, he answered the woman without a glance in her direction. Of course he’d offer the child some guidance, the only logical next step after healing the arm. “I'll find out why he has resorted to theft and correct it. Likely desperation or idle hands. You said he wasn’t a very good thief. Means it’s a new habit. Easy to break.” A teenager who just started trying to pick pockets, that wasn’t some irredeamable spree, and hardly a wicked act. “Things that make life worth living are worth more than things that only keep you alive.”

He watched the young assistant set the bone, wrapping it with the various bandaging materials. It was neither too loose nor too tight, a well-done job. Ezekiel gave Scaerthrynne a nod and accepted the box of pills. “Thank you for your time.“ He glanced first at Scratch and then at Val. A quick nod of his head. “I’ll get him to sick bay.” He kept his response to the point, Scratch seemed like a busy guy.

The surgeon lightly poked the snake. The snake struck back with a venomous barb. She joked about her next victim. His eye flickered back to the Yuan-Ti. “That’s awfully dramatic.“ Ezekiel scoffed as he scooped up the now sleeping child and looked around for the route down to Sick Bay.

“Chastised. Sure.” He said as he headed off. “What did you expect? You snapped a child’s arm; did you think anyone would praise you for that?” It was a rhetorical question. He didn’t wait for an answer.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Top Deck
Interactions: Meiyu@Tae, Scratch@Apex Sunburn
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 35
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

“Apologies,” He answered as the woman corrested his assumption that she was the boy’s mother. The word lingered in the air, the beginning of an unfinished statement, as Ezekiel found himself confused and concerned by the rest of her words.

Merely an unfortunate soul who stumbled into my path.

It was a strange way to describe an injured child. His focus returned to the boy as the child spoke up.

“Only once before?” Ezekiel gave an impressed nod to the child. “And you’re already too tough to cry about it.” He gave a light tap of his fist to the uninjuried arm of the youth.

The Stormrider’s surgeon and his young assistant soon arrived. Ezekiel moved out of the way so Scaerthrynne could properly examine the boy. The doctor’s bedside manner, or lack thereof, reminded him of the battle-hardened medics and healers he’d encountered during the war. It was familiar, and familiar was comfortable and easy trust.

“You might want to knock him out first, otherwise the pain might kill him.”

Well, maybe not comforting for the young boy, but the more Scaerthrynne spoke, the more confident Ezekiel became in the dark elf’s skills. The doctor and his assistant not only relayed a plan to set the boy’s broken bone, but the trusth of the situation.

This was no accident. Someone had intentionally snapped this poor kid's arm.

The kimono-clad woman chastised the crowd, insisting that none of the onlookers cared what was happening and merely wanted some form of entertainment. Most of them had dispersed by the time the woman admitted to breaking the child’s arm in retaliation for an attempted theft.

Had the thief been a grown man and not a child, Ezekiel would’ve been inclined to agree with her choice in punishment.

“I care.” He corrected the serpentine woman’s early statement. “Someone breaking a child’s arm is not some minor misfortune. It is an intentionally cruel overreaction to petty theft.” He commented, and from the woman’s comments, he could assume the boy wasn’t some expert thief but a child who merely strayed into lawless behavior. Children were malleable, this boy could be swayed back to a better way of life, one not reliant on theft.

“A lesson that the world is cruel and unforgiving does not inspire a child to be better.” He added. If anything, it taught the wrong lesson, that wrongs should be met with greater wrongs.

“But what’s done is done,” he looked over at the surgeon. “Where’s your office?” He asked Scaerthrynne, “I can help move the kid there, and once you’ve got the bone set, I help speed up the healing for him.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Interactions: Hala
Attire: Red like the other cool kids

---

“Presenting Bey Rohit Amar of Kimoon!” The herald announced.

Rohit was one of the last guests to arrive, late and seemingly unbothered by his lack of punctuality. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sights: a sprawling feast that covered multiple tables, the collection of nobles from all over wearing only their best, and the lavish decorations that surrounded it all. The royal family had gone to great and impressive effort here.

What was significantly less impressive was the sight of Caesonia’s king, and he tried his best to keep a neutral expression as he watched Edin shovel food into his mouth with all the gusto of a ravenous hog. Then again, who could match the grace and charm of Alidasht’s Sultan? Perhaps the bar for a royal presence was simply set too high by those from his own home. Rohit spotted the Grand Vizier taking his seat and he flashed him a bright smile and gave a small wave.

