Irradiant

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

<Snipped quote by The Otter>
_{the rest of us don’t get a hi}

@Donut Look Now

PAAAAAIN.

But welcome aboard, The Otter!

<Snipped quote by Irradiant>

Glad you liked the notes! Sorry, I know theyre a bit hard to read. If you needed the text copy, I would be happy to write it out again for you. ^^;

Sounds good on the NPC sheet!

Yep! Word would travel as merchants would travel the road across the border. They tend to stay away from Athroyeaux, thinking it's cursed.

@Estylwen

A bit overdue, but here's the NPC sheet, Est!

Sawyer Hayworth

Sawyer Hayworth

68 | Human, ♂ | 6'1 ft, 225 lbs

"Sir Hayworth may be past his prime, but don't underestimate him. He's got fight in him yet."

---

Description:

The chief advisor of Duchess Bastille, and her second-in-command, Sir Hayworth also carries the title of "Teacher," having instructed Duchess Bastille (in secret) in the ways of the sword. Contrasting their current status in Agrovia, the Hayworth family was not always an aristocratic family, coming into prominence only after the coronation of Duchess Bastille. Sir Hayworth began as a commoner, tending to the lands of Agrovia, before joining its military once the money he earned from farm labor proved insufficient to sustain himself and his family. He proved his loyalty to Agrovia through his bladework, and eventually, he was scouted by the late Duke of Agrovia to serve as a trusted retainer. The duke did not know it then, but this very act would lead to his undoing.

Within the spacious confines of the duke's estate, Sir Hayworth would meet young Altina Freya Bastille. Frequently, he spied her swinging a blade in the dead of night, risking punishment should her father catch wind of it. Worried for the girl's safety (as Agrovia's forests were usually teeming with monsters of all sorts), he followed the girl wherever she went. One day, after weeks of bearing witness to her practices, he would approach her. "Your swordplay lacks refinement," he commented with a gruff voice, startling the hard-at-work Altina. Losing all composure, Altina felt her blade slip from her fingers, and it began to sail towards Sir Hayworth. Clang. But there was no need to worry. Sir Hayworth drew his own blade in time to deflect it, stunning Altina into further silence. "Such quickness!" The girl would finally exclaim. "I would have you be my teacher." Pfft. Sir Hayworth had burst into a fit of laughter. How confident this girl was to order him around. Still, he couldn't stand to watch her pitiful display any longer. And so, he agreed to train her.

Through his budding relationship with the young Altina, Sir Hayworth would come to realize the societal ills of his homeland. Worse, they would continue to be perpetuated by its current duke. "To each, a role to play. To the nobility, the privilege of leadership. To the common folk, the responsibility of servitude." The words of the duke rang clearly in his ears. Mere platitudes intended to serve the already-fortunate, he thought. Should the hard work of the commoner not also be rewarded with riches and privilege?

Thus, when Altina would confide in him plans of ousting her father, he would be the one to follow through with it. As the duke's most trusted retainer, there was no suspicion to be had with Sir Hayworth. That night, Sir Hayworth would serve the man his last drink. His victim, the duke, was none the wiser.

Magic:

• Shatterblade: A concentrated projection of magical energy, delivered through a simple slash.

• Bladestorm: By entering a state of brief but intense focus, the good Sir Hayworth can dilate time around him, allowing him to perform multiple actions in a window of mere seconds, if that. Slash after slash, seemingly in an instant: provided there is enough distance, he can outright inundate his enemies with relentless blasts of mana, all without fearing retaliation. That said, the technique requires him to remain still, and if someone were to invade his space while he is attempting to focus, the time-dilation effect wears off.

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Side note but those parchments/letters were a nice touch! I did struggle a bit trying to reach them though... Damn you, cursive.

Definitely gonna yap with Irradiant because one would imagine that a Duke's family getting wiped off the map and then some randoms suddenly occupying a new fief around Hathforth could bring forth funny stories. And who better to scope things out than the legendary Valkyrie, who certainly wouldn't get no-diffed by a selection of merc thugs?

@ERode

Good point! The recent events should automatically raise some red flags, and Altina would likely assume the killings were the Wizard Queen's doing. It'll give her reason enough to finally form a united front with the duke.

New post is up!

Those who wish to see the King of Ravenfell, he will teleport you back to the Hathforth pier by evening so you don't miss the Wizard Queen's departure.

