Frostfyre

[Oberons Veil]

This is a closed RP between a friend and I. Everyone and Anyone is allowed to spectate and if you have questions about something you are reading or have a pointer, or even a suggestion please PM me.


This is an RP and a World Building all in one.

 

[Karl Dracul]

The cold winds of the night before have mostly died down, leaving not but a gentle icy breeze to torment Alistair as it rose and fell. The sky seems clear and bright blue, with the exception of the occasional fluffy white cloud sweeping gracefully overhead. The snow appears to have depend from the blizzard and has yet to be shoveled from the dirt road they have been following, making it considerably more difficult for Alistair's horse to keep pace with the others.


After spending the majority of the morning on horseback, Alistair starts to wince every time his horse takes a step. Shuffling uncomfortably in his saddle, he continues to shift his weight until he almost loses his grip on the reigns and falls. Quickly regaining his balance and clinging to his loyal steed, he looks around with a rather embarrassed expression hoping no one noticed. Sitting back upright in his saddle, he involuntarily lets out a short groan of pain as he realizes why he almost fell of. His face tenses with frustration and rides up alongside Seraphine, clenching his teeth to avoid crying out in pain.


As he reaches her, he forces a smile which ends up looking rather strained, before addressing her with what little courtesy he can manage. Despite his obvious suffering, her somehow still speaks in his ridiculously eloquent accent. "Kind Princess, as I believe they referred to you, could we perhaps take a few moments to stop and rest? My horse and I have become rather-" *He stifles in pain for a moment, grunting slightly before clearing his through and finishing his sentence* "Fatigued."

 

[Oberons Veil]

His request warranted some gentle laughter from Adela and the other Guardsmen, even a slight smile from Seraphine. She then looked to Adela who looked into the sky and looked around the area as they continued to ride, "Fine," Adela said, clearly frustrated that the boy couldn't keep to their pace that was necessary to reach their destination. The group pulled to the side of the desolate road and dismounted. Adela and the Guardsmen looked around and surveyed the snowy plains before them. Some mountains rose sharply into the sky above in the distance.


Seraphine adjusted her armor some and began breathing steadily as she stretched her muscles. This outlander clearly doesn't know how to ride a fair distance... she thought to herself. To be fair though the Vyridian's learned to ride these distances when necessary and for Seraphine it was rather necessary. Her country was at war, and procuring metals and supplies to fuel that war was essential. As she stretched she flexed her hands a little, and then began to smile as she watched a small ball of fire form in her hand before she dissipated it.


"Allistair, if you are doing better we really should get going," Seraphine said now turning back to her guest. Adela groaned and nodded in agreement. "We have a good few hours ride ahead of us before we stop for the night, and if we don't make it to the Inn before sunset Adela will have a fit." She said laughing and poking fun at the Knight Commander who was not in the least amused. "We need to be in Vyridia in a week and in the Imperial City in a little bit longer than that." She said not really detailing why but making sure the urgency was clear.

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair looked up at the Princess from feeding his horse a carrot with an expression of great concern. He let out a long, sustained and tired sigh as she finished her sentence, looking down the road with a forlorn stare. The horse finished the end of the carrot off and he stroked it gently on the mane. Curse these strange folk, curse them and their invulnerable crotches. He thought bitterly to himself as he adjusted his breeches and loosened some of his armor slightly. He detected the traces of urgency in her voice, yet still looked as if he was going to protest for a moment.


He glanced at the Knight Commander with a loathsome stare while deeply contemplating his options, eventually groaning when coming to the conclusion that he had no real choice. I'd have been better off getting ripped apart at the first inn. He reflected, responding to Seraphine in a rather dissatisfied, yet quietened tone. "I suppose we had better get going then." He spoke slowly as he mounted his horse, flinching greatly as he slumped into the saddle. He sat upright in his saddle, brushing his fringe out of his eyes and waiting for the others to set off once again.

 

[Oberons Veil]

As the group set out they had to pick up the pace since the rest was not actually apart of the plan. Though they moved into an area where the road became more level, and became cobblestone rather than dirt (more like mud) allowing for more even and ease of a ride. They passed a couple small farming villages that were holed up and the chimneys billowing smoke. Seraphine was sure Allistair was having a hell of a time and she beckoned to him, "Allistair catch," She said tossing him a piece of soft leather, once he caught it she smiled and motioned for him to put it beneath his crotch. It was something of a trick to ease long rides.


A few hours later they came to their destination for the night, a large city built into the base of the mountains. Half appeared outside and half appeared inside the mountains. The guards on the massive black stone walls opened the gates seeing the banner of the Vyridian Princess. The banners flying above the city were of a white swan on a blue black ground. Seraphine turned to Allistair, "Welcome to Dol Teris, an allied city of Vyridia." She said happily with a bright smile. They proceeded from the lower level through three more walled tiers before coming to the gate that led to the Ruling District which was housed inside the mountain for added protection. They dismounted and handed their horses off to a fine looking stable. The large mithril gates to the interior opened with a large grown and the glory and splendor of Dol Teris was clear. They walked along the ornate bridge that led to the interior city. There seemed to be an abundance of natural light streaming in from somewhere but when one looked up it was impossible to identify where.


The group wandered around for a bit passing through the second to last walled tier, into the wealthiest district where vibrant markets, temples and other ornate and beautiful buildings were housed. They came to a town house of sorts that was ornate and as rich as any other, this happened to be owned by the Princess' family. "Allistair this is my home in this city, and it will be our home for the next couple days while we rest and prepare for the next leg of the journey." She said smiling and opening the door to the house. It was large, and spacious granting enough privacy if one so desired. "You can stay in any of the rooms, won't really matter which, you are also welcome to wander through the city, just make sure to let one of my guards know where you plan on being." She said happily rubbing her rear a little as it was sore as well. Adela was discussing security with the Guardsmen and some guards who had come when they saw the Princess' standard. She was well known here and very well loved, a figure of hope some said and others uttered that she was their Goddess incarnate, though she typically just kept to her self and acted as kind as ever. "Anything you need at the moment Allistair?" she asked kindly.

