Fantasy "The Queen’s ball is tonight, but with this weather will anyone come?" (I see you creepin’, yes you can still join!)

[kath1515]

- Duchess Elizabeth -​

“Truly, I hope your friend Prince Saric arrives safely as well,” Elizabeth responded genuinely after the Princess had expressed her gratitude that the both of them had escaped the cold. She continued, smiling warmly at Princess next to her, “I look forward to the food that he brings, though what has been provided is certainly excellent.“

As their conversation continued, Elizabeth considered the Princess’s offer to help her secure a match. It was a great offer, she hadn’t expected to have the assistance of Princess Adelina when finding a match for herself. The Princess must have connections all throughout court, and with many of the noblemen currently standing in the ballroom. Truthfully though, she wasn’t sure how much interest she’d have in a betrothal if it wasn’t for the situation of her duchy. She wanted to be married eventually, of course, but it was all being rushed, which was what was causing her doubts. Ideally, she’d have time to get to know the suitor or at least time to form some sort of real connection. Guiltily, she pushed those doubts to the back of her head, she had a duty to protect her people. And in any case, how could she know that there wasn’t a nobleman here who would completely sweep her off her feet.

The music still masking their conversation, Elizabeth set down her goblet and whispered back to the Princess. “As I’m sure you have noticed this is my first time at the ball. I am in attendance for well…..more diplomatic purposes,” she said. Elizabeth had decided she could trust the Princess, who seemed genuine in her offer to help. It was refreshing, as well, to have someone with whom to share at least a small detail of her situation. Someone who understood her situation. “My parents sent me here with the intention of finding me a match. And if at all possible I would do what I can to secure a betrothal for myself,” she faded off, “In any case, you needn’t worry that I see you as competition.”.

It was the truth. Elizabeth saw no competition in Adelina, she was sure that if the Princess had wanted to marry any of the noblemen in attendance she would have done so. She couldn’t imagine that someone of the Princess’s status had trouble finding suitors, which could only mean that she kept rejecting them.

Smiling gratefully at the Princess she continued, “I would greatly appreciate any help you offer. As this is my first time here, I am afraid that I don’t know many of the other attendees. I am extraordinarily grateful for any introduction or information you could provide. In exchange, I’m afraid there may not be much I can do for you. Though, I would be happy to provide company until your friend arrives safely”. She gazed around the ballroom before turning back to Adelina. “Do you know if any of the noblemen here are intending to make a match themselves,” she asked.

 

[snowstormspawn]

Wymond’s expression softened as Vincent described his ordeals of his life as a lycanthrope. While he himself was not a supernaturally-affected human being, he could relate to the experience of being feared by his comrades. He would never hurt anyone he worked with or was sworn to protect, but those who had seen him on the battlefield knew exactly what he was capable of – that he was not a man to cross or ignore. He was glad to hear that Vincent did have superior senses – these would be extremely useful in the search for any guests who were stranded in the snow.

The guard nodded when Vincent invited him to sign the request and officiate it, leaning to his right to pick up a quill from the stool where the wardrobe attendant had left his list of names and numbers corresponding to items on the shelves. He took the parchment and, using the stool as a writing board, signed his name before handing it back to Vincent. Wymond looked up towards Maris when she looked to him, curious what she was about to say – after all, she had been pacing around the room for a few moments by this point, clearly in deep thought. Was it something he had said? It was.

Wymond’s brow furrowed as she asked for details of the “mental fog” situation, and he calmly nodded along as different aspects were brought to light. “Well, as head of the Royal Guard Lady Maris, I can tell you that things have not been functioning the way that they should be. You see, all of my men are aptly trained to follow one routine, and one routine only – this way everything is in the correct place, and they are stationed where they need to be should they be called upon. When something ends up out of place, it sticks out like a sore thumb. I have found men stationed at a former post at sunset when they were meant to leave that post at noon. Even the servants have been affected. In my daily tour of the Royal Chambers, I have noticed the bed
of the princess dressed in the prince's bedlinens. This may not seem out of the ordinary to either of you, but is a huge faux pas - the linens the prince prefers cause the princess to break out in an uncomfortable, unsightly rash."

"So you see, things have been quite strange, and almost upside down in recent days. And none of these occurrences can be explained away as situational stress,'" Wymond explained. "But - I have said enough, we should be on our merry way to rescue who we can from the snow," he said, rising from his chair. He stepped to the very end of the coat room, sliding open a dark oak door to reveal the finest, thickest winter coats the castle had to offer. "Lady Maris, take your pick," he said, stepping aside to allow the woman to choose a coat that fit her first before he chose his own.

Vestige quadraxis201

 

[RayneIlStorm]

As many bustle about the grandiose ballroom, worrying of the frigid snow storm stranding them in the castle or the other guests trapped in the frost outside, not everyone was so concerned with the worries at hand. No, there were at least a handful of blue-bloods congregating 'round the brilliant fireplace catching words rather than ills, sipping at their glasses as they warm themselves by the flames. They chattered and guffawed a each other as they told stories of their travels and affairs. There was one, however, that seemed to stand out amongst the rest.

A man covered from head to toe in varying shades of deep blues. His bronze skin glowing in the fire light as he leaned against the mantle. His thick smoky locks swept to the right as his surgical eyes scanned from one patron to another, watching for tells in their body language. His smirk twitched before he took a drink of his wine. This man, though he stood out, kept himself out of the spotlight, but not too far for he continued to glimmer in its reflections. He add a soft and gentle laugh to the chorus of chuckles and took another sip before pushing himself off of the fireplace.

"Now, this has been all very good an well, my friends, but it is time that I take a look around. You know, perhaps finding a lovely lady to accompany into the night?" The circle of guest erupted into another howl of laughter. One even elbowed the man in the side as they got the idea. "I doubt you'd have any trouble! And if you ever find yourself in the company of too many, you know where to find us!"

Placing his now empty glass upon the mantle, the blue-clad man gave them all a passing smile and excused himself. He slipped into a small group of ladies and duchesses and such and immediately introduced himself..

"My goodness, I can see why you ladies refuse to talk to men! They are absolutely obnoxious with their loudness and terrible jokes." He spoke gently with humor behind his words. A few, if not all, of the women looked at each other and smiled politely.

"Ah, but are you not a man, my good sir?" One spoke up. Another covered her face with a fan and whispered to a woman beside her. The man simply flashed a toothy grin.

"Can a man not admit his own faults? Anyways, I came to have a chat with some of you. I need some time to recover from those others brutes back there. Now tell me, have you heard of-"

 

[snowstormspawn]

Saric was enlightened by the knowledge that the High Lady did not travel, though he did understand - neither did his own father, after all. The Prince could picture himself woring as an emissary, were he not a royal with obligations to travel himself. He had always had that kind of wanderlust and a desire to visit foreign lands. The mission to show support and create healing was certainly a noble, positive one. Saric felt for the members of the group who had ended up trapped in the snow. They were all fine people, he was sure, and he realized the great pain it would cause to not know the whereabouts of his friends. He was quite worried about his own servants who had chosen to remain on the ship, though they had plenty of warmth on the lower decks, which were almost completely insulated in order to keep the ocean's water from trickling in. To attempt to bring them to the castle was much riskier, by far.

