Fantasy The Rise Of Heirs - IC

[FireMaiden]

• Prologue
• Links

• 
  
  
  Porfirio Manor​
  "And let's not forget to toast the new Harbringer of Titan Guard!" A broad shouldered man in rather formal wear stood up on the ballroom stair case, holding up a crystal glass of pale, golden liquid. A chorus of clapping and cheers followed, as a woman in an intricate dress was pulled up by Gavin Porfirio. She smiled at the crowd, waving at the people there to not only celebrate Lord Gavin's promotion to, well, cheers broke out when he said, so many didn't hear; but her promotion to Harbinger. A position directly under the Guild Master.
  
  Soon after, the dancing, laughing, and drinking began again, and somehow, you found yourself in this crowd. Actually, you did know. This was an invitation only party, so you were shocked when only a week ago, you found an invitation among your things upon waking. The invitation itself was written as if addressing a noble. Full name, or your alias' was written in brighr red ink, and a very loopy script. Of course, at first you thought it was a joke. Until, out of the envelope fell a second price of unassuming paper.
  
  To the Heirs, or those who used an alias as a true name, was, well, you're real name. It started you, I mean, you hide your identity to protect your life, and whoever the sender was, knew your name. The small note told you not to worry, that they were a friend and someone who could help you. All you needed to do was attend this party so that he could meet you. Signed at the bottom, was the name Duncan.
  
  And here you were. Either our of your element or somehow makinging your way through the night with an air of elegance, just waiting for the time this Duncan made his appearance.
  
• 
  The Rise Of Heirs - CS
  The Rise Of Heirs - Lore
  The Rise Of Heirs - OOC
  

 

[FireMaiden]

Aurelia Zinovia aka "Lunar Leonhardt"

Spoiler: Dress

With a sigh, she finally stepped away from another groups of nobles drowning in perfume sharing their condolences for the lose of her father, and their congratulations for her new position. Lunar this, and Lunar that, the attention was starting to wear on her. Of course, she may have to get use to it if she planning on working towards reclaiming her throne. Her name held power, and she knew this. The ring on her hand, and silver circlet sitting against her dark hair. She may have gone a bit over board with her dress, but Ryan, who was somewhere dancing with a woman half his age.

Warning her way through to the nearest waiter with a tray of golden drinks, She grabbed one, before making her way to an unpopulated corner of the large room, She could finally breath. But movement from across the room, on the second floor, caught her eye. A man, dressed in blue robes, seemed to be watching her. Or, at least looking in her general direction. But maybe, that's to be expected. Her...um...acquaintance, had made her very known to the room. Reguardless, She turned her attention to her drink. (Open to Interaction)

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Gerard Ronar Or rather Richard Stormwind

Spoiler: Fancy Clothing

Gerard was still a little perturbed and cautious that his true name was known and that was cause for concern as well. He had only recently learned his true name from Sir Morgan and his wife Beatrix and they had known since he was born. With that in mind, he decided that while it was an invitation only party, he did not want to stand out too much; he wore his ring on a chain despite this. The safe bet of clothing, green to match his eyes, and the hiding of his birthmark was all for naught though as an unknown with the name Richard Stormwind generally drew people to him. He was soon assailed by members of the opposite gender trying to learn who he was, why he was invited, and if they could dance with him; it was incredibly tiring.

Making up a fake excuse he retreated to a table in a corner in order to regroup and plan his next maneuver. Hand on his chin, drink on the table, and and elbow on the white table cover, it looked as though he was deep in thought observing the dance. That observation was broken when he felt as though someone was watching him; it was an uncanny feeling that was exacerbated while in this unfamiliar place. Not wanting to draw immediate attention he kept his head in the same position but moved his eyes as he looked around the room quietly. He did this for a second before he noticed the woman, who's honor the part was thrown in, nearby. Seeing it as a chance to possibly distract whoever might be looking at him. Getting up slowly, he walked over to the woman and spoke in a soft yet strong voice. "Miss Lunar, I suppose you're tired of hearing congratulations from everyone so I apologize in advance if I've disturbed you."

FireMaiden

 

[FireMaiden]

Aurelia Zinovia aka Lunar Leonhardt
Long in her own thoughts, barely any drink passing her lips though the glass stay at them, she didn't notice that a man had approached, and addressed her. Upon realizing, she turned to him with a soft smile. "Oh, no, it's quiet alright." It was obvious that she was trying to hide her mother accent, being surrounded by people with Imperium accents and/or no accent at all, she wpuld have stick out like a sore thumb if she didnt try to curb it. "In fact, you're the calmest person so far. It's a nice change," Aurelia said, taking an actual sip of the golden liquid. Until she tasted it, she wasn't sure what it was.

