SUMMER

Angkar: Wet season. Precipitation is common during the late afternoon and evening hours. Vegetation grows significantly during the summer, but flooding is a danger due to the monsoons that ravage the country. The rainforest sees evenly distributed rainfall throughout the season.

Ashoka: Desert: Extremely hot and dry. Violent, heavy downpours following long dryspells. Jungle: Hot and humid with frequent, violent rainstorms.

Morrim: Relatively hot and dry, but with a chance of thunderstorms from time to time. The heat may cause forest fires.

Soto: Hot and humid, tree cover is dense while ground growth is restricted. Thunderstorms see the most amount of rainfall during the season, and it can be very windy. On occasion, there are flash floods that can destroy homes and farms built on flood plains.

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January 16, 2018 As you might have noticed, Elenlond has a new skin, all thanks to Mel! Don't forget to check out the new OTMs as well!

December 2, 2017 Winter has settled on Elenlond, bringing sleep for some and new life for others.

September 26, 2017 With the belated arrival of autumn come some interesting developments: new OTMs, a Town Crier and the release of the Elly Awards winners!

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May 31, 2017 Summer has arrived and so has activity check! That's not all though – we also have some new OTMs for you and some staff changes!


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Elenlond is an original free-form medieval fantasy RPG set on the continent of Soare and the Scattered Isles, which are located to the south in the Sea of Diverging Waters. The four chief nations of the western side of the world—Ashoka in northern Soare, Soto in western Soare, Morrim in eastern Soare, and Angkar, the largest of the Scattered Isles—continue to experience growth and prosperity since the fall of the Mianorite gods, although power struggles within the countries—or outside of them—continue to ensue.


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    Stellar Winds; // Ser Leofric
    Topic Started: Nov 14 2014, 08:06 AM (288 Views)
    Sigvard
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    She was above them all.

    This time quite literally, sitting in her high spot at the edge of her brand new Arena. As of her arrival to Angkar some time back, she had seen it fit to announce her sustained presence by building an amphitheatre near her recently purchased premises. Alongside with offering entertainment to the citizens in hope of good first impressions, the little show was also to further her newest businesses and lively up the peaceful side of Zedrin. To her great dismay she had not been able to construct the large installation into the intimacy of the city center, but guess the vast block of land about the docks was the next best thing for housing her efforts. For the sake of being a gratious hostess - which she surely could afford with pockets deep as the Tamarind Bay filled with treasure - she had chosen to keep the opening night free for all access. This was partially to ensure that the seats would be filled, thus not ending her looking like a fool with an empty building, but of course mostly due to her pure good will.

    Her efforts had not been in vain, she would muse, gazing upon the round rows of the audience. The place and its surrounding had been heavy with squirm and chatter, laughter even. Was no greater indication of success and money well spent than an excited crowd, the said sight like a long lost treasure to her. It made her smile, widely. This was what she had been waiting for, in great anticipation.

    Launching the opening festivities was not all that had been scheduled for today however, for she had received a surprising contact a mere week ago. There had been whispers in her ear, speaking of a notable noble from the mainland arriving for an audience with the Queen Astharoshe, but since their choice of scenery had been upon Ildri and Castle Evermore rather than her humble port city - which she reconed was nothing but reasonable - she had not particularly bothered to drag her bones over to the capital for a potential meet and greet. Besides, she had been terribly busy.

    Was only to her surprise - since she needed no more than two hands to count those that knew her around these parts - that the said man had chosen single-handedly to initiate a short correspondence with her dignified person, more so that they had done it in such charming and professional verbal artistry. Not to mention such display of individual thoughtfulness was enough to knock her narcissistic slippers off. A Morrimian Highborn that knew of her questionable power, funds and endeavours? My, my. Should she not have gained enough such shallow compliments already in regular basis, she might have been flattered. Just a little anyway. She had naturally accepted their proposal for meeting and suggested in turn that they join her for the opening of her Felix Culpa -as she had wittily named her theatrum - over a crate of wine and other refreshments.