"Many of the citizens who made the journey with me are still on board the ship that I arrived with,” he shared after Skalden had recounted the change in the weather his own travel group had experienced. “They have plenty of provisions, oil lamps, and methods of creating heat – I had anticipated Hadria being cold around this time of year, however I could have never dreamed of such an awful storm brewing in the region.” He looked towards the Paladin as he expressed his anger towards whoever was responsible for the storm, if anyone could be held responsible for such an awful thing.

“I do not wish to conspire,” Saric began. “But I do see a situation like this from every angle. And my intuition tells me that this storm is not an error of nature. From what I know your gods, or mine, would never do such a thing. They are far too benevolent. And so I raise the question – are you aware of any gods or faiths capable of bringing about such havoc? I ask as I assume you are far more versed in threats to the natural order of the world than I am.” Aside from pondering that, Saric was asking himself who could stand to gain from forcing a blizzard onto the Queen’s celebration. Any cause of it was hard to think about, because weather was always unpredictable at best. Who knew when the storm would end, especially if someone had intended for it to occur.

GrieveWriter

 

[unfortunatelyhomo]

- 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚 -

As she arrived at the castles front entrance, she felt numb to her core. One could attribute this sensation to the bitterly cold storm that'd nearly thrown her carriage off course. It had almost come out of nowhere, and she was hardly dressed for such weather. The pathways had become slick with ice, and more than once had she found herself tightly gripping her overcoat, knuckles as white as the snow that draped the land around her in a powdery blanket. The cold storm coupled with the building knot in her stomach had made her mute. She hadn't spoken a single word the entire ride, listening to the crack of the stagecoaches whip as he demanded the horses to keep moving. She could not deny, she was nervous beyond belief. As the youngest child, she was never brought to important events like the ball. She would stay at home with her mother, learning proper etiquette and practicing the arts. So to be placed in a new and unfamiliar setting greatly unnerved her. The young princess was snapped out of her thoughts by the voice of her father, King Cassius.

"Amalia? Amalia, are you listening?" He asked, his blue eyes piercing her own. She blinked twice before returning the gaze, correcting her posture. "Yes, Father. Sorry." He shook his head, a signature grin splitting his face. "My dear...you have nothing to be worried about. You've prepared for weeks. The ball is about unity, you'll be surrounded by a multitude of great people, great kingdoms. This is an amazing opportunity." Amalia nodded, visibly exhaling as the carriage came to a full stop. She produced a crisp parchment from inside her coat, the invitation that they'd received from the Queen some weeks back. The stagecoach struggled a bit to open the door for the royals, as ice had seemingly glued the hinges shut. Her father reached over and pushed on the door, the metal finally giving with a sharp crack. Amalia was first to step out of the carriage, smiling politely at the stagecoach, nodding her thanks. She was soon followed by her father, a tall man with a distinguished and proud look about him. He stood tall, shoulders broad, clad in their traditional wear. A pristine white overcoat embellished with medals, a velvet lining, along with three different colored ropes looped around his right and left shoulder. He also wore breeches to match. They indicated his royalty and position in the monarchy. Amalia wore rosy pink colored dress, ruffled at the shoulders. It was lined with small gold medals down the front, along with delicately threaded swirls placed along the bottom of the dress.

He grabbed the parchment from his daughter, to which she felt a massive weight had been lifted from her hands. They were quickly greeted and ushered in, the large doors closing swiftly behind them, officially separating them from the outside world. They were lead into the ballroom, where they could see a few guests had already arrived. For Amalia, it was a lot to take in. So far away from home, everything here seemed unnatural, or out of place. Of course, though, it was beautiful. She'd expect nothing less from Queen Adrienne, all she'd ever heard were good things from her father.

"I'm going to go see if I can find Queen Adrienne and assist with anything. I expect you to stay here and get acquainted with the others. While you're, you are a representation of our kingdom. Make me proud." Amalia knew the last two sentences by heart. She'd heard the speech plenty of times before. "Why can't I go with you? I'm sure I could be of great help, too." He shook his head, his stance firm. "I want you here. I'm more than certain socializing will do you some good. It'll warm you up, too." He gave her a smile before he left, navigating his way through the halls. Without her father, the room seemed to be ten times as big as it had been before.

 

[startergomer]

Walter Blackwood
" " : External Dialogue
' ' : Internal Dialogue

Oh god not again.

"I am so sorry my Lord." Walter made his way off the floor. Standing up, only to bow at the appropriate angle for a lord and raising himself to see the man still leaning against the wall.

"Ummmm......uhhhh....let me help you." Walter helped the man stand up fully. But now, he ws nervous, he had reached over and touched the man again. Whoops. "Ahhh sorry sir. I didn't mean...." A few more apologies and bows as he tried to ramble his way through the awkwardness ensued. After regaining his balance though, Walter began looking around and thinking. It seemed like a few more guests had arrived at the ball than before. They were certainly serving food now so that was a positive.

He had also heard the end of the queens message. Clearing snow. While certainly not glamorous, that was something much more in line with his comfort level. Sadly it seemed like the threat of the storm would have to pass first before such an undertaking was needed. Nonetheless, he made a note to send word to his two guards to prepare and acquire some equipment for the moment they would be needed to help. They could certainly help oversee things and would likely do a good bit of help if looking around the room was any indication.

However, he found himself realizing that he had once again drifted into quietness. He honestly wasn't sure what to do, he hoped that his perplexing of the situation would be missed by the Lord. But he was quiet sure he was wearing a look of slight panic on his face. The only thing to do is try your best, Walter thought. Maybe tonight you'll be able to meet some of those nobles you can write deals with, or maybe get some food. Yes! Theres work to be done. Of course, at that moment the other Lord deigned to say something. Walter could only wince in preparation.

Interactions
Violeteclipse

 

[snowstormspawn]

~Princess Adelina~

Adelina nodded as Elizabeth explained her reasons for being in attendance at the ball - it was exactly what she had expected to hear. The Princess' face brightened as Elizabeth showed that she was interested in receiving her help, and after taking a last sip from her goblet, she handed the empty cup off to a passing servant. It was quite admirable to Adelina that Elizabeth was here to do what was best for her duchy - as someone who had flippantly rejected every man that she had met, she almost couldn't believe it. There was a soft smile as Elizabeth stated there was not much that she could do for her in exchange - Adelina was not looking for a reward of any sort, she could have anything she could possibly want due to her own kingdom's great wealth, but she was happy to have company until the arrival of her friend. Part of her wondered if Westfalia could strike up a trade agreement with Beaumont, to generate an income for the small duchy which would be able to save it. Perhaps there were some precious stones, or geodes hidden away in caves which could be mined and sold for profit. The stones on the small tiara that she wore on her head at this very moment were worth a small fortune already. But Adelina did not have much knowledge of trade and transfers of wealth, so she would be lost on where to begin.