@Estylwen

Sweet! At first, I thought I had to choose between one or the other... Which would've been fine either way! I would've had Altina send one of her most trusted retainers to accompany the Wizard Queen, even giving them her seed to legitimize their presence there. Will have an NPC sheet for you to look at soon(-ish).

Just had a quick question on Ravenfell: is it common knowledge that its people are (pretty much) ghosts?

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Uh oh.

Miss Jezebel is about to drop a truth bomb on our girl Melly if the dots are connecting how I think they are...

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Duchess Altina Freya Bastille & Duke Sev Willowsteel

At Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala, on 14th Hearthfire, 1402

---

Collaborator: @Estylwen

Tsk. Altina would mentally click her teeth at Lady Haliel's suggestion. To punish the alcohol-addled duke was not her intention. Rather, she sought to simply dissuade the man from drawing a bigger target on his back. Altina saw a potential ally in him, and a formidable one too, if swordsmanship were the only metric in her estimation of him. Alas, with Lady Haliel's interjection, what Altina had intended to do was all but hopeless. Perhaps she would still be able to turn the situation around somehow. Make the duke see sense through the clanging of steel. He was in a precarious situation, made even more precarious by the penalty that was set should he lose. In his impaired state, perhaps he did not fully grasp the depth of the hole he had now dug. Unfortunately for the duke, Altina would not be the one losing their duel. She would make sure of that.

This rabid dog needs to be defanged. Another thought flashed in her mind. And then, just maybe, Her Majesty would show him some lenience.

As the Duke of Nordor lunged at her, his sword poised to arc across her body, Altina met the blade with her own.

Schwing! Her steel glanced ferociously against his, locking them in a stand-off, with the edges of their blades practically a hair's breadth from both of their faces.

Then, her voice as if a candle in the wind, Altina would whisper, "Fool. Clear your mind and think." Increasing the force behind her blow, "Your dagger will not reach her throat. Not now."

She would leave him with this. "So be patient."

It was no secret that the duke was an accomplished swordsman. Even while inebriated and charged with emotion, Altina could still clearly observe it. His stance... It was typical of the sword style the duke and his people practiced. More importantly, it showed no signs of compromise. Which meant Altina had to take him seriously, lest she be outmaneuvered by the man.

"You will win our bout, you say?" Altina quipped.

The handsome duke would be wrong on that front. Exerting strength far beyond her stature, she would quickly shift her weight forward. Schwing! She intended to push the duke back. To send him careening to the wall behind him. You cannot reach her right now. So sit still and wait for the right time.

As skillful as the duke was with the blade, he was someone Altina was confident in overpowering.

She would smirk, her blue eyes shimmering with an untainted confidence. One could call it arrogance, even. "Was that strike the best you've got, Duke of Nordor?" An obvious taunt. "I am disappointed. I expected more from Nordor's finest." Now Altina would enjoy herself. Duke Willowsteel was a prideful man. She knew he would not take this lying down. He would fight back, surely. And Altina would be more than ready to retaliate. She gripped the hilt of her blade in anticipation.

The Duke sucked in a breath as he was thrown back, glaring hot at the duchess. Even with the alcohol, it was clear, evident, that she was trying to save him.

Girl, it's too late for me, for us as a people. She digs her claws into us, and never lets go.

His gaze wandered to the Wizard Queen, his jaw setting firm. What awaited him after this? He had already spoken far out of turn. The Queen would surely hang him for it.

But the pain under this oppressive regime had its fair share of cracks. He was just a product of the system. More would replace him.

His eyes glanced over the Duke Rhinecliff.

More like him would lead them, and finish this sorry tale.

Raising his blade again, the duke narrowed his eyes. The alcohol in his system put him at a severe disadvantage. His reflexes were slower than normal. At least he'd dream peacefully, if the Wizard Queen allowed it when this ‘farce’, as Duchess Bastille put it, ended.

“You're lucky these blades are dull, Duchess. Else I'd surely have finished this already!” He boasted back, allowing himself a crooked smirk.

He spun the blade in his hand, tip pointed directly at Altina's heart, before he dove forward again. He feinted left at the last instance, before redirecting course and rolling right, aiming to jab her shoulder above her breastplate by surprise, giving her little in the way of reaction time.

Altina followed the duke's motion as he rose up from her attack. Her expression soured. And so you yield? Just like that?

She tossed her heels to the side, and her facade along with them. Her true emotions now shone in her eyes. Disgust. Disillusion. But most of all, pity. All this defiance over your pride and yet none of it directed at your true enemy?