    She had arrived to the spot of action early, in order to ensure and witness personally that all preparations were made accordingly. At the beginning there would be live music and fire, along with dancers, a little Ashokan import she had chosen to slip in, after which the real deal would be evidently released. And then, simple as Sun shone and day was clear, a collection of beasts would fight to the Death under her unbreakable stare. She looked forward to that in an extent that was nearing deranged. Was quite delightful sport really, taking one could profit on the side by selling peanuts and taking bets.

    The current of the day was high noon, the Angkarian Sun stabbing through the canvas roofing above her, giving everything under it a reddish tint. Sigvard laid in her whitewood armchair lazily, her cold hues staring at the empty, smoothened pit of sand before her. Against her usual custom she wore a hooded headpiece, her dark hair braided carefully under it. From the back of the cowl sprouted a theatrical amount of lush white feathers, mounted on a complicated silver frame that kept the whole ordeal in place at the back of her head. The rest of her attire was of the same flowing fabric, its colour a bluish teal with silver accents, and for this once she had not hid her lower arms. Rather used them openly. Should she have been endothermic, she might have been hot in her many layers of garments. She did fan herself with her hand subtly a few times, just to not seem too comfortable. Poor humans.

    The festivities had not begun yet, thus why she wasn't concerning herself with the emptiness of the chair next to her as of yet. It was similar to hers, quite the duplicate really, with a sturdy whitewood frame and generous cushioning of rich amber, the only difference being the extra mile she had gone to mark a special spot for her Guest. Having done some research as a huge supporter of unnecessary detail, she had known to arrange a banner of crimson silk, with a fourpointed star embroidered upon it in tasteful silver. She had snickered lightly to herself after noticing it fit over the seat in a quite lovely fashion, what with being placed and folded in a laid-back and earthly manner.

    The first beat of the ceremonial drums finally struck, awakening her from her half slumber, and below broad -and equally tall- doors opened to let all the performers and contestants to make a full circle around the Arena. As in to show the goods, before most of them were to be brutally obliterated and mutilated in a series of screams and roars. Sigvard brought her decorated hands to an applause, but paused not too many seconds in due to the new sound approaching from behind. Almost like narrated by the pretentious, deep drumming, footsteps took to her direction. She glanced over her shoulder, unable to prevent a mischievous smile breaking her imperious glare, the curling of her corners erasing all that made her a ruthless businesslady in appearance. Ten out of ten for entré. She liked them already.

    She stood in serpentine grace, bowing her head in a dainty dip of her chin and offering one chiming hand to the noble, wrist first.
    " Welcome, Ser de Hollemark, to mine modest event. I hope Your travel to our beloved Zedrin wasn't too much of an inconvenience, taking how far you've come to begin with. The festivities are about to begin, please be seated. " Her pale hand gestured in airy movement straightforwardly and she did according to her own suggestion, levering herself back to seating. Wasn't many seconds in that she crept a distantly grinning gaze at the Duke, dabbing her lips with her heavy index.

    " So... How can I be of assistance to Your estate and person, Ser? In utmost and honest truth. "
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    Leofric de Hollemark
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    The trip north had been an experience, to say the least. He had sent a runner forth as soon as he had been received and settled into quarters chosen by Her Majesty, and had waited in his lavish surroundings for a reply. His stay had been pleasurable, and something of an education, as he observed the comings and goings of the Angkarian Court. He could understand none of what was said, but he could read the flow of situations, the narrative given by the tone of their voice, the manner of their gestures, and the positioning of bodies. All in all, he decided, it was utterly similar to that of Morrim, though with more vivid clothes, and a little more passionate than the cool negotiations of his homeland.

    His expedition had begun, of course, with a political bent. Both his retainers, and those Angkarians who had charge of him, had resisted the idea of going to Zedrin, especially accompanied by only a local guide. He had apparently acquiesced to them, and then slipped out in the early hours of the morning, mounting one his favourite steeds as he was led out of the city by a painted tribesman. The man was in his twenties, and always moved in an easy lope that was a match for a fast trot. He was perennially smiling, and seemed utterly tireless. His command of Common was somewhat rudimentary, but they muddled along as they traversed the trails that wound northwards, leaving the Angkarian city behind for its wilder cousin.