Her expression became thoughtful as she attempted to remember which of the noblemen were searching for a match, or at least, which of the noblemen were single and could be persuaded to commit to an engagement. Adelina twirled a curled strand of hair around her finger as she thought. “Well, let’s see... of the men who are here we have Lord Blackwood I know, but he typically only attends the ball for business purposes. All in all, a fine upstanding person, but a bit lacking in social ability. Not that I should be one to talk,” she added with a slight laugh. The comment was not meant to be an insult at all – in fact the grand majority of the noblemen in attendance had no idea how to even hold a conversation, just like the blessed King of Hadria himself, who was missing the entire event due to being shut away in his bedchamber. “Then we have my brother, the Crown Prince, of course. He is not engaged to be married, though I have no knowledge of whether he is currently in search of a match – we are not exactly on speaking terms at the moment. He has many good qualities, but I must warn you, not the purest of hearts. But if such a thing does not deter you, then I suppose–“

Adelina’s voice trailed off into silence as her bright blue eyes swept the ballroom, and came across a brand new, unfamiliar guest – much like she herself, dressed in shades of blues, but the warm tone of his skin showed that he originated from a foreign land. Something about his appearance struck a cord with the Princess. Due to her later arrival to the ball she had missed the man’s introduction, however, his style of dress pointed to one kingdom only – Calcavia. “I’ve not seen him attend this ball before,” Adelina whispered to Elizabeth as she admired the man’s ability to freely converse with the other guests, like it was easy. It was unusual to see a man of nobility who was so outgoing, so confident and brave, even after a few goblets of wine. The feeling that it gave her to be witness to such a thing? She hated it. “Do you know anything of him, or of Calcavia?” Adelina asked curiously, not even attempting to hide who she was speaking of by turning away.

kath1515 RayneIlStorm startergomer

 

[Vestige]

Maris listened quietly as Wymond gave more detailed information, stranger and stranger still. She hated to think of the bigger problems that any number of small mistakes such as a swapped ingredient could trickle into. Maris shook her head as if to rid herself of those buzzing, unhelpful thoughts, and then nodded at the mention of getting underway, they were wasting time talking about something they currently had little idea of how to reverse.

“You’re right, we can delve into that further after the rest of the guests are safely inside. You can count on my help as well in any endeavors with the situation.” Maris said, her voice took on a cold edge. “Rest assured I am not my brother and won’t vanish as soon as things get difficult.”

She followed him to another door in the closet and eyed its contents. She was glad she hadn’t planned on changing into something more appropriate for the ball until the festivities were well and truly underway, she didn’t mind dresses, she simply preferred to stay clad in her armor and the long gambeson she wore beneath more. Maris plucked out a heavy fur cloak from the wardrobe depths and stepped aside for the men to acquire their own, and settled the added fur onto her shoulders.

“My thanks… Perhaps it’d be wise to bring a handful of these and blankets with us for the stranded guests who may need it, we could load them onto the extra horse.” With a number of the guests yet to arrive, she knew some hailed from lands with much warmer climes, and visiting during the chilly harvests end was a marked difference from an out of place and hellion of a winter storm.

Interactions:
snowstormspawn quadraxis201

 

[unfortunatelyhomo]

- 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚 -

Her thoughts were deafening as she stood at the doors of the ballroom. No amount of practice could have prepared her for this. She saw people of all manner and kingdoms engaging in conversation. She saw bounties of food being served, fine cuisines that had never touched her palette once. The smell was amazing, so tantalizing she almost forgot she'd been standing there like a dressing mannequin, eyes fixated on the plates. Amalia wasn't in the mood to eat, though, no matter how tempting the food may seemed. The knot in her stomach had only grown after her father left. Curious, her pale blue eyes swept the room, and she hardly recognized the figures. Queen Adrienne herself, of course. A young man clad in a range of calm blues, a skin color suggesting his homeland was bathed in sunlight. He must have been from Calcavia. She'd heard little of the location, but from what she could gather, it was beautiful. Two women conversing, one of which she could immediately place as Princess Adelina. All accounts of her were also based off of her father's tales. From his basic description, Amalia could gather that she was indeed the Princess. Her eyes were placed on the young man dressed in blue. Not wanting to interrupt their conversation, nor get caught staring, she quickly gathered herself and placed a warm smile on her face. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, despite the unforgiving storm that raged against the castle walls. Taking her first steps away from the door in what felt like centuries, Amalia made her way over to Queen Adrienne. A few people had already gathered before her. Refusing to come off as rude, Amalia waited patiently for an opening. Bowing formally before she said anything, she kept the smile on her face. It was genuine. She was more than excited to be in the presence of another royalty, especially one of Queen Adrienne's stature.

“Your Majesty! I do hope you’re having a pleasant night despite the ongoing storm. I wanted to thank you for inviting me and my father to the Annual Ball. He's been only once before, but this is my first time here." She said, her voice a gentle soprano. Her words were accentuated with an accent, stemming from the language spoken in Lunora--one that stemmed from French.

(interactions)
snowstormspawn

 

[RayneIlStorm]

As the door of the ballroom opened once again, the blue-clad Calcavian threw an interested glace towards it. When his eyes spotted the woman newcomer, he looked her over from head to hidden toe, taking in what she wore and how she stood. Of course she was another royal, but she seemed to be lost, that or really hungry for she stared at the table decorated with bountiful foods for a while. He watched as her own eyes traveled around the room, and when they met his, he simply gave her a smile and turned back to the group of whispering ladies.

"It seems as though another has entered." He crooned. "Now, I have to ask, have any of you an idea of who this woman could be? Though I have some ideas, it'd be terrible of me to assume." As they had eventually warmed up to the man, the women giggled and gasped.

"Why, it is such an odd thing, Prince Ivera! You seem to know so much yet so little!" Cried one of the women. "Why, the one who just came in is the Princess of Lunora, Amalia Godefroy."

"Oh, I've heard of her!" spoke another woman. "Oh, the poor dear, I heard that her parents, the rulers of Lunora kept her inside all her life like caged bird and then suddenly plucked her out to be an advisory to the next ruler!"

"I've heard that she had never seen the sun before they allowed her out! Oh, how terrible of the king!"

"Now, that does sound terrible, but I doubt that she would be treated so dreadfully." The Prince soothed. Though gossip had some tidbits that he would pay to learn, most of it, he learned, was just wild speculation and wasn't worth a grain of wheat. He was attempting to get something useful, but not much was there. "Though, you said that she was an advisor to the King of Lunora? Maybe I should speak with her myself? We may have similar interests." The Prince pressed a finger to his chin with a smile on his lips.

 

[Saavedra]

The Prince awaited news from his knights about the carriage by the door, but he saw Marcel approach well before such arrangements had been made. He shook his head when the healer asked about it. "We are still waiting."

This was a good chance for the others in the group to have a look at him. Dollan and Riff, the Prince´s two companions, were now able to examine the healer up-close, but they obviously had no opinion of him... at first. Once they were all out in the cold because he had suggested it, though, perhaps they would feel like sharing their view of him. The patrons certainly didn´t like the idea of the Prince going out into such weather. A few asked aloud if it wouldn´t be better to stay inside until the storm was gone. The owner of the establishment appeared again to ask the Prince to stay in the Hand Warmer instead of braving the blizzard. To this, the Prince responded calmly. "I am expected at the Ball. I would not have Their Majesties worry about me when it is only snow and wind in the way."

