Author Topic: The Feast of the Black Swan  (Read 7332 times)

JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #15: September 11, 2016, 05:09:40 PM »
Roleplay from Torxanib Godric Tórrarin ka Habb[/size]   [/size](12 hours, 47 minutes ago)[/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/color][/font][/size]
Godric was late to Isadril. Having your head cracked open in the defense of Xavax could do that to a man. Nonetheless news of the Feast of the Black Swan had quickly spread across the realm alongside the Imperial call to arms and Sir Godric could ill-afford to not make at least a cursory appearance.

Warbornsson was not used to feasts in an Eastern tradition with all the etiquette and formal dances and required greetings. Merrymaking shouldn't require rules but here he is yelling at his retainers to procure something to wear as a mask. Only his Man Otto proves competent: an old-fashioned Toren warmask is dusted off (was this your father's? How did you get this?). Pressed and lacquered leather offered an impressive artistic medium for the craftsman who opted for bull's horns, wild eyebrows, and a snarling mouth with boar's tusks. A heated discussion on the appropriateness of the horns later (it makes me seem virile and strong, I am wearing it Easterners be damned) and Sir Godric has set off.

Arriving at the tavern Godric realizes he may have come dressed inappropriately (a polite but flustered retainer who was waved off comes to mind) but it is too late and Godric frankly does not care. He wears a robe with an arming belt (he lost the argument on whether bringing an axe was okay), a sigil of Tor, and heavy furs draped over his shoulders. His riding boots denote a cavalryman, as strange as a Toren cavalryman may be. The furs add width to an already wide man and the boots give a touch of height to bring him to just above average (now he understands why heeled shoes are becoming a style). The guards are initially aggressive at the foreign looking man but when he growls that the Þegn of Torrenhal submits to no searches the guards relent.

He enters the tavern and is taken aback by the sheer number of nobility. His dark eyes scan the crowd catching a golden lioness with a blonde mane prancing across tables: from the forced non-reactions Godric judges that must be his Lady Xerarch Selenia doing precisely what she does best (that is, whatever she wants to do). Godric Warbornsson sighs, grabs a goblet of wine, and begins mingling with minor nobility.
« Last Edit: September 14, 2016, 12:29:48 PM by Andrew »
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JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #16: September 11, 2016, 05:10:04 PM »
Roleplay from Kieran Dubhlain[/size]   [/color][/size](12 hours, 32 minutes ago)[/color][/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]
Emboldened by the kindness of the two ladies he introduced himself. "I am Kieran Dubhlain captain of, well I suppose it's Sir Kieran Dubhlain knight in service to the Pheonix of Xavax now isn't it?"
"Since my luck appears to have gotten remarkably better since I left those cursed bastards of Alara, I may as well see how fate carries me. Lady Gia and Lady Cadewyne thanks again." He toasted them both with his mead and downs it in one go. "Fantastic drink! I had always hoped I may be able to open an apiary maybe even a meadery, but it may  not be reasonable with such competition."
 
Dubhlain grabbed another tankard and drank not so deeply this time. " So ladies, I'm a newly minted noble and I've not a clue how to not embarrass myself in front of the peers of the realm. How best might I not be boorish?"
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JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #17: September 11, 2016, 05:11:17 PM »
Roleplay from Daxion House Thunderborn[/size]   [/color][/size](11 hours, 52 minutes ago)[/color][/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]
Daxion sat by the fire hands outstretched. The road was becoming cold with the passage of the seasons and his joints hurt more this time of year. A body hard pressed by his time on roads bleeding for Royalty and country did not appreciate the amount of time he spent in the saddle of late, or the amount of time he spent sword in hand.  The last thought brought a predatory smile to his lips his eyes catching the fire light turning eyes normally the color of good chocolate a deeper color almost red.
His thoughts of blood and battle were interrupted by a polite cough behind him "Lord Kildar it is time for you to be prepared for the party" he sighed a very put upon sigh and glared into the fire the corner of his upper lip curling "And if the Kildar does not wish to be primped for yet another evening of trading polite barbs and empty compliments with those that find such things necessary then what oh wise one?" a dry chuckle was followed by an even dryer answer "Then of course if the Kildar wishes to sit in front of the fire and hide from the oh so terrifying nobility of the land that is his right"
Daxion put hand to his heart turning to the aging warrior that stood behind him. The warrior smiled a smile as thin as the blade of a good knife as he watched his liege lord. "Balin you wound your Kildar truly your words cut me to the quick." the mocking smile fell from his lips like a glass pushed from a table by a small child "That being said I am weary enough with out having to deal with what is sure to be a night of trying very hard to hold my temper in check and not sheath my blade in some poofed up pompous ass that thinks that he farts jasmine and pisses rose water"