It was flowery in smell, sweet and sour in flavor, with a spicy aftertaste, it was Imperium Haver. A drink much like champagne, yet shipped from over seas from their homeland. It was expensive and rather weak, but they apperantly didn't care much for string drinks. "My name is Lunar Leonhardt, though you must already know this," She said, a slight chuckle behind her words, "What's yours?" Clockwork Syringe

 

[Abendrot]

Arovin(outfit)
Arovin Merrandis, rightful heir to the throne of Nera, wore solid white on the night of the gala. It was a Synod uniform, finer than his standard fare. Silver lined his long enveloping sleeves, his robes buttoned to the neck. The silk was a bit bulky for his liking, and he was already starting to sweat beneath his cloak. He tugged idly at the collar, wondering how the aristocracy hadn't all died of heatstroke with clothes like these. He swallowed his discomfort as he meandered through the crowd, passing men and women in bright gowns and suits. His steps were nowhere near as graceful as those of the other guests', who seemed so comfortable and elegant in their garments. The ballroom was a grand structure, fine and richly furnished with plenty of room to dance. Dozens of white-clothed tables circled around the dancing floor, where couples waltzed to the music of a string quartet.

Arovin handed off his cloak to a nearby attendant, relieved to be at least somewhat free from its stuffiness. He forced himself to continue on. He could already feel eyes on him, scrutinizing him, sizing him up. Soon, the minglers and sycophants were upon him with the sheer volume of their chit-chat, and he didn't have much energy to do much more than nod politely and laugh. A few ladies proved courageous enough to ask him to dance, though Arovin, not really knowing how, had to turn them down.

Eventually, after much effort, Arovin found a moment to excuse himself. He made his way over to a solitary table where, to his surprise, he found the lady of honor herself, Miss Lunar Leonhardt sitting there. Regardless, he took the liberty of taking a seat anyway. "Unfortunately, my patience for making smalltalk grows very small indeed." remarked Arovin sardonically. But now that he had the aristocrats off his back, he could finally begin to appreciate the prim stateliness of the ballroom itself. He couldn't resist the opportunity to pull out his sketchbook and begin drawing the scene. He shot a glance at Lunar and her plus-one. "Don't mind me, madam. You've got a big table, and there's plenty of room for the three of us, is there not?"

FireMaiden Clockwork Syringe

 

[Elle Santiago]

Spoiler: Dress

Geneva was among the invited guests, mingling with them with a smile on her face and a glass of wine in her hand. And, while she was speaking with them, she tallied people who are of interest. She had been in a lookout since earlier, well, since she acquired the letter, for the person who knew of her. There had been no results to show so far. She crinkled her eyes, a demure hand covering a fake, but genuine-looking, laugh while anger simmered in her heart. The boy that made the joke brightened, his posture straightening in confidence as he thought he managed to amuse her. She blinked coquettishly at him, teasing the poor fool.

"Would you like to dance?" The boy, some Lord Jefferson, heir of some other land, asked. She agreed, placing the wine on a passing servant's tray, before taking his hand and wrapping hers around him. The familiar motion made it easier to think as the steps made its way to her mind as if she was back in her lessons in the castle. Jefferson's amiable expression turned into a frown, the simple steps he was making turning into complicated motions as Geneva manipulated his movements. It was more amusing that way, and it gave her some time to think while he bumbled around.

Geneva made sure that there were no tracks to sniff, every single action taken with great caution when it came to concealing her identity. Her facial scar acquired in the betrayal was covered with an expensive make-up, the ring she had on her fingers under her gloves devoid of tracking magic, and there was no way that the guild betrayed her. Oh, this position. Sway, sway, and sudden spin. The look of surprise on his face was something to remember. He flushed, muttering an apology. She smiled warmly, forgiving his faux-pas.

If Jefferson was a sharper man, he'd notice that Geneva's smile froze. But since he was still a boy struggling with adult responsibilities (which was why Geneva interacted with him in the first place), no one noticed except Geneva and, perhaps, the person who was paying her attention. She made no indication, keeping herself dancing. She positioned herself again, her dance partner trying, and failing, to gain a semblance of control. Back, forward, back, and turn. But when she did, the eyes on her back was gone. Annoyed, but not wanting to gain more attention on her, she excused herself from the hands of Jefferson.