Though the logic was somewhat sound, the sound of the wind howling and the cold running in under the door made patrons frown and look away. They could not tell His Highness he was making a mistake, even though they very much wanted to, because his argument had a twisted sense of logic to it. Instead, the more carefree among them toasted to his health and a safe trip, and the Prince accepted a few sips of a second drink, as did his companions. No one offered the healer any, though. It seemed the news of him being the reason the Prince was going to face the elements tonight had already made the rounds. All the better a reason for him to leave, perhaps.

It still took a few minutes for one such carriage to be found, and the group moved into the stables to appraise it. They needed no one to tell them to hurry. The weather outside the tavern was extremely unpleasant. Hoods would not stay on heads, and the snow was beginning to pile up, alarmingly reaching up to the Prince´s shins. In a matter of a couple hours perhaps, it may be up to his knees. And in another hour... but what kind of storm could keep up such strength for so long?

The stable doors were closed quickly and with some effort, and a stable boy held up a lamp to offer some light and show them their means of transportation: a dark carriage, no horses attached to it just yet. It was old and roughly made, but seemed relatively sturdy. Perhaps it belonged to a post service, or to a tax collector. The stable boy solved the mystery: a nobleman had owned it once, but replaced it with a fine, more adequate carriage. Everyone could guess it would be something more fragile and gilded here and there, something that probably wouldn´t be comfortable to ride in this storm. But this one? It could fit five, perhaps six people inside. Somewhat snugly, but it would no doubt keep them safe. Garl knocked on the doors, inspected the comfortably thick windows (dust-covered glass, but with a second wooden window to close over it), and checked the wheels. He finally rubbed his beard, unsure. "It looks sturdy enough at first glance, but... I wouldn´t trust the Prince´s life to a carriage that´s been left here for... how long?"

The stable boy shrugged. "I do not know, sir."

 

[kath1515]

- Duchess Elizabeth -

Still standing next to the Princess near the refreshment table, Elizabeth listened as Adelina listed all of the men she knew could possibly be a good match for her. Her eyes swept the room, looking at the noblemen present herself before individually considering the men mentioned by the Princess.

Lord Blackwood. If he was at the ball for business purposes like the Princess suggested it was possible he could be looking for a match as well. She didn’t know much about his lands, she did believe she had heard they were primarily agricultural. Perhaps they would be able to help each other out. Any partnership would significantly lessen the threat to her duchy. His supposed lack of social ability, as Adelina claimed, wasn’t necessarily a deterrent to Elizabeth. It could pose an additional challenge if she intended to pursue him, but it did seem as if most of the noblemen at the ball had no great social ability themselves. If he was indeed a “fine upstanding person”, as Adelina described him, surely they would get along well.

The Crown Prince himself. That would certainly be an advantageous match. Elizabeth doubted that her parents expected her to come home with a betrothal to the Crown Prince of Hadria. It was a match that would save her duchy many times over. However, Adelina’s description of the prince on a more personal level did give Elizabeth pause. The fact that they weren’t on speaking terms, she wouldn’t pry of course, but well, it certainly piqued her curiosity. Many good qualities. Well, that was most of what she could hope for in a match. Not the purest of hearts, however. What could that mean? Would she want to get involved with him if like Adelina said he didn’t have the “purest of hearts”? However, the benefits of marrying the Crown Prince should certainly outweigh whatever his more negative qualities happened to be, Elizabeth thought.

Elizabeth followed Adelina’s gaze to the man currently surrounded and conversing with a large number of guests. A large number of women at that. Responding to Adelina’s question about the man, she said, “I can’t say that I know much about Calcavia, or the prince himself. I have heard rumors that well….his older brother has taken quite ill.” “He does seem at ease amongst the guests”, Elizabeth continued, “Quite observant as well”. “Do you have any interest in conversing with him,” she asked the princess, “I would be happy to go with you should you want to.”

Thinking again on possible suitors for herself she said, “I think I would seek out Lord Blackwood later if I see him in the ballroom. And if you should be inclined to I would appreciate an introduction to the Crown Prince.” “Of course I do not mean to abandon you, at least until your friend, Prince Saric, arrives.”, she said with a smile to Adelina.

Interactions: snowstormspawn

Mentioned: startergomer RayneIlStorm

 

[quadraxis201]

Vincent Hawthorne
​

It seemed to Vincent that Wymond didn't know very much about lycanthropes, which was a bit of an interesting situation. Did the Captain lack knowledge regarding werewolves, too? If so, this was frankly a golden opportunity for Vincent to foster some understanding with someone in a position of power. If the Captain of Her Majesty's Guard himself saw how beneficial supernatural creatures like lycanthropes could be, it would perhaps help to set in motion a better future for them in Hadria.

Once Wymond collected the parchment, signed it, and returned it to Vincent, he stored it back away and followed Wymond over to the oak door, listening to his explanation of the unusual goings-on in the castle. "Hmm... when you phrase it like that, I have little choice but to agree about how peculiar that is. I would educate a guess as to why those things have happened, but as this is honestly my first time in Her Majesty's castle, I know so very little about the members of the Guard and any particular habits they may have. Even still, you're right-- we need to get a move on, and fast."

Vincent turned towards Maris and nodded with a hand gesture when she mentioned the spare coats and blankets. "I agree, that's a great idea. It would be slightly better if we could keep a heat source on hand during our search, but I suppose we can't have everything. Unless, of course, some of those in need of rescue are willing to stick close to me for warmth. I'm definitely not as soft as a common house cat, though. Wolf fur is rather coarse."

Interactions:
snowstormspawn
Vestige

 

[snowstormspawn]

~Queen Adrienne~
Queen Adrienne's eyes became far brighter as the last person she had spoken to stepped aside to reveal Princess Amalia of Lunora. He could almost feel the Princess' excitement to be participating in this once-in a lifetime kind of event, and she only hoped that it would be everything she was expecting it to be. As she herself hailed from the Northern part of what was now Hadria, but was formerly a kingdom where a language very similar to the one in Lunora was spoken, she was very happy to meet the daughter of the ruler of the kingdom allied with her own before her marriage to the King of Hadria. She greeted the young Princess with a warm, welcoming smile. "Well of course," she replied to Amalia's expression of gratitude for her and her father's invitations. "I am glad to see you in attendance here, despite the distance you had to travel in order to reach Hadria. I've always understood when King Charles declined my invitation - I myself am not the traveling type, and the sea can become quite unsafe." There was a slight frown on the Queen's face now. "I hope your family did not find the journey too tedious to make, and I hope that you will find the celebration to be worth it, despite the state of the weather. Arrangements have been made to keep all the guests safe, warm and occupied within the castle," she explained, knowing that Amalia and the rest of the Lunoran royals had arrived only shortly after the end of her address. "Enjoy your evening," she added warmly in Amalia's own language.

unfortunatelyhomo
_______________________________________________________________________

~Princess Adelina~
Princess Adelina frowned slightly as Elizabeth mentioned the Crown Prince of Calcavia had come down with an illness. "Is that right?" she asked in a hushed voice. "That is unfortunate," she added. "To have survived the worst plague in centuries, and now falling ill nonetheless." Prince Ante had been among many of the suitor portraits that she had sent back to their origin place, but she was sure that he was a good man - just not a man she could see herself taking a leisurely stroll in the gardens with. The Calcavians must have sent it out of error or without consulting him prior, she had decided. Such a match would have not made any sense.