Balin kept that same thin smile upon his face as he inclined his head "Well then it is a good thing that the invitation states that you are to go without blade." Daxion surged to his feet "Oh that is the last bloody straw they can have my sword when they pry it from my cold dead fingers. Those stuck up asses can go piss up a tree for all I care. Not only am I instructed to leave the men behind because of course they are to rough to be allowed to dine and party with nobility but Gods above and below know they are good enough to bleed and die for them, but now they wish me to leave my blade behind? To the hells with that I'll stay here with a skin of wine that I'm sure is not as fine as what they drink, a stew from Mother Ivanov pot which I know will be better then what they are eating and I'll listen to the men and women that I bleed with tell stories and lies and enjoy myself that much more. " he turned back to the fire intending to do just that when that soft sardonic voice spoke again "Lady Cadewy will be there...and I'm sure she would be disappointed if you missed the opportunity to spend time with her."

His broad shoulder slumped knowing he was defeated ".....fine.....Call in the Mothers...tell them I will need their aid after my bath so that I might be presentable " he grumbled as he made his way to his tent to fetch soap knowing the river would be just so pleasant at this time of year and night "And NO BLOODY SILK" he made his way to the river and when he emerged dripping, blue and sputtering but clean teeth chattering he made his way back to his tent to be properly dressed. Three of the camps Mothers spent time shaving his face of the three days stubble, trimming and then braiding his long brown hair in its warriors braid letting it hit him at his hip, they wove strips of black leather within the braid changing the way the weight of his hair swung and giving it a slightly darker sheen, on the end of his braid a onyx panther head jaws open in a scream of challenge was bound giving weight to his hair.

Helping him into the black patterned leathers while he growled under his breath.The workmanship was of course Keldaran make, formed from deer and dyed by hand when first seen it simply looked like black leathers, but when he moved and the light changed you could see that it had subtle stripes in a lighter shade of black it covered him from shoulder to hip while leaving his arms exposed. His boots were tight with strips criss crossing them to just below the knee the chest piece was obviously ceremonial thin leathers molded and layered giving both flexibility and protection. The  finger-less gloves they put upon his scar covered hands ended at the elbow tied up his inner forearm, curved claws rested on-top of the back of his hands extending to his knuckles. They covered the blades in leather so tight it made the weapons appear as nothing more then a cleaver accessory.

The mask was reverently placed upon him. A masters work it was a hammered metal mask that covered him from upper lip to forehead. The face of a panther with Daxion's eyes stared out the slitted eyes of the predatory face enhanced by the skill of the Keldaran crafts man that made it over the course of years until it was fit for the Kildar to wear. Finally his torc with its snarling panther heads, the silver armband with its panther pictured rending a deer its teeth sunk into the preys neck were placed upon him. The Mothers stood back and nodded declaring their Kildar ready for his battle. 

Daxion sighed once more flexing bared biceps as he moved to test his flexibility while the mothers watched soft smiles on their lips "Many thanks to you Mothers. I am honored by your care." They tittered a bit before taking their leave.  Balin was waiting for him when he left the tent. "Your invitation Kildar...we will have men watching if you need us we will be there as always" Daxion nodded and shoulders tight made his way towards what he assumed was going to be a night of frustration and boredom teetering on the knifes edge of pushing him into a rage. He flexed his hands enjoying the comforting weight of the claws there a smirk on his lips "Try to disarm me ..heh never going to happen" he appreciated the way the Keldaran had hidden the weapons on him.