Geneva scanned the whole place, unnerved that she couldn't find anyone. Frustrated, she hailed a servant who gave her another glass to drink. It was sweet and fruity, the alcohol sliding down her throat smoothly. She ignored the drink's origin. It was best not to think of it at all. She made her way to a less populated area, feeling the folded pants and a small knife under her striking red dress. Better safe than sorry, and all that. Feeling that she was more in control of herself, she scanned the room, finding the esteemed Leonhardt with a man she thought whose name was Stormwind and another man she believed whose name was Arovin (the women liked to talk, and they've speculated a lot about the two men, and all she could do was nod, laugh, and agree as to not arouse suspicion).

Geneva took a sip of her drink and decided; she'd greet them later on by interrupting a conversation. As much as it irked her that there was still the mystery surrounding the letter and this whole event, she still missed the elegance of a high-class party. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted, and it wouldn't last long when she finally found this Duncan-person and forced answers out of him.

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Gerard smiled and replied, "Richard Stormwind at your service miss Lunar. I much like you occupy a similar position, although in my line of work, we only have a guild master and no direct underlings, only members." Gerard then noticed Lunar's ring and was uncomfortably reminded of his own that was hidden under his tunic. His conversation was interrupted by another man who approached them and sat down before sardonically remarking about small talk. However, what drew his attention was not the man's comment, but the fact that he had brought with him a sketchbook and was drawing. This caused a huge grin to appear on his face, "Ah! A fellow artist! By all means, carry on and I would like to see the final product if you don't mind?"

FireMaiden Abendrot

 

[FireMaiden]

Aurelia Zinovia aka Lunar Leonhardt
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Stormwind," The woman replied with a smile. At the mention if a similar line if work, She wondered if it was from one of the other public guilds or more of a secretive organization. "Interesting," She said, "Which kingdom do you work out of?" Aurelia asked, genuinely curious about it. Though she had been working for a rather lon h time, her experience with the other guilds was somewhat limited. She knew of the others, but the details she knew must have slipped her mind for the moment.

Another man joined them, and while nothing about him stuck out right away, he wore all white. That was an odd choice among yhe sea of differnt colors xancing aroind the ballroom. "Oh, yes, of course. You're welcome to sut here all you want," She said with another graceful smile. Clockwork Syringe Abendrot

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

"My my miss Lunar," Gerard began "aren't you the curious one? I suppose theres no harm in telling though." He then cleared his throat, *ahem* "I work for the Adventurer's Guild in Khora, I've been working for them for about a decade now. I know my way around a sword much like you do no doubt" he smiled. While there is no formal structure people who have gone on a great deal of adventures, like myself, have unofficial status as veterans." Gerard shrugged, "Nothing official really changes, maybe that you get to take on harder jobs, but just how your fellow adventurers see you thats all. I'd like to think thats why I was invited here maybe?" That of course was a lie, Gerard was still unsure of the real reason. Although he thought it was most likely due to his true name and the status that it held.
FireMaiden Abendrot

 

[The Hero]

Dent Roclight

Spoiler: Fancy Clothing

Dent pulled at his collar as he lurked at the corners of the manor. Amongst his repertoire of abilities, mingling with the sophisticated was not a skill he had acquired. He would had gladly chatted with them if they had been interested in smithery or the weather, but their words of joint venture and investments went straight above his head. It would also help if his clothing had properly fit him and didn't look like it was about to burst from the seams. Despite that, Dent did not feel embarassed or ashamed of his lack of knowledge, instead he made the decision to observe from the side and figure it out. He was failing miserably. In addition, his intimidating size caused people to stray away from him. He sighed, wondering where his conversational skills went; if he were conjur up any semblance of direction to where the heirs might be, he had to ask around. "I probably left my ice breakers behind along with my better fitted clothing," he murmured to himself, attempting to slowly transition towards the food platters. "How did they even send a letter to me, I was staying at an inn?"

 

[Elle Santiago]

Geneva grabbed another drink from a busy servant who gave her a genial smile before walking away doing what servants did. Her eyes traveled to the guests again, fruitlessly hoping to get a glance of a suspicious person. Well, that was talking too broadly. Everyone here was suspicious. Hell, the whole party was suspicious. In the corner of her eyes, she looked at a tall man wearing fancy clothes that were far too fit for him, outlining his muscles with every motion. Yes, he was suspicious as well, but not that much. The question that pops up when looking at him wasn't 'is he a danger to me?' and more like 'how did he even get here?'.