Adelina snapped back to reality when Elizabeth asked her whether she would like to approach the newcomer at the ball, but she quickly shook her head, her earrings softly chiming as the jewels made contact from the movement. "It seems that he is occupied, besides, I believe that he already has his eyes set on another lady here," she said, her gaze turning to Princess Amalia of Lunora, who had only just arrived. "It's good to finally see Princess Amalia here - I'm sure that the ball will bring her out of her shell," she added with a subtle smile. She turned to Elizabeth again when she outlined her plan for who he wished to speak to, and her smile warmed as she mentioned not wanting to leave her by herself. "Oh no, that would not be a problem in the slightest... I will inquire with Queen Adrienne, whether she knows the whereabouts of the ship from Mazamri and if it has arrived to port." Depending on the time it had, if it had, Prince Saric and his entourage could be stepping through the grand doors at any moment. "In the meantime, I believe I see Lord Blackwood right over there," she said, stretching her neck slightly to glance over the assembled crowd.

"And if I can locate my brother Markolf, I will attempt to put our differences aside and bring him back to make an introduction between you two," she said before giving a small curtsy and making her way across the ballroom to meet with Adrienne. Adelina figured that she could swallow her distaste if it could help Elizabeth - she was already more fond of her than most eligible noblewomen that she knew were in attendance at the ball. Perhaps if Markolf fell in love with a kind, good-hearted woman, it would improve his own temperament and their relationship again.

Interactions & Mentions
kath1515 RayneIlStorm startergomer
_____________________________________________________________________________

~Prince Markolf II~
Markolf's temper had quite improved since his first arrival at the ball - the Crown Prince had been chilled to the bone, but now he was slowly warming up by a fireplace with the rest of the men. He occasionally rolled his eyes at the playful banter, which almost irritated him - how could their time at such an occasion be so easily wasted on laughter and crude jokes, when this was the prime opportunity to forge alliances, foster trade and meet other noteworthy guests. Once he had sufficiently warmed himself enough, the Prince pulled away from the fireplace and made his way into the main ballroom. Markolf was tied to his sister in the way that his formal, sapphire dress was accentuated by bright periwinkle detailing that matched Adelina's gown. When it came to his sister, he always knew that he could find her standing by the feasting tables, over-indulging in the fine wines. However, he was quite astonished to not find a single lady dressed in blue standing by the caskets.

No matter - there were far more important matters to attend to. For example, he had been hoping for an audience with Queen Adrienne, concerning the road system between Hadria and Westfalia. He had heard that the paths, built a few hundred years ago, were slowly falling into disrepair, and he had experienced this for himself on his journey to the ball. Markolf was certain that the Queen would appreciate his willingness to plan for bridging whatever gaps may exist between their two kingdoms. The Prince found himself even more surprised when he did spy a lady in a periwinkle gown making her way to the entrance of the ballroom, where the Queen now stood - it was Adelina. What could she possibly have to discuss with Adrienne? However, he assumed that she would simply inquire on the location of her friend from the desert - he and Saric were not the best of friends due to the rift between him and his sister, but Markolf was also wondering where the Mazamrian royal could be.

Looking closer at the line of nobles that had formed around the Queen, Markolf sighed deeply. As it stood, an audience was far too long of a wait, and he was sure that Adrienne would be too exhausted to listen to the specifics of his road-renovation plan by the time she had worked through the rest of the assembled crowd. He decided that, while he waited, he could pass the time with some light-hearted conversation, or a dance. After all, he still needed to find an engagement for himself, but even more importantly, try to find one for his sister. Adelina in recent years had seemed to feed into and entertain rumours that he was not the one and true legitimate heir to the throne, and Markolf had reached the end of his patience with the Princess. He knew that never having known her mother had resulted in her becoming bitter, and then turning to alcohol for comfort. Markolf believed his father, the king, when he said that he was the rightful future king of Westfalia. His father had no reason to lie - he was sure that he would have been sent away to some orphanage if the shameful rumours that his mother was unfaithful to the King were really true.

 

[GrieveWriter]

Cardinal Leopold and Skalden Cray
snowstormspawn
​

Leopold nodded along to the Prince's words, recognizing that neither of their patron deities could harbor enough ill will to cause such a turn in the weather. He may not have liked the way the discussion turned to suspecting who or what could've caused the unforeseen weather, but it wasn't as if he hadn't been thinking of it either. He'd just been more willing to leave such questions for another time, seeing how much he'd been looking forward to attending this celebration. Paladin Cray didn't seem to share even a shred of his hesitation on the matter, laughing behind his mask as the Prince posed his next question.

"Ah, now that's a topic I can brush you up on." Skalden looked to the Cardinal "Unlike the dear Father here, I've not much to say on the topics of distant lands. But I know plenty about heretics."

"Not all cursed by Ignis are heretics, my son." Leopold said whilst raising a finger "The Children of Ignis are merely poor souls who he's denied the gift of Lokh."

Skalden waved him off, "Nah, couldn't be them. The Children of Ignis are mindless, little more than beasts parading around in the flesh of man. They couldn't construct a spell capable of this even if they wanted to."

Leopold sighed at the Paladin's wording, but turned to look to Saric with a lowered head "In terms of groups led astray by Ignis into the arms of demons and devils, I suppose you could start with the Nelaphytes."

"Bah, couldn't be them either." Skalden waved off the suggestion "The Nelaphytes serve under the the Dark Goddess Brunella, convinced that she was denied her rightful rule over the realms of man when her pantheon cast her aside. They're motifs are less about causing harsh and inconvenient weather and more about straightforward acts of terror against the populace through destruction and mayhem, willing to scare any and all into submission. You want heretics who are more likely to do this kind of magical weather stuff? You look towards the Ascendants."

"Why would the Ascendants target a gathering such as this, though?" Leopold interrupted, a tinge of anger now in his voice. When Skalden shrugged, Leopold sighed and turned to Saric before explaining.

"Long ago an Exile from a distant land spread lies that the final goal for all of humanity was to Ascend to a place of godhood amongst the heavens, that all known Gods were once mortals who'd managed to Ascend through knowledge of the arcane. The Exile was eventually captured and quartered, but his teachings had managed to infect enough of the ignorant to give birth to the Ascendants." the Cardinal explained with no small amount of distaste in his tone "Ever since then, the Ascendants have scoured the lands attempting to steal as much of the most powerful Arcane knowledge from wherever they could find it. Old tombs, royal archives, numerous break ins and robberies can be traced back to them and their misguided attempts to become gods."

Leopold shook his head, "But I wouldn't imagine them attempting something like this here, all of their targets are known to be specifically tied to ancient practices and the ways of magic. I can't remember such an air surrounding Hadria, its just not a place as steeped into the more occult lore as some of its neighbors. I couldn't imagine something here being able to draw their gaze."