Spoiler

http://features.cgsociety.org/newgallerycrits/g76/294876/294876_1257800277_large.jpg

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair seemed a little dazed by how amazing such a strange place was, he remained in silence for a moment until he came to his senses slightly. He spoke in a somewhat distant tone, as though his mind is a world away from his current situation. "Everything is-" He paused while lost in though then continued in the same faint voice as before. "Perfect." Alistair, what in the name of Aerion almighty are you doing? Focus. He suddenly shook his head and looked around him, as though he had just been dreaming or in some strange trance. Now you've embarrassed yourself. He reflected prancingly, quickly trying to think up a response.


Reverting back to his highly aristocratic voice, he spoke rapidly, though with a courteous slant on his already flattering accent. "Yes, everything is quite perfect, thank you. I shall be sure to let you know if I have need of anything." He spent a moment contemplating what he could possibly need. You still don't know a lot about these people, Alistair. Besides, isn't looking around the reason you traveled here in the first place? He hesitated, realizing that he was mocking himself but quickly getting distracted, glanced at the door momentarily. His eyes lit up with curiosity at prospect of finally getting to see some of the culture of the more northern kingdoms. This place must be full of answers, but I have so many questions and I fear that what I may not learn of this 'Vyridia', may not be enough. He though as he considered the question.


"For now, is it alright if I have a look around the city?" He asked rather excitedly, before quickly remembering his status and who he was in the company of. "As appreciative as I am of your generous hospitality, I have an itch to explore this strange and beautiful place. Afterall, you know that curiosity is what has driven me this far." The last sentence, he spoke with a considerably warmer tone than he started with. He placed polite emphasis on the word 'generous' while smiling warmly in an attempt to reciprocate Seraphine's seemingly less hostile disposition than before. Look on the bright side, Alistair. Even if the locals don't love you, the princess is certainly being courteous. Alistair had never really understood why he felt the need to make fun of himself in his head, but this time he seemed to be making sense. Why would she suddenly start being so friendly? He asked himself, as if expecting to actually receive a useful answer, to which he replied. You're going insane Alistair, you should stop having conversations with yourself like this. He seemed to get lost in this conflict with himself, becoming totally oblivious to what was going on around him.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Seraphine turned back to him and smiled, "Most certainly, you are not a prisoner." She said jokingly, though in her mind she wondered if that is how he felt, since they had pushed him so hard today and would be doing the same for the next couple weeks. Even when they got to Vyria he would still be ushered around and more or less controlled until he met with the Emperor, her father. "I would recommend the garden District," she said smiling and thinking of all the plants and flowers that grew all over the houses and shops and on the sides of the streets in that portion of Dol Teris, it reminded her of Vyria's Garden District.


"Just be back when the City Clock tower strikes eight, that's when the curfew for non-Terisian nobility starts in this district." She added and went back to taking off her armor and such. Once he was gone, she slipped into a hot bath to relax, which was scented with rose oil. Afterwards she donned a really lavish blue ball gown, and styled her hair accordingly. Seraphine had neglected to tell him that there was a ball tonight at ten that would last well into the early morning. She was a guest, personally invited by the King of Dol Teris. She had a plus one and was unsure if he would go with her. In the room where he had left his things she placed an invitation to the ball, which stated that the holder of the invitation was her plus one. She penned a not and placed it there as well. It read: "Allistair, I am sorry for not telling you sooner, but tonight there is a ball hosted by the King of Dol Teris and a longtime friend of my father's. That is why we had to ride so hard today, so I could attend this. Under my note is an invitation for whomever I choose to be my plus one. If you so wish, Adela has arranged for only the finest clothing to be laid out on your bed, and for one of the household guards to escort you to the Castle if you do choose to come. If not then there is little lost and you must not worry about that. Farewell and I hope to see you there.


With High Regards,


Seraphine Altariel Vinaerys,


First Princess of the Vyridian Empire,


Crown-Princess of Vyria,


Knight of the Golden Seraph."

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair raised an eyebrow at the through of being trapped by a curfew. Why would a place like this impose a curfew? There's something I'm not being told here. He thought as he nodded and smiled. "I'll make sure to be back on time then." He said almost jokingly as he exited through the front door. Something about the city made Alistair feel quite insecure. Whether it was the way this district was seemingly bright as day when they had clearly entered into a mountain earlier, or whether it was the fact that Seraphine had suddenly started acting all friendly upon entering, Alistair could not tell, but it made him uncomfortable. The air in this district was sweet, Alistair detected the scents of several familiar flowers along with some other rather exotic one that seemingly covered the markets and buildings. As Alistair wondered through the streets, he carefully eyed the wealthy Terisians as they shuffled about in their rather extravagant attire. Looks like the southern kingdoms got the worst deal. How can these people live like this when so many struggle to even survive the winter? He pondered the thought for a moment, thinking back to what Seraphine had said earlier. The Vyridians must have something to do with all of this. If the Khyrahns had the ingenuity to carve cities out of a mountain, they would long since have unified. Deciding to brush the thought aside, he almost walked into an elderly couple (both of whom totally ignored him as they drifted past, not even glancing aside as he darted out of the way) from his lack of concentration and resolved to focus.


As he continued on along the streets, he surveyed the numerous markets, contemplating whether or not it would be worth visiting one in search of a gift for Seraphine. Even if he didn't entirely trust her, Alistair decided it would be impolite not to. Selecting one of the more luxuriously furnished marketplaces, he strode casually past as seemingly endless sea of stalls. Each stall seemed to have a unique cloth roof sheltering its wares, some of which were beautifully decorated in an array of intricate patterns and strange colors. There were sellers with weapons, armor, food, cloths, practically anything Alistair could consider buying, even a few things he would never have even contemplated purchasing. On his way, he passed a stall selling an array of rather bizarre looking items. On closer inspection, none of them seemed to have any relation to eachother at all, the seller didn't seem to show much promise either. He looked like even more of a stranger in these than Alistair, tall, bald, dark skinned and wrapped in an exceptional, flowing red robe trimmed with cloth-of-gold. He immediately noticed Alistair eyeing him with intense curiosity and beckoned him to come over in an accent he could barely understand.