Geneva lifted the glass of wine near her nose, taking a whiff of the aromatic drink. A smile tugged her lip upwards. It was Vier White, a popular drink in Khora's nobility. She took a small sip, savoring its very taste, memories of childhood flitting up the forefront of her mind. She indulged in this for a few moments before shaking her head. She turned her attention towards Leonhardt and the two men. She put on her best smile, walking towards the three. It was time for the meet-and-greet to be over with, so she could get started into sneaking around the mansion.

"Hello there, Miss Leonhardt!" She called out, making sure that the wine didn't slosh over the glass's lip. "I must say, a beautiful party befitting for a beautiful woman! Congratulations on the Harbinger position. I'm sure it was a difficult journey, but well worth it."


Mentions: FireMaiden Clockwork Syringe Abendrot

 

[Field Marshall]

Lance looked upon the other attendees of this gathering, he didn't quite understand what was occurring but he had to be here. Someone went through a lot of trouble to bring him here delivering a message all the way into the Dragonlands. It had to be someone worth meeting as their are a wealth of possible adjectives to describe someone capable of doing that. Highwind was not dressed formally like the others present for this event, he was dressed in his usual attire his dragon scale armor. Some people scoffed at his choice of clothing but Lance was not here to enjoy the party, he was here to get answers. He figured this did have something to do with ridding Faylen of the Imperium. For that alone he held his patience for this gathering instead of just demanding answers and making a big scene upon arrival.

 

[Jean Otus]

Spoiler

Jin lazily drifted around the gathering, occasionally sipping from the goblet of spring water an embarrassed servant had pressed into his hands. He wasn't quite sure why he'd been invited to this party. Generally monks were the last thing people wanted at their parties. He couldn't drink the wine, he couldn't eat the food, and nobody was remotely interested in having a fight. It all started when a messenger on horseback rode out to him from the town he was approaching, questioned him about his identity, then handed off the summons without a second word. As if that wasn't cryptic enough, the invitation had no indication of who it was that wanted his presence here, only that he was to be at this manor at this time, and dress accordingly, so ordered the mysterious Duncan.

He'd struggled to meet the dress code for the entire day leading up to the party. Giving his robes a thorough wash in the river was hopefully enough, it had brightened their color from black to their natural blue hue. To be certain he was uniquely dressed among the crowd. His robes lacked the elaborate detail and embellishment that the garments of the other attendees. He wasn't any good at dancing either. So instead he wandered from conversation to conversation, ever playing the wise monk and endeavoring to be polite in the face of people he normally wouldn't talk with. Eventually he decided that he would pay his respects to some of the notable individuals he recognized.

Walking over towards the young Lady Leonhardt, Jin wrapped his rosary around his hand, so that the little sword pendant swung gently beneath the heel of his palm right when he pointed his fingertips towards the ceiling. As he approached the girl and the small group around her he gave a bow in greeting. "Good evening, might I say that it's quite an honor to meet you in person, Leonhardt." He announced with a smile. Straightening from his bow, he let his free left hand rest on the paired swords which hung at his hip. "I am brother Jin Mizuki, of the eastern monastery. May the blessings of battle be heaped upon you" He added, with a shake of his rosary so that the iron beads clacked together satisfyingly.

FireMaiden Clockwork Syringe Abendrot Elle Santiago

 

[FireMaiden]

Aurelia Zinovia aka Lunar Leonhardt
"Khora, really?" She wondered, "You don't seem the type," The woman chuckled. She, while a fan of the kingdom, didn't know if she could deal with the weather. Humid and rather warm yearly, she just wasn't a fan. "Intresting. The Harbringer tittle are given to those who not only show great skill, but show multiple acts of unnessacary heroics as my father put it. Personal sacrifices, saving those in need, slaying creatures of unimaginable terror, and so on," Aurelia explained, before another person approached the small group.

"Hello to you too, and thank you," Aurelia said, with a gentle smile. "Ah, well, my being here us just an afterthought, Gavin believes I've fallen for him," She said with chuckle. "May I ask who you are? Everyone seems to know my name, so it makes introductions a little awkward." Gavin, the man who was throwing the party, was one who use to pick in her. Ober the years, he just...grew into a creep.