With a plate of food in hand, Rohit headed to his assigned seat only to find a surprise to end all surprises.

Here he was, smoked up, dressed in his finest silks, and ready to feast on the finest offerings in the city. Rohit mistakenly thought today could not get any better. But he was wrong. He saw the big, dark-furred pile of muscle first. A wide grin overtook his face as he recognized the dog immediately.

Home, most often, was a place but deeper than that, it was the place filled with the people who made you feel welcomed and comfortable. In lieu of the place itself, to see someone who was basically family was just as precious. All lingering traces of homesickness vanished.

“Hala?!” His voice, a touch too loud but unmistakably delighted. “When did you get here?” He asked, taking his seat.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Lord Leo Smithwood

---

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Interactions: Thea
Attire: “Why was I not told red was the color for tonight?”

Leo arrived at the castle shortly after Thea had; his timing was just right to continue avoiding a conversation with his mother. The harold, shouted his arrival, ...Lord Leo Smithwood of Stravy,” as he entered the dining hall. His suit, one of eye-catching emerald green and ornate gold design, now seemed a mistake. Apparently red was the color for the evening! Leo spotted the cardinal-clad Lorenzo looking as dapper as ever, Charlotte echoing her father’s red scheme in her own dress, and Alexander in a striking crimson suit. Even the notoriously poorly put-together Prince Callum was decked out in red as were a handful of others.

Green was quite literally the opposite of red, and Leo could feel his finger slipping from the constantly beating pulse of the latest trends. It was a maddeningly frustrating realization. Well, at least his shoes matched and looked significantly more expensive than a pair of slippers.

“Look at this feast. Seems the Danroses’ have gone all out for your birthday.” He whispered to Thea as he took a seat beside her. He looked around at the feast spread out across the various tables and breathed a small sigh of relief. If everyone was eating the same food like this, there was little opportunity for any mystical pranks to be played solely on him. Either everyone was going to have some magical weird side effect, or the food was untainted. It was a huge relief not to have to avoid eating and potentially offend Edin.

“Why are half the guests wearing red? Is that the new trend?” He asked, noting her orange dress. What was orange except a softer version of red. Still close enough to fit the theme. Unlike green.

Neo Genesis: Chronicles of Eberron

Race: Aasimar
Class: Paladin
Location: Stormrider; Top Deck
Equipment: His longsword; Retribution and a healing amulet. A backpack with supplies and his lute.
Attire: Clothing and gloves
Gold Balance: 30
Injuries: Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.

---

It was easy to spot a necromancer.

A hollowness behind their eyes. A sallowness to their skin. Death clung to them; it raised the hair on the back of one’s neck, sent a shiver down the spine, and made the pulse quicken- things people could ignore or pass off as a ‘bad vibe.’

Ezekiel was far too familiar with necromancers not to notice one. He caught the subtle odor of decay that clung to the elderly man as he walked past. No matter how much they bathed, what oils and fragrances they used to try to mask it, the smell of death always lingered on their skin.

His head turned, and his eye caught a glimpse of the man’s face. Time slowed.

Ezekiel saw that same face, now with its wrinkles gone, as if time had reversed. A man still in his prime, posture straightened, dressed in the red and black of Karrnath, commanding a legion of undead soldiers. That subtle whiff of decay he'd caught on the man amplified. The air became thick and suffocating with its sour scent. A cloying rot that clawed down his throat.

Ezekiel’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. An airship was not the place to bisect a likely retired Karrn general. The war was over. It was possible that the elderly man had given up necromancy. There were quieter ways to end a life. A tumble off the side of the ship could look like an accident. His head began to throb just behind his eye.

He watched the man walk past a towering warforged. For a moment, his hawk-like focus on the necromancer vanished, and he studied the machine with a softer expression. There was no mistaking the warforged origins; the elegant machine was of Cyran design. The sight of that warforged, of a Cyran brother, supplied a warmth that stung beyond words.

Warmth fanned the fire, hatred burned brighter, and the glow of his eye intensified. Those who held a hatred of the warforged had it wrong. The machines were not the monsters of The Last War; that title belonged to the undead forces of Karrnath.