He stepped through the cities streets following the directions given to him by Balin. Arriving at his destination he quirked eyebrow behind his mask. A tavern was not what he expected, his thoughts had been a nobles residence with a garden to show their wealth and offer hidden places to be what they considered naughty. His eyes rolled, he did so hate that word. With one last sigh his lips set in a thin line of annoyance he pushed the door open and made his way within.
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JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #18: September 11, 2016, 05:11:34 PM »
Roleplay from Cadewyn Thunderborn[/size]   [/color][/size](11 hours, 39 minutes ago)[/color][/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]
Cadewyn had been about to answer when the door opened to let in another masked figure. She might have still kept on, had not the distinctive look of the mask, the way he strolled into the room, the length of his hair or the leathers he wore not marked him so completely to her eyes. It was him. He was here. She felt her skin heat, and knew she looked like a flushed school girl. She snapped her mouth closed and lowered her face. Suddenly her horse mask felt ridiculous on her. Too big and silly. She tried to catch back up with the conversation around her, but she was drawn to him, her eyes flicking there and back, her attention obviously distracted. She shook herself and turned, away from the door, away from the crowd, facing the wall of the tavern, trying to calm her mind and heart.

She took a sip of her drink and then another before setting it down. He might not approach her. they might go this entire night without speaking. It was not required of their pact, per se, but they might choose to simply be strangers for now, until a better time to sit and talk occurred. But oh how she longed to simply run to him and the rush away from this suddenly too loud crowd. And yet she knew she was being a goose, suddenly quiet and strange to her newly met companions. She hoped niether of them, nor anyone who might want to speak to her would think her rude or overly strange. The song had done so much more than she expected, as others had offered a compliment as they passed or ordered fresh drinks. And she would remember meeting those eyes and that nod for her whole life.
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JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #19: September 11, 2016, 05:12:42 PM »
Roleplay from Torxanib Godric Tórrarin ka Habb[/size]   [/color][/size](11 hours, 19 minutes ago)[/color][/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]
Engaged in a positively droll conversation with a nobleman regarding his designs for a flying machine, Godric cannot help but let his gaze wander. He spies first Arbiter Aramon, wearing some sort of maroon silk drape over his enormous form. He notices a thing young noblewoman in green, tight curls upon her head. Godric runs his hand along his head, feeling the scar from his wound. He normally kept a neat top of hair but the surgeons had to shave him bald to monitor the fracture. His mind wanders once more awash with young nobles of young houses carousing at likely their first great feast. With an unintentional but undeniable pomp the newest guest enters.

Godric speaks to Tor for strength. His head swims with mantras and prayers for strength and valour. He recalls the wisdom of the paragons, including his father. It is all for naught. Unable to control himself Godric bursts out laughing at the leather-panther. He howls out, tears rolling freely. He turns back to the nobleman, red in the face, attempting to pass off his laughter as a joke heard. He aggressively shakes the poor man as his guffawing continues unabated. He is not laughing so much to be heard over the music yet and his wild eyes eventually convince the man to laugh along, realizing what manic has overcome Godric. The laughter slows, a few snorts and false starts, and Warbornsson wipes away the tears.

"Thank you. Torrenhal owes you a debt for joining my fauxpas. Tell me more of your flying machine."
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JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #20: September 11, 2016, 05:13:22 PM »
Roleplay from Tsubhia Faraya[/size]   [/color][/size](10 hours, 52 minutes ago)[/color][/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]
.Tsubhia took another sip of mead and had to force herself to knock it the rest of the way back.

MEAD?  You're struggling... with mead.

It's... not my usual kind of drink! I like... wine.

Weren't you talking about getting a 'stiff drink' the other night, when you got ill news of Noritor?

Of course! Those ones with all the cordials and exotic juices! Sometimes they come with a little hide umbrella. You have to give the umbrella back, though.

Mercy, child, in a room full of warrior nobles... at least it doesn't show on your face.

I'm a warrior! I fought a king! TWICE!

In practice, certainly, you can operate excellently on a battlefield. It's a cultural... thing... nevermind. You're drunk.

I am not!

You're not your usual gloomy, dramatically-tinged self. You're drunk.

What, I'm drunk because I'm having FUN?

You're literally conversing with the voice of self-doubt in your head.

!@#$, that's true.

And you lost track of Countess Dragonfyre.