And, once more, another man approached, this time a monk. An, odd choice for a party goer, but never the less, he was greeted with another smile. "Thank you, Brother Mizuki," She said with a small nod of her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Clockwork Syringe Jean Otus Abendrot Elle Santiago @

 

[Elle Santiago]

Geneva smiled brightly at the question directed to her by Leonhardt, curtsying as she introduced herself to the woman before her. “I am Eleanore Mitsel, milady,” The lie slipped past her lips easily, having practiced before this party and making it seem natural, what with the introductions she’d made with the other guests already, “hailing from the conquered city of Sterna in Khora.”

That part was true, at least, though it didn’t make it easy to swallow when she said so. There was no harm sharing this information, considering that most would assume that she was a part of those Imperial scum that destroyed her city. She hated it, but she consoled herself into thinking that it wouldn’t be long now before she’d have the chance to retake her home.

Still, Geneva played the part of a mingling woman eager to gain connections to high places and, perhaps, arrived here to gossip with other people. “Well, if it is your beauty and seduction that has caused your rise in the ranks, then it must be impressive indeed.” She teased, shooting Leonhardt a cheeky smile before turning towards the very curious monk and his swords. He screamed danger to her mind. “Oh, my. I’ve never seen someone from the famous Eastern Monastery before. The one with the warrior-monks, is it? Is what they say true, that the monks like to fight for the sake of fighting?”

Mentions: FireMaiden Jean Otus Clockwork Syringe Abendrot

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Gerard chuckled at Lunar's words, "yes, it is quite warm most days, but humid? I would disagree as I don't prefer humidity as much as the next Khoran. However, what Khora possesses in heat it likewise possesses in beauty; I'm sure someone like yourself would enjoy it no?" Turning his head, Gerard addressed the two newcomers, first the monk. "It is a pleasure to see a monk here Brother Mizuki, although I recognize those eyes. You won't satiate your hunger for battle at this party I'm afraid, but conversation you shall have plenty of." Finally, he turned to the woman, Eleanore Mitsel, "Greetings Miss Eleanore, I am Richard Stormwind hailing from Brightstone in Khora. It is good to see another Khoran here regardless."

FireMaiden Jean Otus Abendrot Elle Santiago

 

[Abendrot]

ArovinI suppose I've got time to kill. Arovin thought, trying to take his mind off this Duncan figure. He had to admit, he was eager to meet this man, if only to interrogate him on how he obtained such a disturbing amount of knowledge about his personal life. Yet so far, he remained elusive. None of the other guests had seen anyone by the name of Duncan, and as far as he was concerned, he wasn't even in the building. No matter, he supposed. The night was still young, and Duncan would have to rear his head sooner or later. But first, thought Arovin. I've got to clear my mind.

He set his sketchbook on the table, along with a small set of pencils of varying widths. Simple things really, but they held value to him personally. He selected one and gazed out across the ballroom, engraving the image in his mind. He noted the other guests, dancing splendorously in shining suits and self-assured airs. There was a grid of rectangular skylights over the dancing floor that blanketed the party-goers in evening sunlight. And the marble pillars that cast dark shadows here and there. Then his eyes shot down and he began to draw. Arovin's fingers moved deftly across the page, capturing the vague shape of the room, the tables, the gilded doors, the chandeliers. Slowly, he began to add details. Drawing always seemed put him in a meditative state, a trance where he lost track of time. His hands darted around as if they drew on their own accord. It was so much easier to think like this. Soon enough, Arovin had completed the ballroom sketch to his satisfaction. He held up the book, staring with pride at his work. His nervousness about tonight's function had subsided by now, released onto the pages and leaving his mind clearer.

"Ah!"

Arovin jumped in startlement, turning to find Lady Leonhardt's companion eyeing his work. Lord Richard, was it? Richard Stormborn? Stormlight? He couldn't remember. "A fellow artist! By all means, carry on and I would like to see the final product if you don't mind?" Despite himself, Arovin cracked a smile. The visual arts were such an unappreciated pursuit, especially in this part of Faylen. Far too many people were quick to dismiss them as frivolities at best. "I see you have an eye for talent, Lord Richard." Arovin said. "It's so rare to find someone who's as enthusiastic about the arts as you are." With that, Arovin shut the book and pushed it forward. "I'll let you look through my portfolio if you wish."