    The trip through Stratera had floored the Duke. The sheer density of the vegetation was unlike anything on Soare, even the Erth'netora could not hope to match the vast trees, the vines and creepers that bound them together. What was more stunning to him was the huge variety of sights and sounds - monkeys came to them on their stops for meals, mischief in their eyes as they begged for food or stole it outright, retreating into the trees to howl with laughter. The pealing cries of strange birds were a constant companion, and annoying, large insects buzzed about them frequently. Both the Duke and his guide made good progress though, taking but two days to reach the outskirts of the port city.

    The city itself was a curious concoction, with slums leading into odd houses on stilts, standing in the waters of the bay. Everywhere there were temples, everywhere the painted effigies of their numerous Gods. They threaded through the busy streets, ignoring pleading beggars allured by the presence of his horse, and headed into the stone-built quarter which was obviously the home of the wealthier denizens. As they neared it, a vast, circular structure loomed over it like a colossus, emitting a dull roar, like that of the surging tide.

    Almost immediately upon entering the stone-built Rich Quarter, they were approached by robed maidens. Leofric initially thought them to be whores, before they announced themselves to be emissaries of the Lady Sigvard. His horse was led away to grain and water, and he himself was accompanied up into the arena. The milling crowds parted for them, and it seemed mere moments before he was mounting spiralling stairs, always moving upwards, into the place of highest prestige.

    He stepped into the terrace box, shielded by the canvas above, and took in the woman before him. Or, was she a woman? Her appearance arrested his gaze, and he completely ignored the dancing spectacle that was unfolding - her flesh was deathly pale, what he could see of it outside of her robes, and her face was as flat as a sword's blade. It took all of his will to not raise an eyebrow at her four limbs. Instead, he adopted a dazzling smile, moving before her and sweeping into a bow - he would not brook a greeting distracted by spectacle. As her words washed over him, he straightened, noting with appreciation the crimson silk that lay over the proffered chair.

    "My Lady Sigvard, an honour to be in your presence. I was surprised by the alacrity of your response." he spoke, moving to the chair "I began that correspondence with the belief that we have common ground, and a mutual interest. We could begin a relationship of mutual benefit, despite our differing... arenas. May I sit?"

    He waited a moment for her response, before he swept into the chair, crossing his legs high at the knee, and clasping his bejewelled fingers around his knee. He allowed himself to take in the dancing, the swirling silks of myriad colour whirling around with a flowing grace under the ministrations of the dancers. He had not seen their like before, and conjectured they were of Ashokan origin, given the Lady's connections.

    "Ah! Frankness, I appreciate it - the middling pleasantries of the gentry have their place, of course, but with business I prefer to keep a straight face. Very well, we shall begin. I understand that you have recently fled the tyranny on the sands, from a position of no small influence. Might I inquire as to what precipitated such a move? I take a special interest in the happenings of Ashoka these days, what little news come from the wretched place, and would appreciate your esteemed opinion on it."

    He had stated his intent, though masked it somewhat. Now, to offer something of a carrot to her.

    "I am also interested in collaborating in some mercantile ventures - I control a fair stake in the city of Fairin, which I understand you have no stake in as of yet. I can open this market to you, with sage advice, and a small greasing of the administrative wheels. Should you prove interested, that is."
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    Sigvard
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    Hah, frankness. I'd rather call it reasonable rushing.

    After all, it wasn't like she was to woo them or anything. Much. She smiled to their words, turning her pleased and hideously self-assured gaze away for a moment, fixing upon the current performance. As the man went on, Sigvard snapped her fingers over her shoulder swiftly - almost carelessly - in mute order to the two Ladies that stood in their separate corners of the terrace. Thus far they had been holding and waving huge fans made out of the tails of albino peacocks, but as of her command they took quickly to hassle around the more or less highborn duo. The bares of their foot thud softly against the wooden floor as they circled around, conjuring twin glasses of imported red -must have been Sotoan- and offering them on some modest silver trays. Sigvard picked hers up in a nod, positioning the crystal on her cupped palm.