The strange man smiled at Alistair as he slowly edged closer, waving him to come to his stall (which seems to be being ignored by all of the aloof nobles). He spoke in a very deep voice which didn't help his incredibly strong accent, but Alistair understood him well enough. "You there, outsider. I have what you need, right here." Alistair gave him a somewhat sympathetic glance and paced the rest of the way over, pretending he hadn't already looked over the various trinkets and jars that littered his stall. Looking up from the various objects, Alistair gave the man a courteous smile and addressed him in his rather aristocratic tone. "And what is it that you think I need, stranger?" The man was rather surprised at Alistair's well spoken manner, but answered with great enthusiasm at his curiosity. "Here, right here, any outsider in this town needs this." The man gestured almost exaggeratedly towards a small, unmarked vial of pale pink liquid. Alistair carefully picked it up, the man smiling and nodding to him as he eyed it with great interest.


The glass vial seemed plain enough in its oval shape and spherical silver lid, but its contents seemed to fizzle slightly as he gently shook it in his hand. Looking back up at the man, Alistair smiled again and asked in an inquisitive tone. "What exactly is this? Am I supposed to drink it?" To this, the man suddenly started shaking his head and waving his hands. "No no no, no drink. You wear." He said, gesturing for Alistair to pour some of the liquid into his hand and rub it into his neck and wrists. Giving the man a rather puzzled stair, Alistair copied the his actions and applied a small amount of it to both areas, rubbing it in gently. Alistair instantly smelled what he could tell to be a dozen different flowers and other scents he simply couldn't place, all at once. It was as if he had just stumbled into a florists and fallen knocked the stands on top of himself, spraying petals everywhere. Why does this seem familiar? He asked himself, reflecting back to when that happened to him as a child.


The man seemed ecstatic at Alistair's reaction, nodding and smiling widely at him. He spoke a few words in a tongue that made no sense to Alistair, although it was beautiful to hear in his deep, booming voice, before reverting back to the common speech that most Khyrahns used. "Yes, yes outsider, you get all the ladies now." The comment made Alistair stop for a moment. Speaking of ladies. "I'll take it, do you have anything similar for ladies? Something special perhaps?" Alistair asked, almost as enthusiastic as the man had been a few moments ago. He smiles and nods his head as he responds with a strong sense of self assurance. "Ahhh, you see? I know what you need, Kha'jiiah always know what you need." He ducked down behind his stall for a moment, then returned with a gorgeously carved crystal vial in the shape of some strange bird Alistair did not recognize. The man pushed it into Alistair's hands and nodded to him. "Yes, see? What you need, for the ladies." Alistair couldn't help but appreciate the Kha'jiiah's over-enthusiasm, considering he was the first person in Khyrah to actually greet him warmly. He responded in a grateful tone, almost unable to hold back how much the man's accent made him smile. "Thank you, Kha'jiahh, this is very beautiful. May I ask how much all of this will cost?" I think I've found my new favorite stall. He thought as the man replied to him in his jovial tone. "I make you special deal, no lover should smell as bad as you, outsider. Fifty gold for the Silarih, the Israx you have for free." Alistair placed the two vials in his backpack and reached into his pockets, pulling out his black velvet purse. He carefully counted out fifty gold pieces and slipping an extra one in discretely, he placed the rather large pile of coins in the mans box of funds.


Grinning, he thanked the man for the gifts and went to walk away from the stall. He got no more than a few steps away before the man called him back in a rather urgent tone. Alistair, almost sprinted the short distance, nearly tripping into the stall before the man caught him and stopped him from doing so. Kha'jiahh smiled and placed a gold coin in Alistair's palm, speaking in his knowing voice. "You pay too much outsider, I give you good deal." Alistair rolled his eyes and shook his head, responding with courteous sympathy to the man's seeming lack of understanding. "No, no, you take it. I want to pay extra." He shakes his head at Alistair and speaks in the same tone as before. "Why pay more if I give you discount of more? Use your head outsider, if want more coin, I make you pay for both hmmm?" Alistair knew he was right, inside he started kicking himself for being so stupid. Of course, how could you have not seen that? Its so obvious. Smiling at Kha'jiahh, he begrudgingly pocketed the coin and thanked him again. The man shook his head knowingly at Alistair, as one would do to a child.


Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Alistair continued on through the market, ignoring most of the other stalls who's owners gave him condescending looks. They probably think you're common filth from the looks of you. He thought bitterly as he exited the market.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Seraphine was ready and Adela was even wearing a dress. The pair were escorted by eight guards all wearing really fine uniforms and carrying very ornate but extremely lethal weapons as they proceeded to the Castle that over looked the entire inner city. People were shuffling about through the city some wearing fine clothing and heading towards the Castle as well. Others were wearing simple clothing, still fine just not Ball attire and they were likely heading home before the Ball because of the Curfew. The above the city was becoming more dim and changing hues as the sun was setting. Seraphine, Adela and the guards were moving through the city slowly but at a pleasant pace, so as to arrive a little before the Ball started. She was the Guest of Honor so it was rather important to be there before most of the other guests.