No sooner did those words leave his lips when he caught a pair of party-goers strutting up to the table, no doubt seizing the chance to suck up to Lady Lunar. The first was a Miss Eleanore Mitsel, a stately Khoran who held herself with an air of sly confidence. The other introduced himself as Jin Mizuki, an Eastern Plainsman. That was odd. Eastern warrior monks always struck Arovin as an ascetic lot. What business could he have here at a party like this?

Clockwork Syringe FireMaiden Elle Santiago Jean Otus

 

[Jean Otus]

Jin smiled politely and nodded along with the conversations around him. It was the least he could do to feign interest in the party until the mysterious Duncan came to find him. Either that or until it got late enough for him to excuse himself. He tried to laugh off the comment about sating a hunger for battle from what appeared to be a foolhardy young squire. He was much more interested in the young lady who actually seemed to know something about his order. People like that were few and far between, though if they proved receptive, they could even be swayed by the teachings of Mori. Bringing in more gentiles to the fold is a secondary, but important job of every missionary. Jin turned to focus on his prospective proselyte and offer her his wisdom.

"You are nearly correct, we monks practice combat in an effort to awaken something deep inside us. The natural state of a warrior that everyone is born with. In that way we purify our souls and prepare for death." He gave his rosary another shake, letting the beads strike each other with a metallic tinkle, like little bells. "We have opened our doors to everyone affected by the recent tragedies," he produced a small map from his sleeve and held it out to the young lady, "Can I interest you in our way?"

"As for you..." Jin's voice took on a sharper tone, turning to the young squire. "We do not hunger for battle like some sort of rabid dog." Jin retorted. "We are a pious order, we seek out battle in order to find enlightenment." He shifted his weight, placing his right hand on the handle of his short sword. "Perhaps I could show you how close I've come to enlightenment?"

Clockwork Syringe Abendrot FireMaiden Elle Santiago Field Marshall The Hero

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Gerard accepted the young man's portfolio and thumbed through it clearly impressed with what he saw. "You have a real talent for this, you should come to Khora, the landscapes there are beautiful and I myself have drawn quite a bit. I would love to see what you would make with what the landscape has given us for art." Brother Mizuki then addressed Gerard causing him to reply. "That will not be necessary my friend. You have a clear bond with your weapon, so much so that you cannot go anywhere without it. I apologize for my hasty judgement, I mistook what I saw in your eyes for what I've seen in the many other eyes during my adventures leading to my caution." Gerard then spoke in a hushed voice, "Speaking of caution something has been bothering me, how did you all receive invites and who sent them to you?"

FireMaiden Field Marshall The Hero Elle Santiago Abendrot Jean Otus

 

[Elle Santiago]

Geneva curtsied, again, to Richard Stormwind as a courtesy of politeness. “And I, as well.” She replied with a smile, inwardly approving of his mannerisms, politeness, and general demeanor. He reminded her of looming paintings back in her home, of the stellar and stoic pictures of Khoran royalty alongside Altara nobility that served them loyally. As a child, she wanted to be amongst those legends who upheld Khoran values and strengths, and, even now, she dared to wish it to be so. Loathe as she to admit it, however, there was little chance of that happening, what with her home stolen from her hands and the Khoran heir missing.

This party was making her nostalgic. She took a sip of the glass containing her drink, hoping to mask the slight shift in her demeanor. Thankfully, Brother Mizuki’s offer took her by surprise, so she didn’t have to affix another mask on her face. Amused, Geneva pulled the glass from her lips, moving the stem of the glass in subtle, circular motions, the liquid following the action almost hypnotically.

She stared, thoughtfully, at the map offered before her before plucking it from his hand, making sure to glean as much information as she could as she spoke. “I am grateful for the offer -- Brother Mizuki, is it? --, but I am afraid my knowledge of swords and fighting are quite nonexistent,” A smile pulled up the corner of her lips upon the reiteration of a familiar lie she had extreme practice on, considering that it was one of the most hilarious yet. “I may yet be persuaded, however, if my material possessions and, well, other needs will be allowed with me.”

That amusement grew two-fold, as well as the subconscious dread, upon seeing the amiable and gentle Brother turn suddenly sharp, not only in his words but his actions also. Stormwind’s words, while appeasing to Brother Mizuki, became very curious and dangerous as he quietly asked about the letters.