Double !@#$! Tsubhia scanned the room, sifting through both the crowd and her double vision, and managed to pick Gia's mask out. She was talking to another pair
of fresh-faced nobles. Tsubhia looked for an opening and then darted across the inn, sloshing her mead slightly on a patron or two. Ignoring the noises of irritation
behind her, she plopped herself on the fringe of the conversation between the Countess and the two nobles. As she waited in a fashion she believed to be patient (too
drunk to notice her own fidgeting and sighing and shifting of weight,) she took note that the man looked less the noble and more the ruffian, though he carried himself
with some surety. The woman, on the other hand, was clearly trying to keep to herself and enjoy her drink. Tsubhia also noted the woman suddenly becoming very flushed,
but was too inebriated to puzzle out the exact reason.

Finally, tired of waiting, she tapped them all successively on their shoulders.

"Greetings! I'm... I'm Tsubhia Faraya, and I just was talking to Countess... Contessa... do you like Countess or Contessa or is there a specific preference in Xavax I can
never 'member... ANYWAY I was talking to her and said how exciting it is to have all these newcomers - isn't it exciting it's SO exciting a Call to Arms I would never have
DREAMED - and that I wanted to help her inspire the recruits and then she gave me some mead and then we were friends and then I got lost but now HERE I AM and HI. How are
you?"

And you didn't even fall over once. I'm very impressed.

"Shh!" She didn't realize she had just shushed HERSELF until she saw the quizzical tint to the faces of the nobles before her. "Um, not you! Um, I just don't always do well
in noisy crowds, silly me, haha! Anyway I'm really looking forward to fighting alongside all of you and now I'm just going to be here, and, um, be excited! Hooray!"

Your oratory skills are nothing short of dazzling, Tsubhia Faraya. I strongly suggest you lay off the mead for the rest of the evening.

For once, she thought to herself, I completely agree with you.
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JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #21: September 11, 2016, 05:13:50 PM »
Roleplay from Daxion House Thunderborn[/size]   [/color][/size](10 hours, 51 minutes ago)[/color][/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]
Looking around the crowded gathering he finds himself wrapped in the sounds of music, laughter some of which seems to have a dandy's empty headed hysterics to it and conversation. The smells of perfumed bodies that should instead have bathed, beer, food and tobacco seem to fill the room as much as the noise. Moving around through the crowd he made his way through the fanciful menagerie of nobles in their finery. Finally arriving at the bar he took his drink and found a table to sit at putting his back to the wall and people watching for a time.

As much as he tended to rail at being forced to attend such events at least this time the pageantry was interesting.  He found himself at times even straining his neck to look at some new costume that probably cost more then his men made in a full year. The drink was good even if the room was to hot making him feel trapped by the press of bodies and the noise that seemed to hammer at him like the hammer of the gods.

And that's when he noticed her. Across the room dressed all in grey to match her horse he was sure. Even with the over-sized horse mask he knew who she was. He smiled beneath his own mask she seemed to be making friends at least. It had been weeks since last he saw her. The last missive he had received had been full of  pleasantries but under her words he knew that she was unhappy despite being on the road away from her stifling family.

His face once more set itself in its more customary scowl as he thought about their family visit that started all of this. The wailing of her mother, the gnashing of teeth of her father...but the look on her grandmothers face that was the sting that followed him. She was so fiery, independent, smart, funny...but young. He stared down into his drink contemplating that point, the one her grandmother had hammered so fiercely at him alone behind closed doors.  "She's barely old enough to make this decision, and you her first longing it won't end well for her Daxion. She doesn't understand the way it is in the world, she's never had any real time to spend on dalliances like a girl should and now she's ready to declare her love for you. In the end....you'll ruin her if you don't let her go."

He put down his drink. Perhaps it would be better if he simply left his thoughts were not in a very festive mood his hands flexed as he considered his options.
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JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #22: September 11, 2016, 05:14:07 PM »
Roleplay from Cadewyn Thunderborn[/size]   [/color][/size](10 hours, 41 minutes ago)[/color][/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]
Cadewyn blinked and smiled at Tsubhia and her drunken greeting and introduction. It eased something in her and she felt her shoulders set in their customary position of surety. "It is indeed an honor to meet you Tsubhia. Forgive but there is someone I must address. Mayhap I can convince him to be social and you shall know him too. Excuse me."