The Castle was massive, and looked like a Citadel of sorts rather than a Castle. An architectural masterpiece, built into the Mountain and yet looking as though it was outside of one. Great windows on the top level were where the Ball was being held. The Grand Hall looked like a Basilica of sorts with many windows and was on a platform with an outside courtyard balcony that held small gardens and trees. The group made their way through the Castle with escorts until they reached the entryway to the Grand Hall, the King of Dol Teris was waiting. His magnificent robes and attire would no doubt be seen all evening as he was a very extravagant man, with a magnificent personality, that was compassionate yet strong, determined yet cautious, and gregarious yet scholarly. "Seraphine, my dear you have grown since last we spoke," He said smiling and kneeling to her. The King kneeling caused many aristocrats who hadn't recognized her to immediately do the same as was required. Seraphine smiled and took his hands. "Your Grace, you know we only talked a month ago and I have not grown in years," she said laughing. The King stood and smiled with a big grin, his beard was full and with hints of grey. He was a rather plump man in his later years, though he had been the most eligible bachelor in his youth. His deep green eyes and black hair made him seem younger than he was. "True true," he spoke his tone more sage like now, "Seraphine my dear you have known me all your life and yet you still call me Your Grace, please call me Arenor. You know that is what I prefer," He said his smile genuine and his tone pleasant. She nodded and smiled at him her eyes lighting up a little, "Only for this night Arenor, then I will go back to saying Your Grace." She said pleasant. They shared a few more minutes of idle chatter about her missions in the south and how fruitless they had been.


Soon though she moved inside the Grand Hall, she was struck by its immense beauty every time she was here. Beautiful hand carved stain glass windows, statues and mosaics all throughout. The lavishness of the Grand Hall beckoned to the opulence of the Old Empire, and fair enough that is to whence it was dated. Seraphine went about the room smiling and nodding to those nobles that bowed or curtsied before her. She may have been only a Princess back home but here she was the Imperial Liaison.She found her way to the balcony and then to the edge that overlooked the city. Smiling with the slight breeze and the setting sun above, this would be an interesting evening.

 

[Karl Dracul]

Upon exiting the market, Alistair noticed how late it was from the way the light changed inside the vast cavern. That can't be a natural occurrence. He thought to himself before realizing how late it was. Alistair, you need to get back. What would your parents say if you were torn to pieces because the guards mistook you for a commoner? He hadn't thought about that actually, as a matter of fact, he hadn't even thought about his parents at all. Brushing the thought side before he got distracted, he quickly crossed the street, briskly heading back the exact way he came. Along the way, he noticed some of the more wealthy Terisians in rather splendid garbs, gracefully travelling in the opposite direction to him. This must be when they all come out, after the 'outsiders' have been swept off the streets. As he eventually reached the house, he stumbled in through the door, calling out to announce that he was back. When there was no response, he trudged up stairs to his room, brushing his left hand through his hair. He exhaled deeply with exhaustion, pondering the events of today. A good lie down will settle your nerves, Alistair. Thinks will look up for you, you'll see.





As he entered the bedroom, he glanced around at the almost excessive furnishings. Every item of furniture seemed to be beautifully carved with meticulous detail, inlaid with numerous expensive metals and precious stones. The fabrics were all bright and finely stitched, as though everything had been crafted by the finest hands. Even the window overlooking his bed was a strange colored glass that Alistair recognized from wondering the wealthy district. Don't these people believe in humility? He contemplated as his eyes darted over to his bed. Laid out for him were some extravagant clothes, the likes of which Alistair had not seen since he left home. Eyeing them suspiciously, he also noticed a note left lying on top of them next to a roll of parchment bound by a blue ribbon. He moved over to the bed, reaching to pick up both the message and what looked to be some kind of important document from the looks of the seal.


Taking a moment to read over the message while walking over to his neat pile of belongings, he reached down with his right hand, feeling around for his concealable dagger. Just after he had finished reading the letter, his hand found the scabbard and yanked it out from under his clothes. So, Alistair. The question is, are you going to this ball? He asked himself, brooding over the wording of the note. Another voice suddenly sounded in his head, seemingly arguing with the first. Sure, that explains why they forced you to ride so far. However, you're smarter than this Alistair, nobody just simply 'forgets everything' and becomes so warm all of a sudden. There must be more to this, we should-. The first voice cuts in, much more stern than its usual sarcastic tone. Nonsense, the boys a charmer. Don't listen to that imbecile, Alistair. She's being nice because you're a pleasant, handsome young man. Maybe Kha'jiahh was right to sell you that perfume, eh? Alistair could feel the second voice about to interject before he was abruptly startled by the door flinging open.


Alistair jumped up and went to draw his dagger, but stopped himself when he saw the person entering. He threw the dagger aside with embarrassment, and in stepped a tall, slender figure. The household guard worse a beautifully crafted full set of plate armor, tinted to almost the same azure color of the clothes laid out on the bed. This must be your 'escort'. The cynical voice taunted as Alistair shook his head and stood upright. He eyes the guard, screening over his fare features and strangely curved armor. Vyridians certainly do things differently to everyone else on this worthless rock. He reflected sourly as the guard eyed him up as well. After a few moments silence, the guard uttered a brief command in a smooth, yet authoritative tone. "Get dressed, you're going with the Princess if I have to drag you there myself." With that, he promptly exited the room, closing the door behind him. Alistair childishly made a face at the door and turned to the neatly laid out clothes waiting for him on the bed. He slipped into them, taking a moment to appreciate the intricately woven patterns and cloth-of-gold stitching that trimmed the entire outfit, including the breeches. Hastily lacing up his rather opulent, long sleeved doublet with his left hand, he took a moment to brush through his hair to neaten it up with his right.


Having finished dressing he quickly stumbled over to his belongings, pocketing the invitation before doing so. He pulled out both of the vials he'd bought earlier, applied some of the oil that Kha'jiahh had given him, pocketed the gift for Seraphine and promptly exited the room. He only managed a few steps before being startled by the guard, who had been waiting for him right there behind the door. Alistair glared at him slightly and scalded him in a mildly serious tone. "If you sneak up on me like that again, I'll spray you with with perfume." He said almost jokingly, much to the guards dissatisfaction. The two of them headed out into the streets without another word, making their way over to the Castle were the ball was being held.