Geneva lifted her drink to her lips once more, savoring the flavor as she thought on what to do next. Now, considering the friendly and amiable demeanor of Richard Stormwind, he could be genuinely wondering about the hows and the whys if the letter was similar in content to hers. If that was the case, then he was a person of interest to her. Was he like Geneva, a Khoran nobility that was ousted from traitors? That would explain his familiar looks, considering that nobility were bred not only to lead, but also to look good.

Another case, however, was that this whole conversation was a trap, and Geneva sprung it like the total, reckless idiot that she was. This Duncan knew her true name that she painstakingly hid from most and managed to enter the resting home of assassins, bypassing her home’s expertly made locks and traps. Of course, this Duncan would have an idea of how she’d work and what she’d do.

Still, she had to reply, no matter what kind of situation it was, if only to lessen the suspicion that would be directed to her if she failed to answer. Deciding that she drank too much of what was usually appropriate while in conversation, she responded with a slight tilt of her head, one of her eyebrows raising in question. “Why, someone handed it to one of my servants, and my servant handed it to me.”

As for the who, that was a trickier sort. She couldn’t possibly say it was from a person named Duncan nor could she say it was from the Guild or some such. That could be a trap as well. Everything about the letter had to be considered as a trap. Better to act like a buffoon than to be seen as something dangerous, mostly when near this warrior-monk. Geneva giggled, bringing her hand to her lips as if an attempt to hide her laughter. “Well, as to who, I couldn’t quite remember. The moment I saw that I was invited for this prestigious party, well, the only thing I worried about was if I’d have a dress made in time!”

This conversation was becoming too dangerous. She need to make her way out of this talk soon. Perhaps, she need to make her way out of the party as a whole. Richard Stormwind was a good enough of a lead to pursue, be it that he was another one like her or an enemy that must be brought to the swift justice of her knife.


Mentions: Jean Otus Clockwork Syringe Abendrot FireMaiden

 

[FireMaiden]

Aurelia Zinovia aka Lunar Leonhardt
She chuckled gently, "I must have just visited during a wet season, yes?" Aurelia said, more of her northern accent slipped trough with a sultry tone. She decided to take another sip of the drink in he hand as attention was turned to the artist, and from the few pictures she could spot, they were wonderful drawings. But tension grew between the monk and Sir Stromwind, causing her to step in. "Boys, please, manners," She said, before soemthing else he said caught her attention.

"A note was left on my front steps last week. It was signed by a Duncan," She said, her brow furrowing. "Odd he invited more than one of us, but I guess that's how these things work," she chuckled, looking up to the second floor platform that over looked the ballroom. The man she had seen earlier had moved, and was no longer looking at the party below, but he was walking towards a group of waiters. He paused, said something to them, before walking to an empty room. "I wonder..." She muttered to herself.

Within just a few moments, a few of the waiters approached the group. "Sir Duncan requires your presence," one of them said. "All of you please," Another added, before a third joined, "Follow us please." Clockwork Syringe Jean Otus Elle Santiago Abendrot

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Gerard's eyes went wide as Lunar explained that she had received a letter from Duncan, much like he did. He was about to speak next when three waiters asked for them to meet a "Sir Duncan" at which point he swore softly, "I knew I wasn't the only one then!" As he turned to follow them, his head became stricken with pain causing him to drop to one knee with his right hand on his head before his sight went to black.

Gerard blinked three times before his eyesight returned and he was standing in a white void with nothing in front of him. Suddenly, three elongated shadows trailed from behind him causing him to turn around. Three genderless black silhouettes were standing in front of him not moving with their hands at their sides. The first held up their arm and a full moon appeared atop their head. ~What the hell?~ The second held up their arm and a sun appeared above them. The final individual did the same as the prior two only this time a heart appeared above them; the same heart that currently existed on Gerard's bicep. He then blinked three times before his sight was returned to the party at hand. ~As usual my visions are vague as ever, but this one was a little clearer as it involved me. Was it something to do with birthmarks like mine?~

FireMaiden Abendrot Jean Otus Elle Santiago

 

[The Hero]

Dent Roclight

Dent had practically devoured, or as he would put it sampled, most of the dishes at Gavin's soiree, earning him disgusted and uncomfortable looks from the other guests. So, he attempted to disarm them with his dashing good looks and adorable smile. It didn't work... at all. Instead, the people who watched him grimaced in detest as the gruff, unshaven man bared his food covered teeth at them. "Darn," he mumbled, "there goes my glorious reputation." The half-dwarf seemed to have the dillusion that he was well received before despite his wallflower and food guzzling ways.