    " You're correct in some extent. I do have certain... understandings achieved between my business and the Inquisition, to unveil a fragment of the complexity. Therefore one might see my position as one of influence. But, as Ashoka is under the purest and most primitive form of Despotism, even the highest officials are powerless in front of the Moghul. General Order hands in the balance, trying to gain footing amidst Orion's whims and actions driven by wavering sanity. The rumours of rising instabilities are growing louder and more believable each day. "
    She paused, taking a light swig, her other arms sounding out an idle clap as the saltatrices exited the stage, leaving behind a roaring round of applause and a fading cloud of dust from their distancing feet. Her grin widened and she titled her frame to lean against her elbow, nearing onto her conversational partner secretively.

    " Thus I would call my move as an evasive manoeuvre, rather than a fleetfoot act of cowardice. " Her smile was both endearing and adoring, yet the cold eyes that stared at the noble held a sense of experimental danger. Or adventure maybe. She twirled the wine under her breath before continuing once more.

    " Of course, should You still think less of me, I can take all of the former back and claim that I simply craved a change of scenery. Not to mention Angkar is so-very-lovely this time of the Year. This is simply my Holiday, mainly for the tight strings of my trader's nerves, for I could never abandon Eldahar completely. Ashoka is my home. Plus, I put too much time and effort in decorating that Brothel to just tear it down. I might be a woman, but most certainly not insane. " Not that I would admit if I was, by the Mothers. She waved her hand in the end playfully, as if dismissive, chuckling in a manner that told no truth if she was serious or not. Should the man get offended by the partial disappearance of her business face, it was to their own fault really. They were the one asking questions, in a manner and context that made her react the way she just had. She had not taken them for too uptight of a politician though, by their letter and manners so far. Ah well, if they ended up as such, she would learn of it soon enough.

    What did they want with Ashoka anyway. That place was nothing but a Disorder of massive extent, downridden dot of white dirt driven by desires of drugged men. Or maybe all that was the exact reason they held interest to it, the insignificance and scatter of it all.

    Divide et Impera.

    Sigvard noticed her stare returning to hover on the Duke's emerald hues, her features rather measuring and nearing a half frown as she traced every angle of the charismatic profile. Her own thoughts rung in her head, having a heavy echo that seemed to slow the time and distance her from the moment. Her partial lucid dreaming was short lived however, a strike of a gong forcing her to attach her attention over the honoured Arena. Ah, it was time for her favourite part. She clapped, pretending she had been rather ponderant over something, instead of getting lost into the man's foreign appearance so openly, slipping them a quick glance.

    " Ventures You say... In such a distant land as the Morrimian coast. " She dabbed her bottom lip as if in thought. " I have to admit You make me feel rather adventurous. And tempted to jump into that offer without much question. I do have to ask one thing however... " Holding the conclusion of her words, she threw a look at the wide gates that had opened once again, now unleashing one magnificent winged lizard from each side. The building squirmed under their steps, taunts and roars of bestial aggression sounding in an almost ultrasonic dimension, chains around their necks clinking in tune to their agravated movement. To endorse the scene further, Sigvard gestured one of the girls once again, their step carrying a dainty figure next to her. In their fingertips they held yet another of her imports, already smoldering. Sigvard hummed, accepting the offering and placing the ivory stem of the pipe between her teeth. As she bit it, her features morphed a cryptic grin.

    " Which one of my many exports are you willing to bless your Country with, Ser de Hollemark? "

    The Drakes, The Damsels or the Drugs?
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    Leofric de Hollemark
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    The upright position was maintained, as his gaze scoured the unearthly features of his companion. With humans, he was a master at reading their intent - the flicker of an eye, the rhythm of breath, the speed of language used. He couldn't even begin to fathom where she had ascended, or descended from - he would have to make the best of his intuition, to try and translate her physical tells. This was exactly political fencing as he was used to, and therefore carried much less gravity, but it never paid to let one's guard down. Still, she was powerful - evidenced by the vast expense that had obviously been spent in creating such a spectacle, and raising the structure to house it - and therefore incredibly useful, though equally dangerous.

    This is simply my Holiday, mainly for the tight strings of my trader's nerves, for I could never abandon Eldahar completely. Ashoka is my home...