With the way she stared at the man, it put to question if she still required her sword to harm him. Her eyes might as well have been weapons themselves. You are no duke. You do not deserve your people.

It didn't take long for Duke Willowsteel to recover. In fact, the man was already prepared to strike at her.

Altina would take on a defensive posture.

The duke was frustratingly deft, even with the poison that was Gold-touch wine dulling his senses. She watched as he lunged, once again, with dangerous speed at her, his blade settling into a jab.

In that split second, Altina could vaguely tell he was avoiding another head-on clash. Or so she assumed.

If Altina was proficient in anything, it was gripping her opponent's blade, and getting the best of them in a direct engagement. Given a thrusting attack, however, there would be nothing for her to engage — unless, of course, she wanted to risk getting stabbed.

The duke, whether consciously or not, denied her her greatest advantage.

Perhaps the duke was fully aware of her game. She wouldn't put it past the swordsman to have already studied her techniques in the past. He was clever. And she needed to be careful.

A step back. Then, a vigorous arc upwards. Clang! The edge of her blade would meet with the tip of Duke Willowsteel's.

Altina could not read the trajectory of the duke's feinting, which meant her best choice was to avoid him entirely. The duchess would not tempt fate by attempting to guard, and this decision would save her.

With a committed jab, it was not only Altina who the duke would be putting in harm's way, but himself as well. He was in prime position for a counter from Altina, and through a well-timed swing, Altina would serve him a sobering reminder.

She would attempt to brush his blade to the side, and in the best case, leave him open for another attack. In the worst case, she would force him to guard haphazardly, allowing her an opportunity to sink her fangs.

A drunken, mad scramble. Sev had his momentum committed to his jab, and with his trajectory launched off-course, he was still careening towards the duchess. He attempted to right himself, but he could already feel his reaction timing slow down, his feet crossing in an unsavory way.

His gaze glanced to the duchess, and he attempted to bring his blade back to defend, but he was going to be a second short. A crucial second short.

Altina's blade would stop just before it would deliver another slash at Duke Willowsteel. The blade would sit flush against his neck but for a brief moment. Ultimately, Altina would lower it, tossing it unceremoniously to the ground.

"Well, well, well. A valiant effort, dear duke." She wrapped an arm around him. "But alas, this is the outcome."

Facing the audience that had formed around them, she stretched out her hands, as if to preach, "You see, my fellow constituents, had our duke actually been of the right mind, then he would have been able to raise his sword in time. Needless to say, of the right mind, he was not."

Turning her gaze to the red-haired court jester, "Miss Britesong, allow us to offer our deepest apologies." She would force Duke Willowsteel to bow. "Though it is certainly no excuse for his actions, even the most disciplined of men can fall prey to vices."

She then spun around to face the queen, "Your Majesty, I hope we kept you thoroughly entertained,” and performed a little curtsy. “He is all yours.”

Live to fight another battle, or die like a coward. Whatever the duke's next actions, Altina would leave his fate in his hands. She would abet him no more.

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Altina, noticing a fight about to break out:



Sorry Mirie...

Also Altina:

A party is not the place to pick fights.

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Duchess Altina Freya Bastille, The "Valkyrie"

At Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala, on 14th Hearthfire, 1402

---

III: Cracks

@Estylwen

Altina would let out a mischievous chuckle at the duke's comment. As the towering duchess attempted to meet the Rockhold duke at eye level, it occurred to her just how significant the disparity in their heights was. Not that it was of any consequence. Altina knew very well the strength that Duke Dadreak possessed, having received the brunt of an axe swing from him in the past.

She listened intently to the duke's musings on the state of Rockhold. And when the duke returned her own question to her, she would respond in kind.

"Agrovia fares just as well, Duke Dadreak!" Altina began, her voice teetering into a yell loud enough to compete with the duke's own. For the umpteenth time in the night, her lips would once again curl into a smile. But, contrary to all other instances of it, this time, there was no pretense. No deception, no posturing — none of that. This was as close to 'genuine' Altina could get.

"I am sure you have heard these words from me many times, but Rockhold has truly contributed much to Agrovia's current prosperity."

Lowering herself into a bow, "For that and more, Rockhold has my eternal thanks."

Forgoing her formality from earlier, she would eventually rise from her position, making for the refreshments, and downing another glass of Gold-touch wine, flashing the duke a toothy grin all the while.

She would follow up with a playful wag of the finger. "Oh, Duke of the Dwarves! When ale is involved, I can sing in any language!"