"So you're thinking the Nelaphytes?" Skalden asked, much to the Cardinal's dismay.

"I'm thinking I should focus more on refining the greeting I plan to give the Queen and her assembly." Leopold brushed off the question as the Grand Castle drew ever closer.

 

[unfortunatelyhomo]

- 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚 -

She listened intently as the Queen spoke to her, surprised she’d said her father declined. To decline something as grand and amazing as this..she couldn’t imagine. Of course, he had his reasoning for it, and she would never question him. The sea could be unforgiving, violent even, and it’s understandable why he wouldn’t want to put his family in peril. “The travel wasn’t a problem this year, which surprised us all. We found the travel quite easy. Nonetheless, I’m still elated to be here in your kingdom, storm or not.” She added, bowing her head in thanks at the Queens last statement. Whilst hearing her own language didn’t come as a shock, she was still pleased that Queen Adrienne had gone out of her way to speak it. “You as well, Your Majesty.“

As she turned to leave, she felt the smile on her face remain. The knot in her stomach had been replaced with the undeniable sensation of joy. However nervous she might have been, she still felt untainted joy at the fact that she was still here. Surrounded by people from all over the domain, conversing in a grandiose ballroom—she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Walking to help herself to some of the exotic wines she’d spotted earlier, she ran into her father, a look of surprise and guilt upon her face. She’d never actually consumed alcohol in front of him. Her mother would always invite her for some in the study, but otherwise, he didn’t know. “Father! Goodness, you scared me half to death.“ He’d placed his arms on her shoulders to balance her, smiling warmly at his daughter. He was a man of a big stature, and to run into someone as small as her would have a greater effect on Amalia then it did him. “My apologies, dear. You know I tend to be clumsy at times. Who’d you think you got it from?“ Amalia rolled her eyes. “I’m far from clumsy, Father.“ He gave her a look, one that suggested she was in denial of her own traits.

“No matter. It seems I must have missed the Queen, I could not find her anywhere.“ He uttered, a wistful look on his face. The corners of his mouth tugged at a frown, but he did not become truly upset. He just hated to be invited anywhere and not show his thanks to the hosts. As a Lenoran, walking into another’s house without thanks is equivalent to death. They’re a dramatic, but caring people.

“You didn’t miss her. She’s over there, actually. I just got done speaking to her-“ A look of surprise flashed on Charles’ face, and in response, Amalia smiled, proud she’d spoken to the Queen on her own. Turning, her father looked at the Queen, waving happily. The smile on his face mirrored his daughters. “Did you speak to anyone else? Any..princes, maybe? I see Prince Rile Ivera of the Calcavian Kingdom made it. I’d assume you’d be interested in talking to him, no?“ The smile was quickly replaced with a tinge of red coating both her nose and ears. She hated the topic of betrothal.

(mentioned)
snowstormspawn
RayneIlStorm

 

[RayneIlStorm]

"Ah, now I do not mean to force myself into a conversation - awful manners, I am aware - but I could have sworn I heard my name being said. Now, I hope that what you two are saying is flattering about me and not some sour gossip that I'd hear about later when the lips around here are looser?" A wickedly sweet voice came from the other side of the two. If the father and daughter of Lunora turned towards it, they would find the Devil man in question standing there with the same smile on his face. His head was tilted to the side with a finger pressed against his lower jaw. His smile grew brighter as he continued to speak.

"Oh, my dear, your ears are positively red! Is what your father said to you really that embarrassing? Or are the spirits high within you?"

Interactions:
unfortunatelyhomo

 

[unfortunatelyhomo]

The attention of both Lunoran royals was drawn to the voice speaking besides them. Amalia recognized the him as the blue-clothed figure she’d smiled at earlier. He must have been the Prince of Calcavia her father spoke of. Quickly attempting to collect herself, she smiled at the man and nudged her father, shrugging his hands off of her. "No worries. You'd be correct in assuming your name being mentioned, but you needn't worry. My father was just asking if I'd spoken to yo-" Amalia was cut off by her father, a proud grin plastered across his face. "Ah! The Prince of Calcavia himself! What a wonderful time to see you, my boy. As my daughter mentioned earlier, we were indeed speaking of you. Only positive things, might I add." Amalia shot him a look that could kill. In response to his question, the princess nodded and looked down at the half-filled cup. "I'd have to say it's a mixture of both, unfortunately." She cursed the red hue internally, the knot in her stomach returning as if it had never gone. She couldn't have been put in a worse position.

Charles beamed proudly at the two of them, forming his mouth to ask a question. Amalia knew what it would be before he even got it out, but she was too late in her haste to stop him. "So, Prince Rile, might I ask if you came to the ball on other business? Whilst I'm aware its a celebration of sorts, it's always a great place for building...networking, if you will." Amalia finished the last of the exotic wines within her cup, handing it to a gentleman carrying a large platter. The red shade on her face had long gone, but the feeling still remained. She knew her father had hidden intentions from the moment he'd invited her to the ball. Suitors who visited Lunora often weren't what Amalia was looking for, and she regretfully turned them down each time. It could be due in part to the childish notion that she'd find her knight in shining armor. It was a notion she needed to let go of. Marriages were based off of the needs of the kingdom, and if she couldn't provide for her kingdom, she simply wasn't fit to be a queen. Regardless, she wished her father wouldn't try to search for suitors in such a setting. Needless to say, had a few choice words lined up in her mind for when she was alone.

(interactions)
RayneIlStorm

 

[kath1515]

- Duchess Elizabeth -

Elizabeth nodded when Adelina asserted that she didn’t want to greet the Prince of Calcavia and followed the Princesses’ eyes to Princess Amalia of Lunora. They hadn’t been acquainted. Elizabeth hoped she’d be able to greet the Princess later in the night.

She turned back to Adelina as the Princess said she intended to inquire with her mother on the whereabouts of her friend Prince Saric. Before departing, Adelina pointed out the presence of Lord Blackwood and spoke of her intentions to introduce Elizabeth to her brother. “I hope you receive good news from the Queen,” Elizabeth said to Adelina. “I believe I shall go greet Lord Blackwood,” she continued, “Many thanks with all of your assistance. I hope to meet your brother later and perhaps see you again. It was a pleasure meeting you tonight,” she said, ending their conversation. She bid Adelina goodbye with a curtsy before the Princess began walking in the direction of her mother.

Elizabeth turned her eyes on the direction in which Adelina had seen Lord Blackwood, searching for him herself. Spying him to the side of the ballroom talking to another nobleman Elizabeth decided to head in their direction. Dropping into a curtsy as she approached them, Elizabeth greeted the men with a smile. “Lord Blackwood. My name is Duchess Elizabeth Beaumont”, she said, introducing herself, “I’ve been hoping to make your acquaintance.” Turning to the other man she said, “I’m afraid I missed your introduction this evening, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance nevertheless.”.