Alistair gazed in awe at the simply astounding structure for a brief moment, before being ushered along by the guard. As they passed through the entrance, the guard snatched the invitation from his pocket and handed it to one of the Terisian guards, who looks at the unbroken seal with suspicion. Oh divine Aerion save me, I forgot to open the invitation. He thought, wondering how he managed to forget such a simple task. The Vyridian guard stood impatiently, giving Alistair a glance of frustration upon realizing the mistake. Luckily, the Terisian didn't seem to care much, he broke the seal and checked the invitation, handing it back and nodding both of them through. Once inside the Great Hall, Alistair immediately started surveying the crowds to see if he could spot Seraphine among the sea of guests.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Seraphine was beckoned by Prince Julien to rejoin the festivities inside the Grand Hall. She moved with her dress ruffling lightly and she fixed her tiara which she had taken off. Delicately placed strands of hair were draped in front of her hair but everything else was styled into a lovely up do. Seraphine's ears were pointed, like all Vyridian pure bloods. They were the descendants of the Vyrion Empire which was ruled by the High Valir, one of the seven Alven races. The most ancient of races, far older than humans and Dwarves or any of the others. She gracefully walked into the Grand Hall and nearly all at once the Nobles who noticed started to bow or curtsy which caused a ripple effect throughout the entire room as others realized what was going on and who had just entered. A herald stepped forward near her and blew his trumpet garnering everyone's attention. "Announcing her Imperial Majesty, Seraphine Altariel Vinaerys, First Princess of the Vyridian Empire, Princess of Vyria, Governor of the Rho, Governor of the Aetian League and High Justicar of the Goddess Rin." He said causing everyone to acknowledge the power and true might of her entity. She smiled as everyone returned to dancing and talking among themselves. Seraphine just stood idle and made small chatter with countless nobles.

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair stared at her in awe as the Princess entered the hall, performing a small, courteous bow along with the others. She's a keeper Alistair, you lucky bastard. Maybe you should be honest with her. Besides, the likelihood of you ever seeing home again is second to none, and you don't meet 'that' every day do you? The mocking voice taunted Alistair as he smiled involuntarily at seeing her. After a few moments, he snapped out of his near-trace when the household guard placed his hand on his shoulder with a slap. "Go over and talk to her." He uttered, in a hushed yet still commanding tone. Alistair frowned at him but found himself wondering over in her general direction anyway. Looking rather awkward among the crowd of strange Terisian nobles, he wonders past most of them, meriting a few strange glances. None of them seem to have ever seen an outsider of his kind before, which didn't do much for Alistair's nerves. Concentrate Alistair, just go over to her and talk. That's all you need to do. You've talked to thousands of people before, why should this be any different? His head didn't seem to be giving the best of advice, which led him to ponder his sanity for a moment, until he realized he was about to walk into a rather extravagantly dressed couple.


Narrowly avoiding both of them, he shook his head and continued over to were Seraphine was standing, dodging his way slightly awkwardly through endless crowds of the well-to-do of Dol Teris, most of whom ignore him or give him intriguing stares. When he eventually reached her, Alistair tried to catch her eye before approaching her while smiling warmly. Oh, suddenly decided she's not so bad after all have we? Alistair you- He brushed the cynical voice aside, trying to focus on getting her attention. Enough of that for now, I can argue with myself later. He asserted, suddenly realizing that he was talking to voices in his head, which really didn't help matters at all.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Seraphine was locked in a discussion with Lord Iroh and King Aerenor, both of whom were discussing incursions into Dol Terisian Lands as well as into the lands of the entirety of the Aelian League, which Dol Teris proudly led. Lord Iroh was wearing a very ornate military dress uniform that was white with epaulets of gold. Many medals and ribbons from his four decades of service hung proudly on his breast. A ceremonial sword at his hilt. Clean shaven but his hair was grey as possible. Lord Iroh had a raspy voice, from all the yelling he did in the Dark Wars which eventually strained his vocal cords and called irreparable damage. "Milady, the Aelian League will be holding a War Council in two days will you please stay and take part?" Iroh asked seemingly a little desperate for her to be there. King Aerenor grimaced a little, but kept quiet otherwise. This girl holds all of our futures in her hands. She stays, and hears of our plights against the Kingdom of Baenor then maybe.... just maybe the Empire will help us. The King thought to himself. For a moment Seraphine thought she saw Allistair, but she was sure it was someone else, that was until some people moved out of the way and she made eye contact with him. "Allistair," She said assertively to silence Iroh and Arenor. The two turned to face the boy.

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair gave the crowd that appeared to be watching him a bit of an awkward glance for a moment. Oh come on, you can do better than that. Man up Alistair, your parents would be ashamed of you! He smiled, nodding his head courteously at the Princess. Summoning what was left of his pride and courage to stand with his noble stature, he greeted her in his excessively formal native accent, speaking with the utmost eloquence. "Your Imperial Majesty, it is with most extensive gratitude that I do humbly accept your offer of accompanying you to this event. However, I must confess to being a stranger in these lands and therefore, somewhat unfamiliar with the local customs. Hence my rather slow arrival, it is a most fashionable thing to do in my home province, though it does not so much seem the case here. I trust you will forgive me if my lateness comes across as discourteous?" He almost gave away a brief smirk, quickly stopping himself before his face so much as twitched away from his formal smile. Well played Alistair, you may not look the part but this will have to do. Just don't give too much away, remember your promise. He'd never really given much thought to upholding the vow he'd taken upon leaving with the expedition, but being here with Seraphine made him contemplate going back on it. As much as you should be ashamed of yourself for considering it, I don't blame you. None of these people have any idea who you really are, but its best to keep it that way. If nothing else, your parents got that part right.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Seraphine smiled at his greeting and apology, "You are not in your realm Allistair," she said fake chiding him. "You may do as you wish here, enjoy yourself and make conversation with the nobility of this land. Or you could partake in this discussion Lord Iroh has been talking with me about." She said smiling, though Iroh seemed to frown. King Arenor smiled, "You sir, are a noblemen but what land you belong I do not know. You must inform us, my curiosity is piqued," He said eliciting a nod from Lord Iroh and from Seraphine. No one had mentioned that this man was the King of Dol Teris and the current leader of the Aelian League of Cities. Seraphine had been wondering about where exactly Allistair came from and why he was here, she knew he wasn't being honest about his reason but she was too polite to ask. Though her father would not be nearly as welcoming or as polite in those terms as he had a distrust from Outlanders.