She bowed her head and slipped the mask from her face, dark locks swaying with her movement, free and full. Her cheeks were flushed, but from the heat and the drink now, not inner turmoil. She would greet him and see. Perhaps her worries had foundation, perhaps not. But she would face them, no matter what. He was a bit harder to find, sitting and she stood a moment, seeing the revels revive with more fervor than before. She doubted her song would have been heard had the din been this loud earlier.

And then, there he was. She walked carefully towards him, giving a predator his due and the respect of carefulness. She stood at the edge of the table he had claimed and smiled softly into his eyes, her own stormy ones soft and sure. "Hello, betrothed."
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JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #23: September 11, 2016, 05:14:39 PM »
Roleplay from Nicolas Harkle[/size]   [/color][/size](8 hours, 17 minutes ago)[/color][/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]
ISADRIL - NIGHT OF THE BLACK SWAN MASQUERADE BALL

"You need a mask, sir.", the guard growled.

"A what?", Harkled asked.

"A mask, this is a masquerade party. By the order of her high majesty."

Nicolas sighed and stepped out of the line. Captain Ulfman fell into step beside him as they walked aimlessly down the street.

"Damnit, now what?"

"Sire, I still think this is a bad idea, we could always head back to camp.", Ulfman replied.

"Nonsense. I at least want a drink for my troubles. Hmm, I have an idea..."

The two men wandered through the strets of the stronghold until they came upon a guard patrol.

"Halt! Who goes there at this hour of the night?", a guard called out.

"Sir Nicolas Harkle, sworn knight of the Imperium, that's who.", Nicolas grunted.

The guards immediately halted and stood stiff at attention.

"My lord, we are so sorry, we are doing our jobs-"

"Enough. I can see that. Had you not stopped me I would have a much more coarse demeanor than I do as of now. You seem to be fine men. Let me relieve you of your watch, here, take a small pouch of gold to split amongst yourselves. You are fine guardsmen."

The guard who spoke hesitated at first, then reconsidered saying no to a knight. As he reached for the pouch, Nicolas stopped him.

"One condition though, I need two of you to give me your armor and weapons."

----

The two guards walked up to the enterance of the Black Swan Inn, and approached the sentry at the front.

"Hail, the captain of the watch has ordered us to relieve two fellows inside.", Nicolas said.

The guard at the door shook his head and sighed. "Been a long night, wish I could get some sleep."

Nicolas laughed, "Aye, we just served a 10 hour watch on the walls. You'd think we have enough security with the whole damned army here."

The guard laughed and let them in.

Nicolas looked at his captain.

"Let the festivities commence!"
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JeVondair

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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #24: September 11, 2016, 05:18:07 PM »
Letter from Ivo Mersault[/size]   [/color][/size](12 hours, 28 minutes ago)[/color][/size]
Xerach Selenia,

It is proving difficult for our best men and elves are out on the frontlines at this moment. Every fit body we can spare has been sent to the front in this war, and I cannot with good reason recall any of our best heroes while our enemies still threaten us.

However, there is one they speak of who lives in the forests of Flismar. He is a hunter and a trapper who lives on the land, an elf supposedly of the ancient blood when there were elven kings around. He goes by many names: Ruvyn Swansong, Rhistel the Fair, Bob. Names that have become synonymous with the lore in those regions. Some are exaggerations no doubt but there is ancient magic in that lineage and I wouldn't put it past him.

Why is he not with any army, you might ask. Well it appears he is something of a pacifist and when a man can supposedly make himself invisible in the woodlands, there is no point forcibly trying to conscript him.

Two weeks we have searched for him in vain, as my best eyes and ears on the ground have been variously laughed off, gotten hoplessly lost or chased dead ends. But just last week, one of them reported getting close and spotting a faint trail. He yelled out the greeting to a retreating flit of shadow in the gloom, but who knows if it was received? The man sent word by carrier pigeon, but I have not heard from him since and can only deduce that he is still following leads.

We will keep trying but if a tall, elven stranger does appear on your doorstep, it means the message might finally have gotten through.

Respectfully,Ivo Mersault
Prime Minister of SirionRoyal of SirionDuke of ParmMargrave of Parm[/size]
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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #25: September 11, 2016, 06:15:14 PM »
Roleplay from Selenia JeVondair[/size]all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]The Feast of the Black Swan was in full swing. Outside, watchful Imperial Guards stood sentinel as servants streamed back and forth.