Interactions: snowstormspawn , startergomer , Hellewise

Mentions: unfortunatelyhomo

 

[Jolly Roger]

Marcel could sense the hostility in the crowd at The Hand Warmer, growing as steadily as the snow drifts piling up against the walls of the tavern. Even the prince’s young companions regarded him a measure of indifference, although that might just be their natural disposition- it was odd that the two other boys did not seem to belong to the nobility, judging by their simpler dress and rougher mannerisms.

It might seem to the outsider that Marcel had goaded the prince into harm’s way, but he had merely come up with the suggestion. He had a feeling that the boy would have eventually tried to leave anyway; there was a certain spirit in him, determined and fiercely independent in the way of many young men.

As Marcel followed the group into the stables, he grew slightly worried, although he dared not show it. The onslaught of wind and ice refused to abate, clearly more serious than just some brief, out of season flurry. On the night of the annual ball, no less...freak of nature or something more intentional? Perhaps the castle held some answers. Nobles did love to gossip, after all.

The carriage before them was a bulky, impressive structure, with more than enough room for the entire party. However, according to the stable boy, it was of an indeterminate age and level of wear.

Marcel stepped forward to inspect the vehicle himself, knocking on various areas to test the strength of the wood and crouching down to analyze the wheels. “Well, as a traveling healer myself I happen to have some experience with fixing wagons.” This was mostly true, although most of his knowledge was more common sense than particularly technical. “Everything seems to be alright with the material - no rot setting in or any issues like that. The walls were built thick and the handiwork is solid - as you would expect of a nobleman’s carriage- so it would take quite a lot of force to damage them. Wheels are perhaps a little shaky, but I can just replace them with the wheels from my wagon and we should be road worthy.”

He nodded in the direction of Lord Macron’s carriage, painted white and decorated with bushels of wheat, radishes, and daylilies - some of the common agricultural staples of Sacre-Bois. The lord would surely understand that desperate times called for desperate measures. “I could use the talents of a big man like you, my friend.” Marcel said, walking up to pat Garl on the back. “The job would go by much faster, and we’d be on our way much sooner - which I believe is in the best interests of us all. Don’t you agree, your highness?”

Interactions: Saavedra

 

[startergomer]

Walter Blackwood
" " : External Dialogue
' ' : Internal Dialogue

As Walter stood slightly panicked by the things the unknown noble might say, his words and Walter's fears were lost with the sound of a woman walking gracefully towards them. She appeared graceful, definitely trained. Though why she would be heading this way is anyones guess. Likely to meet up with the more finely dressed individual. She probably wouldn't even want to talk to him. Sigh, Walter Blackwood sighed again in thanks. 'Finally, a way to slip back, avoid embarrassment. I just have to stand here, nod, smile, while she's here. She's probably going to talk to him for a long time. Maybe even all evening. One can only hope. Half the time they insult you, you can't even tell if their doing it.....'

She came close turned directly towards him....

what....

curteseyd....gracefully if you asked him....

"Lord Blackwood. My name is Duchess Elizabeth Beaumont. I've been hoping to make your acquaintance."

What.....

She turned toward the other man "I’m afraid I missed your introduction this evening, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance nevertheless.”

what.......she doesn't.....she doesn't even know his name......but she knows mine???

*cough "Ahh yes...." bow slightly, correct angle, turn head, grin, "I am....'what to say'...honored to make your acquaintance."

Now think Beaumont. Beaumont....What do we know...search the books you've read...aha!...Beaumont, respected, fairly wealthy though not tremendously, industrial or at least more industrial than Blackwood, currently being threatened by a neighboring duchy. Those sort of rumors fly fast even in the far reaches of the empire.....do you know anything about her ....no...not at all......No way to pick a good conversation starter if you don't know anything....think......shoot you have to get better at these long pauses between words......go with the only thing possible, common decency, the old farmer technique of hoping the horse you rode in on is ok....

"I see that you made it to the ball in no great distress, my lady." 'translation you don't look like you got hit in the face by a blizzard/mild compliment to looks always a good play with women, at least according to pa'

"And I'm glad to see that so many are here when so few could have made it with the severity of the storm." 'severity, nice big word, they use big words in fancy castles, pa always said the size of your words often matched the size of your house. It's why he taught me to speak longer'

"Though I have to give my condolences for your duchy, 'look down, grimace, now we are in familiar territory, alleviating sadness with side story' I know a couple of merchants who passed through there recently. Its an awful thing. Why, they were telling me that those brutes were darn near everywhere. Course, you can never trust merchants, always trying to sell you something. My father used to say that a merchant could probably sell water to a duck. Haha!" 'whoops going on those long rambling farmer stories again'

"Ahem Anyway, you have my sympathy with that whole business...." 'yeah the cough really helped take their minds off of that lovely anecdote about ducks...she probably doesn't even know what a duck is.......'

And now they're looking at you. Great.

And you haven't even given her a chance to get a word in edgewise. Or talk to the other much more finely dressed fellow right to the side. Who is now probably hog wild mad that you a simple minor lord has gone out to talk before him. I don't know but I think they can fine you for that, course they can fine you for just about anything greedy,......Don't start, don't start. Messed it up.

Interactions:
kath1839, violeteclipse

 

[RayneIlStorm]

The Calcavian prince let out a bemused chuckle before nodding his head in approval. The way that he moved was loose, yet for some reason seemed calculated, and as always that smile was still plastered on his face.

"Wonderful, wonderful. I'm glad nothing of ill-will is being passed about." Prince Rile turned his head towards the table of wines and refreshments, scanning each of his options. He eventually choose a lighter wine, both in alcohol and in color, and picked it up in his hand. Then he turned back to the pair. When the question from Charles's came from his mouth, Rile took a moment to think of his answer.

"If you are asking if for he reasons why I came, I could tell you that there are many. For one, it isn't a good look when a family is invited and none of its members arrive. I'm sure you've heard of my mother and father's... productivity and how they almost never stop working themselves to the bone, and how my elder brother is unwell? Unfortunate, that. But, yes, networking is another one of my schemes for tonight." His smile grew wider and a softer laugh slipped from between his lips. "Considering how you seem to have brought along your daughter with you to this event, I doubt that simple networking is what you are searching for tonight?" Rile took a sip of his drink. "Of course, I am only assuming this."

Interaction:
unfortunatelyhomo

 

[kath1515]

- Duchess Elizabeth -

Lord Blackwood looked…….quite uncomfortable. Elizabeth began to fear she had possibly come at a bad time. She hoped she hadn’t interrupted an important talk between Lord Blackwood and the other nobleman. Her worries were alleviated when Lord Blackwood began to speak, although he still seemed to be very uncomfortable. She smiled when he said he was glad that she and many others had made it to the ball safely. And then he gave his condolences for her duchy’s situation.

Truthfully she had hoped that news of the situation hadn’t spread far, but she knew it was practically impossible for word not to have gotten around. To have it brought up; however, it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant.

Lord Blackwood then continued with a story about a merchant and a duck. Ducks. Truthfully she didn’t know much at all about ducks. It was like the Princess had said, he seemed extremely well-meaning, but well, Adelina hadn’t lied when it came to the lord’s lack of social ability.