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair hesitated for a moment, considering the question being posed to him. Well, technically you don't have to tell them everything. They just want to know were you're from, right? He gave a charming smile to the King, unaware of who he was exactly. He spoke in his native accent in response to the question, trying desperately to avoid reverting to the strange mix he'd developed with the Khyrahns. "I traveled here with an expedition from a mighty civilization that spans far to the East, beyond the shattered islands your people refer to as the 'Vale'? Is it? Well, none the less, the expedition to set out to see if the area could be surpassed without travelling by land. You see, until very recently, my people had assumed there was no possibility that any sapient species could exist beyond such a monstrous land. Though, I am sure most of them would be pleasantly surprised to find such wonderful cultures, just out of our reach." A harmless lie, none of these people could possibly know what your people are truly like, could they? Besides, you know who the last civilization to expand this far were, the Sa’iivik came long before Ahryl was even settled. Stop worrying about it. Alistair knew all too well that his own people, although nothing close to the terrible Sa'iivik Empire, were far from loving towards new cultures. He didn't care though, all of that was behind him. He went to continue his thought, but for a moment his eyes turned to Seraphine.


Can't take your eyes of her, can y-. He abruptly cut the mocking voice off and finished speaking with great enthusiasm. "In fact, just considering that I've not only discovered an entire continent, but also another Alven race is rather exciting." He couldn't help but glance at her again. "Especially given how polite and hospitable the people here seem to be, considering that I'm an outsider and the first of my kind to travel this far. I would have understood more if you had found me strange rather than curious, my lord." He couldn't really hide how proud he was of himself, even if he hadn't actually traveled here to discover new lands like his companions, there was something special about this place, probably because it wasn't his home. Even if you hate the weather, hate the locals and hate the look that noble is giving you, you have got to admit you've outdone yourself by getting here Alistair. Your parents would either kill you or shower you with joy. While he was considering his achievements, something subconscious drew him to Lord Iroh's eyes, they seemed somewhat cold and Alistair instantly began to dislike him. He could sense something was off , Ahyrlians were renowned for their cynical sense of inevitable conflict.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Seraphine was a bit puzzled. The Alven races were old, very old but they were also all known. All of the Alven races resided or had once resided in and on Nemora and the continent to the south and west, called Akaron and Caladon respectively. While she thought about what he had said Lord Iroh decided to interject now, "You come from East of the Vale you say?" He said, his voice cold and bitter not caring to be hospitable in the company of the King or the Princess. "You really are an outlander," he said firmly causing a few distasteful looks from other nearby nobles. "Your people are known here, as ruthless, cruel and oppressive. Stories come to us from the Islanders of the Vale. The people you call savages, they were once apart of the Vyrion Empire, until your people or people from your lands cursed them." Iroh said angrily. It was true, the people of Nemora strongly regarded the lands East of the Vale to be ruled by corrupt peoples. At least that is what the Myths of Old said. Not many accepted them because many believed the Vale impenetrable but.... some rumors circulated that had not always been the case. This situation was tense and it was likely to get more so depending on how Allistair responded.

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair looked rather puzzled at the situation. How in Aerion's glorious name could he- No, its impossible. Unless, wait, is the thinking of the Sa'iivik? What a fool, how do these people even create false sunlight indoors without knowing basic history. "With all due respect, good sir, I have absolutely no idea what you are referring to. The Ahrylian people have never-" He stopped himself, realizing what he had done. Alistair you fool! Why do you let your temper bother you so? The voice in his head seemed to exhale with frustration, something Alistair found deeply confusing. The voice continued to instruct him regardless of his confusion. There is no sense stopping in mid flow, tell them the details. Or most of them anyway. Alistair continued talking, clearly a little annoyed and offended at the situation. "-Set foot on this continent before. We traveled south from the great frozen continent when our people were the last Alven race to break away during the great schism, long after the expansion of the Sa'iivik Empire who are to date the only known race of humanoids to have crossed the Vale, apart from myself. If you do not believe me, anyone who speaks the ancient tongue of the first Alven peoples, can tell you that Ahryli translates literally as 'Young Alven'." He finished his thought rather sternly, eyeing the noble with great contempt. I really shouldn't have told them that, next they'll go asking about who I am to these 'outlanders'.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Ahryli, Seraphine thought to herself. That name hadn't ever been said to her when she was young. To her those kinds of Alven kin didn't exist. It was hard to believe especially because Allistair didn't look Alven aside from his fair complexion which a noblemen wouldn't be too hard pressed to have. "Right, as if there were another Alven Race, seven are all that were and now you are saying there is an eighth in that hostile, barbaric and terrible land far to the East past the vale? Ha you really are daft," said a noblemen nearby. It caused some others to laugh as well. Seraphine and King Aerenor were not laughing and not even smiling, the information Allistair had just said was rather concerning. Another race of Alves that was attempting to make it through the Vale was.... concerning. The legends of old spoke of an ancient civilization that broke through the Vale and laid waste to most of the Eastern Coast of Nemora and the Kingdoms and Cities within. That was until the Nemoran Peoples rallied behind a Coalition banner and beat back the invaders. That war nearly cost Nemora everything.