She had not forgotten their arrangement, of course, to meet after the gala. She would remind the duke of this before leaving him. "Well, I must bid you farewell for now, Duke Dadreak." Waving the glass in her hands, "But rest assured, we will not be parted for long!"

Catching a glimpse of Lady Justitia, Altina would saunter off towards the dignified noblewoman. Before she could make contact, however, a scene would play out before her that would catch the attention of everyone present.

"Why don’t you tell these good people what you’re hiding!"

Altina turned her head.

"Is everything a business exchange for you? Do you see us as pawns, not people?"

It was Duke Willowsteel.

“And you. Don’t get me started on you. You have all these fancy spells, all these tricks. But I’ve figured out the dark secret behind your powers.”

And in his drunken stupor, he spewed out accusations both founded and unfounded. Perhaps the most egregious of them was...

"Court Jester Britesong uses human sacrifices to fake her illusions!"

First, silence. And then, all at once, a chorus of gasps. Even Altina herself could scarcely believe what was unfolding.

Sigh. This was why the duchess did not overindulge. Alcohol frees one from all inhibitions, for better or worse, and in the process, lays bare all truths. And for Duke Willowsteel, his truth was that he disdained the Wizard Queen's rule. This bottled-up frustration must have finally bubbled to the surface. In this maelstrom of pure, unbridled emotion, Duke Rhinecliff and Duchess Agustria were unfortunately caught up.

... And they would not be the only ones.

A teasing remark would flutter from Altina's lips as she walked closer to the Duke of Nordor. "Duke Willowsteel. Strange as it is coming from me, I must advise you — a party is not the place to pick fights."

Her face darkened. "As a warrior yourself, surely you realize this, no?"

As if flipping through masks, Altina would all too quickly turn a serious expression into an impish one. Her eyes landed on the ornamental swords hanging from the castle walls.

"But if you insist on continuing this... farce..."

She would take a pair of blades from their displays —

"Here."

— and toss one of them at Duke Willowsteel.

"I implore you to clash with me. Speak to me in a way only a warrior can understand. That I can understand."

One look at her blade was enough for anyone to tell that it was dull. It was decorative, after all, not intended to be used as a weapon. By all accounts, the chances of injury for either party were minimal. Altina saw an opportunity. For what, one could hardly guess, the machinations brewing in her mind still too cryptic and unclear. Nevertheless, her voice would ring out across the room, putting them into action.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I know how most of you regard the art of battle," she prefaced. "Barbaric, uncivil, lacking all sense of humanity."

"But, nay! You would be mistaken — all of you. There is beauty in it." A familiar smile would return to her features. "Allow me and Duke Willowsteel to demonstrate." Shooting a glance at the Wizard Queen, "With Your Majesty's permission, of course."

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Uh oh... The kids made an oopsie. They're gonna be in for a scolding later...

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Duchess Altina Freya Bastille, The "Valkyrie"

At Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala, on 14th Hearthfire, 1402

---

II: Opening Moves

@Estylwen @Donut Look Now

A lighthearted provocation from the Wizard Queen. Perhaps she'd read Altina right, after all. The power of ambiguity: to masquerade ill intent with goodwill, and at times, vice-versa. It was a power Altina wielded just as proficiently as her greatsword, and her weapon of choice when it came to any sort of politicking. Altina herself had not yet made up her mind on the Wizard Queen. But all the same, she would let the monarch know — albeit subtly — of the possibilities: of loyalty, and of betrayal.

She burst in a fit of laughter, realizing the truth behind the Wizard Queen's words. "You are right there, Your Majesty. Though, I daresay, susceptible to magic they may be, the dwarves are among the most valiant warriors in all of Arrowfell."

Altina steeled her gaze. "I have sparred with many of Rockhold's generals, and even with the weight of my sword bearing down on them, they stare it down fearlessly, enchanted by magic or not."

Her seriousness faded quickly, and in its place was that familiar smile again, gentle but unrevealing. "An admirable quality, wouldn't we all agree?"

She would turn to Advisor Urimyar next, his reprimands still fresh in her mind. "Apologies for my conduct earlier, Sir Vulluin. You know I mean no disrespect towards Her Majesty the Wizard Queen."

She excitedly clasped her hands together before spreading them apart in a sweeping motion, as if to gesture at the excess around her. "Why, with an atmosphere such as this, I found myself simply intoxicated by the festive mood!"