Elizabeth smiled, hoping to put the Lord more at ease. “It’s fortunate that we both made it to the ball safely. I’m glad you arrived unharmed as well,” she said, “I hope all who are stranded can arrive safely themselves.”. “As for the situation with my duchy,” she continued, “Your condolences are greatly appreciated”.

They were appreciated, truly. Lord Blackwood seemed to be genuine when talking with her. She didn’t sense any sort of judgment from him. Well-meaning, like Adelina had said.

“I do hope everything is well in your lands. I have heard quite nice things about the agriculture in that region,” she said. Elizabeth had heard agriculture was flourishing within Blackwood; however, she had also heard they were severely lacking in industry within the region. Perhaps this was an opportunity for a deal between their lands. Unfortunately, Elizabeth didn’t have much knowledge about forging trade deals herself, it would have to be discussed amongst her father and elder brother. To her, at least, it seemed like an opportunity to forge the kind of alliance her family had sent her here in search of.

Hoping to alleviate a bit more of the Lord’s discomfort she continued with a small laugh, “That’s quite the humorous story your father has told you. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard that saying prior.”

She then caught herself before she could continue talking to Lord Blackwood, had she completely forgotten her manners? She had practically been ignoring the nobleman standing near the both of them.

She turned to the finely dressed nobleman and said, “My deepest apologies, I had no intent to disregard you. I’m quite happy you have arrived safely as well. I hope your journey caused you no discomfort.”

She then smiled at both the men.

Interactions: startergomer , Hellewise

 

[snowstormspawn]

~Adelina~

Adelina patiently waited her turn, and Amalia’s audience with the Queen had just ended when she stepped up to speak with Adrienne. The Princess bowed before her. “Good evening, your majesty,” she greeted the Queen in her usual formal manner. “My family and I thank you once again for our annual invitation. The ball grows more lovely every year,” the Princess praised.
“Well you can’t imagine how ecstatic I am to hear that,” Adrienne replied. “I hope that you will still enjoy it, despite the weather.”
“Oh, rest assured that I may even enjoy it more – my gown may be too warm to feel comfortable under the regular circumstances, so I welcome the cold,” Adelina replied, the brightest smile that she was capable of plastered across her face. “Though I wish the storm would subside, of course.”

She pretended to enjoy the small talk while discussing her journey with the Queen, until the opportune moment came to ask about Prince Saric’s whereabouts. “Has the ship from Mazamri reached port, Your Majesty?”
“Indeed, it has,” the Queen responded. “The messenger informed me some time ago that Prince Saric sent a falcon to inform us of his ship’s safe arrival. He should be arriving at the castle shortly.”
“Wonderful,” Adelina said with a warm smile. She took a quick look around the ballroom, asking herself whether there was anything else that she needed to discuss with the Queen. She was surprised to find her older brother standing alone a few paces away, having apparently given up on obtaining an audience with the Queen due to the high demand.

A sly grin settled on the young Princess’ face. “Markolf,” she called to the man in a loud, cheery sing-song voice that rang across their half of the ballroom. The Prince turned, apparently stunned by the sound of his sister calling out his name. When he realized that Adelina was calling him over so he could have a moment of conversation with the Queen, his posture stiffened – Markolf brushed off his chest and glided across the floor to his sister’s side, much to the displeasure of the assembled nobles, some of them quietly groaning as they realized that this would mean an extended wait. After bowing to the Queen and giving the proper greetings, Markolf looked down at Adelina with a look of what she could read as respect. She was glad that her brother finally appreciated something that she had done.

Queen Adrienne did not seem to mind the interjection, in fact she treated both siblings as if they were her own nephew and niece. “I would wish you a happy upcoming birthday, Prince Markolf, but I know that doing so is considered bad luck in Westfalia, so I will send you a letter of well wishes for the upcoming year of your life instead...”


~Sir Wymond~
Wymond nodded along with Lady Maris’ suggestion as he outfitted himself with his own winter cloak, a dark mink piece that was definitely priceless. He wanted to ensure that he was visible in the snowfall, and wearing a dark cloak that would stand out amongst the flood of white was the way. In addition to that, he did not want to weigh himself down any further while he was clad in heavy armor. “We take lanterns,” Wymond suggested, considering that the glass surrounding the light within would keep them from blowing out and extinguishing in the blizzard. “There are ways to take sources of warmth along, but I fear that most of them would be lukewarm by the time we reach someone who is stranded. We can strap some mulled wine to a horse, and that may be able to keep warm long enough to be of use to someone,” he explained as he pulled his arms through the coat’s sleeves. Wymond knew the durability of heat sources from his winters on the battlefield, and unfortunately hot water bottles and even stones that had been warmed in a fire would not keep well. However, wine that was close to boiling would keep quite well, and the alcohol would aid in warming a frozen body up.

The guard pushed the finer coats aside and reached into the back of the closet for the standard set of coats that were less expensive, but still plenty warm. He grabbed an armful of these, turning to Vincent and Maris once more once he had retrieved them. “Do the two of you have footwear fit for winter snow?” he asked. “If not, the cabinet of boots is at the back of the closet, to your left,” he instructed. Once they had all been outfitted with proper winter clothing, Wymond led the way out of the coat room and to the kitchens, where he explained the situation to the confused young boy tasked with brewing the mulled wine. He managed to persuade two of the kitchen staff to leave their posts and bring along a rolling cart with the barrel of mulled wine on it, who then followed the trio as Wymond escorted them to the stables.

“Are you sure, Sir Wymond? What if the Queen needs–“
“Where do you think that the Queen is going in this muck?” the guard snapped.

Once again, he was forced to brief the staff in the stables on the nature of the situation, and after some back and forth on whether he was absolutely certain that he had permission from Queen Adrienne to ride the Royal-Carriage-pulling horses out into a freezing storm, the stable boys got into gear and began outfitting three of the Clydesdale steeds with reigns and saddles. “I say that took long enough,” Wymond huffed as the stable boy handed him the reigns to a black horse with white socks and a blaze that ran down the length of its head and past its nose.

Vestige quadraxis201

 

[quadraxis201]

Vincent Hawthorne
​

Vincent was in agreement with Wymond's suggestion to bring along lanterns. "My fur is plenty black enough to create a contrast in the snow, but anything to make me even more visible will help. I'll likely have to hold it in my mouth, though-- not that I can see myself using my teeth for much of anything, to begin with." Wymond had also spoken of mulled wine, which actually served to make Vincent ever so slightly more thirsty-- that did sound good at a time like this, but it was reserved for the stranded guests in need of warmth. Well, perhaps if some was left over...

When Wymond asked Vincent and Maris whether or not they were in need of proper footwear for the blizzard, Vincent shook his head. "These boots of mine will more than suffice whilst I am in this form. I've been to more places on missions than I can count, and these boots haven't given out on me yet-- especially not during harsh snowfall. I'll not be using them for too long, though-- wolves aren't exactly known for wearing shoes."

Vincent followed Wymond and Maris to the stables, wherein some stable workers equipped a trio of horses with the proper gear. "To be honest, Sir Wymond, I won't be needing a horse, but if the stable boys have prepared one for me on this venture, then I'm not about to quite literally look a gift horse in the mouth."

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snowstormspawn