But then, he had an epiphany, a god sent message from above, the perfect conversation starter. He moseyed himself down toward a random group, wrapped his around the nearest gentleman, and said, "Is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" His line was quickly met with slaps from the ladies and embarassed faces from the men. So now, he was left alone with stinging cheeks and the desire tonleave when he overheard the name Duncan. "Aye," he said to himself, "that's the guy who invited me hear; I'm sure he would enjoy my company." This decision resulted into him trying to silently integrate, that weird lateral slide, into the group who the message was directed toward.

 

[Elle Santiago]

Duncan.

The mystery was slowly unfolding, but it was still enclosed in darkness. So, it wasn't just Geneva who was invited here but considering who she was, then these people -- Leonhardt and Stormwind -- were indeed of importance. Or, perhaps, she thought as she saw a tall man slide in their conversation without even a single ounce of grace, everyone was just invited by someone named Duncan. Still, the fact that he sent Geneva a letter was something. Granted, she didn't know what that something was.

Geneva was just about to slip away from the conversation when, suddenly, Richard dropped to one if his knees, clutching his head in what looked like pain. Immediately, she stopped, not wanting to look insensitive in the eyes of the party-goers, which, if it happened, would attract unwanted attention on her. It didn't help that, in that moment of hesitation, the waiters arrived, one of them offering his assistance to Richard, and delivered the message that Duncan wanted their presence.

With no other choice, Geneva held her head high, hoping against all hope that she didn't have to fight her way out of this mansion. For now, though, she put a charming and disarming smile for the waiter and her other companions -- mostly Brother Mizuki, hoping that her inner turmoil wasn't seen in her body language. "My, how utterly exciting! Please, lead the way!"


Mentions: Clockwork Syringe FireMaiden Jean Otus Abendrot T TheHero

 

[FireMaiden]

Prologue - Part Two​

Compared to the rest of the manor, the study Duncan chose to lie in wait was rather drab. Heavy, blue velvet curtains blocked out nearly all of the bright moonlight, the room lit only with a single candle. The furniture was old looking, worn and scratched from years of use, not to mention everything was covered in dust. Either nobody had entered in a very long time, or the maids weren't very good at their jobs. Nevertheless, after shaking free a big, leather covered chair of most its dust, Dunacn sat behind the heavy maple desk.

With the little light, he looked older, more decrepit, than he actually was. He was a shorter man, in his mid forties, dressed in blue robes. He hasn't lowered his hood, despite being inside, so most of the details of his face were hidden. Though his eyes, his eyes shone from beneath the hood. They looked sliver in the light, with flecks of blue and gold. It's hard to really deceive how they made you felt, determined, cautious, yet...intrigued. He sat, waiting for the servants to bring the group.

With Richard's collapse, they would pause, and with Dent joining them, their group was complete. After making sure he had recovered, the three servants who had summoned them lead the group up stairs. Most of the party goers were now distracted by a dancing bear, so few noticed their leaving. But they didn't care as much as they cared for their drinks and tiny foods.

The group could now over look the party in the ballroom below because of the second floor balcony. But they would have little time to do so if they wished to keep up with the three leading them to Duncan, to answers. Like why did he know your true name? Or how he knew where you were despite never talking to him a day in your life? All to be answered soon, as the servants all fit you into the study where the old man was waiting.

Silence. Uncomfortable silence that made you wary of his intentions, but his voice seemed to calm you. "Allow me for introduce myself," he said, unloving from his chair. "I, am Duncan of Altma. And you," He said, looking from Aurelia, then to Gerard, and finally to Arovin, "Are what remain of the royal families of Faylen." That only confirmed he knew of your heritage, your birthright. But not how.

"Miss Aurelia Zinovia." Her heart skipped a beat but her face remained calm, confirming that Lunar was the one he was speaking to. "Yes?" "You're quite bold to wear not only your crown, but your mother's ring. And you chose a dress which shows your birthmark, how interesting," He said, "When, Gerard and Arovin aren't wearing theirs, it showing their marks. Or am I mistaken? Is your ring still under your shirt?" He asked, the last part directed to Gerard, only now standing. He was about five seven, but broad shouldered. Under the robes he must have been solidly built. Slowly walking around to stand infront of the desk, he chuckled. "I'm happy to see that almost everyone invited has arrived. And so, I will happily answer a few questions before I continue." Elle Santiago Clockwork Syringe Abendrot The Hero Jean Otus