Then, she bowed — and deeply, this time — to make up for her offense. "My greatest compliments to you, Your Majesty." Now her offering was in the hands of Sir Vulluin.

Unexpectedly, Duke Rhinecliff and Lady Safina shortly joined them. While Lady Safina whispered what were likely secrets in Sir Vulluin's ears, Duke Rhinecliff approached both herself and Duchess Agustria, planting a kiss on their hands.

"Duke Rhinecliff," Altina cooed. "I am glad you've spared some time to make merry with us." She leaned in closer, noticing the clamor of the party starting to drown her out. "By the by, I appreciate that shipment of wine you've sent my way. It was my uncle's birthday, you see, and we were in dire need of good ale."

Stepping back, "You absolutely must allow me to repay you for your kindness in the future!"

This would be the extent of their conversation, however, as further exchanges would be cut short by the arrival of the court jester, in all her performative glory. She would hand Altina a pearl necklace, which Altina accepted graciously.

And it wasn't just the jester who would arrive — various personages would soon pour into the castle's halls. One of them in particular was someone Altina knew well: the duke of Rockhold, Dadraek Grimhand. He was a kindred spirit, and someone who shared Altina's penchant for battle.

Altina shifted her gaze towards him. "Ah, well if it isn't my favorite duke!" She exclaimed teasingly. "And of course! You need only ask the Wizard Queen herself. A decoration most worthy of her gallery, that blade is."

"You seem to be in good health, Duke Dadraek. From that, I can only assume all is well in your realm?"

A dangerous glint would flash in her eyes. "We have much to catch up on."

"But before that..." Swish. She would serve the duke a glass of Gold-touch wine, which she spun between her fingers. "We must celebrate first! What is a party if not for celebration?"

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

LMAO. Poor Earl. Hopefully no one here has the same name...

Also, did a bit of googling, and apparently earl = count!

An earl is the nobility ranking that lies between a marquis and a viscount. It is the English equivalent of the European title "count" and has rich associations with British royalty.

Reading the most recent posts, it's looking like Mirie is firmly in the duke's court. The fact she knew Nyx was impersonating the duke also lends some credence to that. Are the both of them cooking up some plan behind the scenes? Dut, dut, dun.

I initially planned on having Altina side with the duke as well, but hm... now, I dunno... The Wizard Queen might end up getting dog-piled if this keeps up, so I'm reconsidering... I left her allegiances up in the air in my initial post to give myself some leeway. Decisions, decisions...

“Did you know, dear duchess…” Her tone was soft, almost melodic, “That dwarves are more susceptible to magic and darkness?”

More susceptible to me.

The Wizard Queen pretended to shrug this off, her own smile matching the duchess’ exactly. “Alas, their physical strength leaves their defenses leaving something to be desired.”

@Estylwen

Ooh, spicy. Altina would probably be good friends with the Wizard Queen if it weren't for the circumstances. She has an affinity for fiery people. That said, maybe it's not too late? Maybe that potential friendship is still in the books? Who knows?

Meanwhile, Vulluin is off in his corner, sulking, "This disrespectful bitch..."

Vulluin, his face a stony mask, held his hands out for the art piece in the duchess’ hands, “I would be happy to accept this wondrous gift. Her Grace the Duchess has surpassed herself.”

@Estylwen

I totally just didn't forget to have Altina bow in my post, nope, no sirree.

Unrelated but the bit with Safina was hilarious. Her pulling out a frickin' ledger, all ready and prepared, only to have the "duke" finesse his way out of her grasp — major "oof." I guess power dynamics would prevent her from forcibly keeping him there anyways.

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Duchess Altina Freya Bastille, The "Valkyrie"

At Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala, on 14th Hearthfire, 1402

---

I: Parade of Precursors

The neighing of horses, followed shortly by the swinging open of the carriage door, marked Altina's arrival at the Hearthfire Gala. "Your Grace, we are here," spoke one of her retainers, the white-haired man of advanced age, to be exact. "Thank you, Sawyer." Altina would acknowledge him with a nod before descending the carriage's steps. Click. Click. Click.

"Oh, how I have longed to partake in another party. And one hosted by the Wizard Queen herself, no less. What an auspicious day today is!"

The duchess twirled in her dress, partly to revel in its construction. The visual stimulation of wind blowing creases into its seams, the slight bounce of the dress as it rides the air — some may think it strange, but Altina had always derived an odd, if not childish, satisfaction from such things.

"My compliments to seamstress Eleanor for her work. Truly an ensemble fit for a monarch, this."