Seraphine and King Aerenor seemed to just be in a sort of daze as they each thought of how to respond to Allistair's claims to be from a Civilization in the East. This... this boy can't be Alven. There are only seven. Seven children of the Gods. Seven who rule the lands of the West. Seven who are protected by the Vale. Unless.... well he does know the Ancient Tongue and only Alven children know of that... though mainly only we High Valir now, and maybe some of the Runir and Vulnir. Seraphine was immersed in her thoughts wondering if he could be telling the truth or not. "Allistair you say you are Alven and yet you are missing the most Alven trait that the Seven Kin all have." She said motioning to her ears. They were pointed quite significantly, and even Half-Alven had some point to them. "What Order are you?" She asked wondering what Order of Creation the Ahryli fell into. The High Valir was first born children of the Gods, High Alves who were the best magi in all of the world. The others quieted down as they awaited the new information about this new race of Alves.

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair grimaced with disdain and disgust at the laughter and mocking from the Terisian nobility. Primitive cultures reject what they do not understand, that is why they must be subjugated and colonized. Several of Alistair's facial muscles twitched at the thought of his father's stern, emotionless voice. These savage, half-breed filth, 'dare' to mock an Ahrylian! Raise your armies, Alistair, teach them proper courtesy. The voice of his father continued to mock him as he eyed the nobles who had laughed at him coldly. Ah, but you left that behind didn't you? You have no soldiers to rally to your cause, no force to march to your aid. You're alone, Alistair. You're alone and you deserve to be, because it is your own pitiful fault. Towards the end of the thought, the voice slowly became Alistair's own, as opposed to that of his father.


Trying to ignore the taunting in his head, Alistair took a moment to consider the situation. What do you care if they don't believe you? Why did you think these 'people' would be any different to the scum of the south. The cynical voice was sounding awfully like his father, Alistair silenced it without allowing it to plead its case further. Well, go on then? Don't be shy now. You chose to listen to me, now you have to take my advice. Tell them the truth, or at least as much as they need to know. The mocking voice made a reasonable point to him. Still better than leaving and returning with an army, which technically would prove impossible because of the Vale. He thought smugly at his father's ignorance. When at last he responded, it was in a tone of great frustration from the accusations and general atmosphere of ignorance. "Assuming your 'seven' Alven races account for your own and another which has yet to be discovered by my people, then that would put us as the eighth Alven race to split away. According to our scholars, the Ahryli were the last to come into being as they traveled east when all others went west, which would also explain why we lack your pointed ears." As he finished speaking, he made sure to take note of the noble who insulted him, memorizing his face, attire, personal belongings and his companions. You will learn not to call Alistair Drasius Elecaris daft, without being taught a much needed lesson in proper courtesy. Alistair concerned himself sometimes, perhaps he really wasn't so different from his parents? He swept the thought of it aside.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Seraphine was offended by Allistair's arrogance, the way he talked, the way he was standing. "Why are you really in our lands? Exploration would have ceased, you would have requisitioned a ship in the south and attempted to sail back home." She questioned no longer buying that he was predominately curious rather than having ulterior motives. "If you are the last of the Alves then you as well would have pointed ears. It is the sign that we are the first race, the first children to walk this world. Our pointed ears, long lives and superior intelligence and skills allow us to create vast civilizations, great civilizations that bring order where there is chaos, hope where there is despair and security where there is only fear. We Alves are not supposed to oppress but instead to liberate." Seraphine chided, earning some nods from the nobles who had yet to mock Allistair, including the King, who now turned to Seraphine, "Milady, your grace and wisdom are bountiful and your beauty unsurpassed." King Aerenor said smiling at Seraphine. "Allistair, you are not in your lands any more, you must accept that returning to your home is likely to be impossible if not incredibly improbable, lest you meet the same fate as your men did." She said her eyes softening as one of her favorite songs began to be played.


The Rains of Fyldor. She began smiling to herself and several young men came over to her seeking her hand in a dance. It was pretty well known by the social elite that this song was one of Seraphine's favorites. The youngest of those seeking her attention was a seventeen year old Sylvir Prince or Woodland Alf. Seraphine looked at the faces of the gentlemen and settled on the Sylvir Prince who courteously bowed. His name was Tylis Amalthir, third son of the King of Vaelenor a Woodland Alf Ream to the north of the mountains that had recently sworn fealty to the Vyridian Empire. She smiled as did he, the pair looked magnificent together, dancing in unison to The Rains of Fyldor. They were talking about something that couldn't be heard beyond themselves and it was causing her to laugh. Everyone who wasn't dancing was looking in awe at the beautiful pairs on the floor. Surprisingly enough all those dancing her Alven, though it was only surprising to an Outlander as in Nemora this song held significance to the Alves of all kinds. Deep rooted in their myths and lore.

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair was suddenly rather confused at the situation. Wait, what? What did you say? You did everything I told you to do. This isn't right at all. Even the mocking voice, which generally outwitted most was slightly baffled. Alistair, they may be able to hear us. This rather sent him into shock, the voice had never referred to itself before. His mind raced as he considered the possibilities of why everyone had suddenly turned hostile, why the voice in his head spoke as if it wasn't his and why everyone seemed to just agree with Seraphine. You should have lied to them, Alistair. They are no different from the southerners, paranoid and disillusion. His thoughts turned briefly to Seraphine, as the cynical voice ranted in his head. How could you possibly be such a fool? Your parents should be ashamed of themselves. She must have some way of hearing this. Furthermore, your lack of perception is simply astounding. Can you not see these people are sheep? She is their Shepard, Alistair, they follow mindlessly. He didn't like that thought, in fact he didn't like what he was hearing at all, from either voice. Will you both kindly be quiet and let me focus. He snapped, slowly coming to his senses as to what was going on around him.