And every horror caused by the undead came from the hands of necromancers.

The world could do with one less twisted mage toying with death.

Snap!

The sound of bone breaking drew his attention away from the elderly necromancer. He turned and spotted a child, his expression a mix of pain, fear, and shock, who sat cradling his arm on his lap. Above the boy, a woman in a dark and decorated kimono attempted to comfort him with a hand on the kid's shoulder. The woman called out for a doctor and a couple of concerned passengers went to fetch the ship’s physician.

Ezekiel headed down the ship’s deck, the opposite direction from the necrommancer's path and toward the woman and the injured boy.

“I’m not a doctor, but I can do some healing magic.” He gave the pair a respectful nod of his head before kneeling down to the boy’s level.

“It’ll hurt and take a few sessions, but I can expedite the healing for your son’s arm.” He offered, his eye flickered from the boy the woman standing over him. “Get you back to enjoying your voyage as quick as possible.”

Ezekiel waited for their answer and returned his attention to the child. “Ever broken a bone before?” He asked the boy, trying to distract him from the pain.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Attire: Winners wear red & black!
Interactions: Alexander

---

<It is my turn.>

Clarence gave little warning before the monkey dissolved into a billowing cloud of smoke. The smoke entered through the nose, eyes, ears, and mouth of the vessel that submitted to possession. In a matter of seconds, all that was Callum Danrose was locked away in a dream.

And it could’ve been a good dream too. Had Callum shown proper loyalty and respect to the familiar, Clarence would’ve rewarded his mortal with an inspiring dream. But it was petty spirit, even the slightest fault would earn the mortal a long nightmare that would feel like an eternity.

Clarence stretched out what were now his arms and legs, and paced around the prince’s room until he got a sense of balance in his new form. He felt the weariness, the dull ache of old injuries, and the softly fading drunkenness. The urge to open the bottle of whiskey that sat on the prince’s desk called to him.

“This body abhors sobriety.” He whispered. The voice came out strained, the spirit practiced talking to itself in a hushed whisper until he had gotten the hang of speaking. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, and clumsy hands slowly lifted and swirled the glass.

“Only right. That my first taste. In this vessel. Is of whiskey.” Clarence savored the sharp burn, caught hints of the barrel the liquid had aged in, and smiled at the warmth.

He felt a hunger so different from its own. Simpler. A desire for mortal food. He looked around the room, softly talking to himself as acclimated to a human body.

“I must prepare for the banquet.” He said to himself, speech slowly becoming natural.

Clarence took his time getting ready for the event. He indulged in a long hot bath, savoring the sensation of water and scrubbing against skin that could actually feel. He inhaled the scents of soap and cologne with delight, no longer did the scents of energies and emotions overwhelm him. It had been too long since he could enjoy as mortals enjoyed and everything felt new and fresh.

He studied himself in a mirror as he dressed. He looked almost exactly like Callum with a handful of subtle differences. His eyes, still a brilliant blue, were a few shades darker. His posture was entirely relaxed and comfortable in ways Callum could never achieve. His smile was nothing like the prince’s, a show of teeth and a glint of dark mischief. Few would notice, and fewer would care about such minor changes.

Clarence found the simple golden crown that the prince never wore, a placed it top his head with glee. Dressed in a black and crimson suit, white shirt, and gold bowtie, Clarence made his way to the dining hall. His gait, confident and carefree, his stomach occasionally growled as the scents from the feast wafted through the palace.

“Presenting...Prince Callum Danrose?!” The herald seemed unable to contain the surprise in his tone; not only was the youngest royal punctual but arrived completely dignified and poised. No antics, no drunken stumble, and not a hair out of place.

Clarence flashed a wide smile and nodded to those whose heads turned to look at him. He helped himself in the dining hall, a plate stacked with rich appetizers, decadent meats, and savory sides. He balanced his plate, nowhere near as comically piled high as Edin’s, with grace in one hand, and a glass of rich red wine in the other. He took his seat at the banquet table.

He glanced at Alexander as the new advisor spoke. “I can assume the food is delectable,”

“Of course. We would never present our guests with anything less than perfection. Tonight you have the honor of dining as royalty.” He commented.