Made of layered fabrics, the dress itself was indeed intricately constructed, a product of hours of meticulous labor. It was purple, and tight at the bottom, which admittedly made it hard to move in, as it forced her legs close together at all times. Still, Altina remained undeterred in wearing it. She'd had it specifically tailored for her figure, after all. This was a challenge, if nothing else, and a mild inconvenience at most.

A distinguishing part of the dress was its train, which hung loosely at the hips. It was translucent as well, to allow full view of the floral, vine-like patterns that were sown into the rest of the dress. Of course, it would not do if she did not wear any armor. She was a socialite second, and the "Valkyrie" first. And so, at her behest, a breastplate was fashioned into a corset. Now the raiment truly captured Altina's essence. With all the elegance of a noble, and all the stoutness of a warrior, she strutted into the castle hall, her steps punctuated by a light but firm tapping.

"Oh, enough of that Lady Justitia. You must have more confidence in yourself. Despite the years, even the curse of age has not dimmed the radiance of your beauty!"

"Suave and polite. For that, you may lay your lips on my hand, Sir Raymond."

Like a fish to water, Altina wasted no time in fraternizing with her fellow nobles, some of whom she had not seen in a while. Lady Justitia was one such individual, and it had been nearly a decade since they'd spoken last, what with the lady's predisposition to illness. As far as her memories could take her, Altina could recall Lady Justitia's presence during her ascension at the latest. Lady Justitia proved to be one of Altina's most ardent supporters then. But obviously, that was long ago. Much too long. Perhaps if the Lady were in better health, there would have been more opportunities for the two of them to keep contact. Regardless, this was the first gala that she had attended since Lady Evelyn's coronation. And Altina would relish in it for as long as she could.

Her son, Sir Raymond, also accompanied the lady. He was like a dog, the lad, always following his mother around. Given her condition, Altina could understand why. If she were to hazard a guess, Sir Raymond was likely opposed to his mother's attendance to the gala. But alas, the lady was stubborn, her spirit as unbending as tempered steel. It is only her body that fails her.

Despite old habits, the little Raymond that Altina teased in the past had undoubtedly grown up. He'd gotten taller, and the fuzz of hair aloft his chin had manifested into a well-combed beard. That said, to bend on one knee to offer her a kiss on the hand... He was still a rascal. This was a truth time did not change.

"It is nice to see the both of you again," she expressed with a genuine smile. However, from the corner of her eye, she could glimpse the Wizard Queen on her throne, along with her advisor and the court mage. Suddenly, the state of euphoria she found herself lost in was broken, sobering her back to reality.

"I'm afraid I must excuse myself."

And so, Altina marched on towards her objective, a smile still tugging at her face.

"Well, that certainly makes two of us, Duchess Agustria!"

As Altina was within earshot, she heard the black-haired woman's comment loud and clear. Seeing a chance to interject, she did just that. "With libations aplenty, it would be a waste to not indulge, even if just a tiny bit, no?" Her lips curled into the slightest smirk at the mention of alcohol.

She unbuckled the blade latched onto her hip. "Since we seem to have all had the same idea, allow me to offer you my gift as well, your Highness." Freeing the blade from its scabbard would reveal its wooden composition. Altina would run a finger through its length. "Crafted only from the most durable of Hickory trees in my garden. Wonderful, is it not, your Highness?"

While the blade was raised up high, sunlight would reflect from its silver trimming. "Calligraphy. Art in its purest form. My servants spent many a sleepless night to perfect this design, you know."

She lowered her head briefly before leveling her gaze at the Wizard Queen. "Though I suppose I cannot assume full credit. I also have Rockhold to thank for providing us with the requisite metals."

A different smile was now plastered on her face, wider than the last. "You can consider this blade a gift from them as well."

One might ask, "Did Altina reference the city of Rockhold as a subtle threat of usurpation?" With the unexpected appearance of Duke Rhinecliff, it would only be rightful, after all. And timely. It is definitely a possibility, of that one can be certain. However, it is also a perspective that is mired in bias.

One could also say she is attempting to proffer up a partnership. Considering Agrovia's ties with the dwarven city, an alliance with Agrovia could also mean an alliance with Rockhold. And having more allies would certainly only benefit the Wizard Queen's cause.

Ultimately, Altina's visage would betray neither.

Friendships wrapped in deception, truth embalmed in the sweetest of lies — such is the nature of the game the aristocracy plays in an attempt to gain power.