"WE NEED MORE WINE" One shouted.

"AND MEAD TOO!" chimed another.

"THE ROAST ISN'T FINISHED YET" cried a harried third.

The business of entertaining the entire Phoenix Court was a hectic one indeed. And so it was with little surprised that a cloaked and coweled figure was able to approach the entrance to the Black Swan unnoticed as the harried guards signed for deliveries and waved servants on through. The figure coughed. A polite sound that somehow cut through the noise. The guards challenged him, one whipping out a clipboard naming invitees while the other layed a hand lightly on the pommel of his short-sword.

"Oi! What'r you then. hey?"

"Expected." The figure replied in a smooth baritone as he reached into his cloak slowly so as not to alarm them, and withdrew a small, wax-sealed enveloped bearing the crest of no-less a personage than the Prime Minister of Ancient Sirion himself. He handed it to the first guard while the second checked him for weapons very carefully. This one had an aura about him, a presence, that demanded close attention. The guard's eyes widened and he showed the seal to his mate, who seemed similarly surprised. They waved him through, knowing any bearer of a Royal Seal would be far above their own pay-grade, but both peered closer and the figure through back is hood, revealing a half-mask that circled back far enough to hide the wearer's ears. It was shaped to resemble a swan and plated in black glass from the Obsidian Isles that reflected the torchlight brilliantly. The visitor from Sirion walked passed them and crossed the threshold into the main hall where the Nobles of Xavax had gathered to celebrate.
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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #26: September 13, 2016, 05:14:45 PM »
Roleplay from Gia Dragonfyre[/size]   [/color][/size](12 hours, 52 minutes ago)[/color][/size]message to all nobles of Greater Xavax[/size][/color][/size]
**Gia is standing in the Black Swan ...... she is very, very drunk by now. After spending a goodly amount of time conversing with new nobles and doing a poor job of NOT watching the Xerarch glide along the table tops she finds herself leaning once again in her cozy little alcove. Although it's very late the party is still in full swing. The arrivals of new persons has finally slowed to almost nothing. If she had not been staring off into space in the general direction of the door because of this thought she might have missed him. He seemed to move so fast, much like the Xerarch herself. Once he was gone from view this night you could scarcely tell if you had seen him in the first place. He was wearing a great travel cloak the cut and style of which Gia had never seen before (not that she was very up to date on the fashions these days) The mask he wore was only out shown by that of Seleina's Lion mask. But this strangers mask was almost an opposite for her resplendent gold. The delicate Swan mask was crafted from some glittering pitch black marvel that again Gia had never seen before in her life. He turned his head scanning the room. Gia noticed the mask was shaped oddly in the back. Most of the finer masks here had ties in back this mask sat more like a dainty helmet. covering the top half of the mans head. Protected his ears...... she frowned thinking to herself what purpose this little helmet could serve .... but decided it must be merely ornamental......... There were many new faces here tonight ..... but there was something  about this figure that struck Gia ........He carried a certain ........gravity.... She was still staring right at him when he met her gaze as he turned his scan in her direction. It occurred to Gia that also maybe like Selenia this mask was to be 'not seen' either....... But as she had heard nothing about another such mask and too drunk to care Gia had sat up a little taller smiled and nodded and held his gaze until he grinned and looked away. Just like that he........almost melted...? from view ...... he made a motion of moving and suddenly she was unable to track him....... he was gone........**

Gia blinked at the sudden strength of the memory from two nights ago ......... She was sitting along the edge of camp keeping watch ( as she usually did) ... lost in thought......... "I was good and drunk ...... but I saw what I saw ..... and I haven't seen him around again........ I should inquire about it..... " Her mind goes blank for the moment...... today was a grand day and although she received no serious injury she is bone tired. With a sigh she forces herself to her feet and strolls off toward the command tent.
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Re: The Feast of the Black Swan
« Reply #27: October 29, 2016, 03:03:53 PM »
OOC:  Now that im finally exploring the roleplaying forum I can honestly say this was awesome when we all did this. Im going to roleplay some more tonight. This  one will be even biger than the last!!!