All around him, people seemed to have lost interest in him, focusing on the dance that appeared to be going on to some strange song that Alistair had never heard before. I need to rest, things will seem clearer come the dawn. He decided, turning to leave before noticing the Princess dancing with what he assumed was another Alven noble. Something deep in his thoughts whispered Sylvir, but he chose to ignore it, watching the couple dance for a moment, before quickly turning away. Perhaps I should go back were I came from, or suffer the same fate as my men. I'm certainly not welcome here anymore. He reflected, feeling warmth flooding his cheeks as he started to wonder over to the entrance to the Grand Hall. On his way, the household guard blocked him with his arm, looking at Alistair with his stern expression. "Were do you think you're going? The Princess is back that way." He gestured to the crowd of guests, talking quite patronizingly as he did. Alistair stepped around the guard's hand, hanging his head and pacing the rest of the way out of the castle, and into the night.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Seraphine was enjoying herself and the company of Prince Tylis. He was very handsome with his blonde hair and evergreen eyes. A true testament to the astounding beauty and grace of the Sylvir. Once the Rains of Fyldor ended, Seraphine was feeling more drained than usual, likely from the incessant conversation that Lord Iroh had been pushing all night. With a simple thank you to King Aerenor, Seraphine bid her farewell for the evening once she noticed that Allistair had departed. Accompanied by her guardsmen, Seraphine walked with a brisk pace hoping to see or catch up to Allistair, there was a matter she needed to discuss with him. The small group was going at a rather fast pace causing the armor to rattle just a little. Soon though she thought she could see Allistair and so her guards finally dropped back a bit to give the pair some privacy. "Allistair!" she called out hoping to gain his attention before he walked off too far.


She called out again hoping to stop him, "Allistair please!" she cried out growing a little more desperate. Look what you have done my dear, came the all to familiar voice that occupied the spare space. You should have let me stay in control. He was kind to you, interested in you, and seemingly a bit more... the voice said causing a couple tears to well up in Seraphine's eyes. Darling girl, when will you learn? Hmmm a century or two from now? More broken friendships.... she stopped the voice yelling at it in her mind, Friends? Allistair wasn't a friend he was a tool, one I needed to use to garner support. She said coldly finally coming to terms with her reasons for inviting this Outlander with her to the North. To what? Help your father complete the conquest of the North and turn on to the lands south of the Rho? Inviting more bloodshed, loss, and death. The voice cried out to her sensibility which was cracking under the stress of her mind. Seraphine you need to apologize, for us, all of us. Allistair is a kind person, an exotic keeper, and you hurt him tonight. The voice said chiding her actions.


Finally catching up to Allistair, "I'm sorry," she blurted out without even a simple hello. "It's just your thoughts, I know you were lying about what you were telling us. You weren't here purely for exploration." She said trying to salvage something. "Look I have not been honest either. I need you to come with me to my homeland to help my father finish this bloodbath he started. It's been going on for eighty years and is not ending any time soon with the current pace. I just thought...." she cut herself off not finishing because it wasn't right. "I'm sorry Allistair." She said as a tear rolled down her cheeks. "Please pay little mind to Lord Iroh, he is an old fool who has fought in many wars here in the South to defend the Aelian League... his job is to be paranoid and being told you come from East of the Vale and are an unknown race of Alf... well that would race concerns." She said again trying not to overstep too much. "Please.... I did not mean to hurt you."

 

[Karl Dracul]

Alistair was slightly startled from her coming up behind him in the way that she did. Wait what? Did she just run after you? You lucky son of a- He silenced the voice, listening to Seraphine as she spoke to him. He looked pretty flustered from the looks of his face, his eyes portraying a forlorn stare as they met her own. As she explained further, something deep down inside muttered Thought so. at the mention of his thoughts, but he didn't seem to care enough to acknowledge it. By the time she had finished speaking, he looked close to breaking down there and then. Pull yourself together Alistair, you're an Ahrylian, not some sentimental human. Lying is the first thing you learn 'not' to do to a lady, and it's about time you apologized as well. You should stop listening to the advice of idle thoughts and start acting on your own terms. His mother's voice scalded him, placing great emphasis on the word 'not'. If she cried one more tear, I'm going to have you studying advanced alchemy, which I know you hate by the way, despite your fathers 'fervent' claims, for the rest of your, or my life. Which ever ends last. Her tone started to sound somewhat softer towards the end of her chastising speech, and almost joking when it came to an end.


When at last Alistair did speak, his voice sounded rather lost and dejected. "I shouldn't have lied to you, Seraphine." He said slowly, looking her in the eye as best as he could. "I'm sorry too." After, a moment of silence and consolidating his thoughts, he spoke again, slightly quicker but still very emotional from the sound of it. "Seeing as you can read my thoughts, you probably already know everything about me, but I might as well be honest with you verbally, I owe you that much." Alistair, stop it. Do, not, tell her. His father's voice cut in harshly, Alistair simply ignored it and continued. "My full name is Alistair Drasius, of the Imperial House of Elecaris." His voice turned to bitterness as he uttered the name of his family, who he loathed deeply. "I am the runaway, deranged, coward of a Prince, that abandoned his family and his father's throne and brought great dishonor to the 'noble' Elecaris Dynasty. I'm about as unwelcome here as I would be if I returned to my 'loving' parents." For a moment, he wondered if he had said too much, but his head was swirling and he could hardly stop himself. "I hate this place, I hate the cold, I hate my home, I hate these horrible, unkind people and I hate my family." With that, Alistair started to break down, the voice of his mother let out a tired sigh as his eyes began to water.

 

[Oberons Veil]

Seraphine stood there watching Allistair seem to crumble. She could not help but feel terrible about the reactions of Lord Iroh and the others. What was worse was he would be treated the same at tomorrow's War Council meeting that she absolutely had to attend. "Allistair," She said in the sweetest voice she could muster. "Why did you run away from your home?" She questioned curious as to the events that led to him forsaking his homeland, his family and his people. That was unimaginable for Seraphine, to her she would rather die than do that. He is a traitor... the voice said in her head. Why else would he run away? He must have murdered someone or stolen something. The voice wouldn't stop putting thoughts into her head about what could have happened. Seraphine the voice said in a singsong and disturbing voice, almost as if it was taunting her. She started to pay less and less mind to the voice. "Allistair I can't read everything, I can read some of your thoughts but I have to really really try and it's very taxing." She said making sure he understood that the ability to do so was not something easily done.