    This was good to hear. He could win influence in Angkar through the political system - he believed he had made a resounding enough impression for his words to later carry weight on the Island Kingdom. However, his plans for the desert state required a bit more of a logistical element - and the establishment was utterly closed to him. Not that he particularly wanted to achieve his objectives with honeyed words. Sigvard's knowledge and connections would prove indispensible, should he be able to reap the harvest he was sowing.

    "Of course, I quite understand how a change of scenery is beneficial for one's state of mind. Especially when the currents of your native land are set against your desired course. I myself brace against the floodwaters of courtly will - one must bend to them, otherwise you shall be broken, and ruin will be all that you hold. Why else would I be here, my good Lady?" he said smoothly, his voice slick with empathy "Nevertheless, one must always cast seeds to the wind. One never knows what shall sprout as the result of such labours."

    Their gazes met, like icy wind upon an old cliff, and both as hard as their respective cousins - emeralds and sapphires clashing, and grinding into one another. He found himself slightly captivated by her unearthliness, the vast, piercing blue against white snow, with the pointed teeth the only signifier of menace edging the beguiling blankness. He kept his features as passive as her own, and the noise of the arena seemed to fall to a distant hum. Suddenly, two of her four hands came up in a clap, dispelling the aura, and his gaze was distracted to the sands.

    Two large beasts, all scale and tooth and muscle, lumbered into the arena. Their footfalls were heavy, and dense, and were punctuated only by the rattling of the vast chains that restrained them. The grunted, and roared, and seemed to shake the very earth and rattle the bones of the dead. Leofric was simultaneously interested in the obvious contest about to unfold, and disgusted. In Morrim, such physical contests were about displaying nobility, skill on horseback and strength of arms. Such bestial agression was for the bear-baiting commons - though his blood ran a little quicker with excitement. Of course, his face remained passive.

    Which one of my many exports are you willing to bless your Country with, Ser de Hollemark?

    Her searching question, and devilish grin amidst a puff of smoke, left a rather sulphurous impression upon him. He knew her principal interests were in the arena of the unsavoury, and had been thinking of ways to bridle the more extreme elements of her business. Women were fine - in fact, rather welcome, if his plans for the expansion of Fairin were to bear fruit. Having a world class establishment in the carnal arts would only serve to aid it. As for the drugs, he would have none of it - he didn't need any number of the commoners becoming feckless and dependent, not in a land where strong backs were needed to till the earth.

    "I must admit, it makes me pause for thought, my Lady." he gave a chuckle, easing into his mercantile mindset "I plan to expand Fairin, perhaps build a second or third dock, and a warehouse district, as well as the necessary housing to support the hopeful influx of workers. There could a room for a prominent establishment."

    His sentence was punctuated by a guttural roar, low and loud, as the two drakes sized one another up. The other responded, and the whole crowd were silenced by the joint expression of bestial majesty. He turned once more to the strange woman, one eyebrow raised.

    "I say. How much does one of those fetch on the stall?"
    Edited by Leofric de Hollemark, Nov 18 2014, 11:28 PM.
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    Sigvard
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    Hnn. As long as You don't pause for too long. I might always change my mind.

    Sigvard smiled even wider in false amusement, dismissing the girl in a quick sweep of her arm and leaning back onto her comfortable seat, eyes on the spectacle taking place. Whilst the other spoke further, some yadayadabibedibabedibuu about expanding their area of influence, she sat static, nodding once in a while as if having interest. At least they had called her a Lady. There had been this merchant once who had in their ignorance -- presumed so, since not one person was stupid enough to title her anything but Lady once they knew her -- hollered out the prefix Miss whilst addressing her, to which she had of course responded most calmly and appropriately. By having the man bound and hung into the gallows at the main square by their thumbs, then gutted and eaten by a flock of harpies on the spot. After which she had proclaimed herself as the owner of their collection of rugs and made quite a bit of money.

    If her grin hadn't already been at its widest, it might have gotten a bit more hideous over the mental replay of things past. The noble's words chimed in resonance at her side and she had to force herself from observing the battling beasts in order to regain grasp of the current. She had caught bits of the babble, something with the delightful word 'prominent'. The Snakeling mused that if there was anything she had in common with this man it must have been the fondness for such an adjective. And all its cousins, including Prosperous, Pretentious and Profitable. She hummed a little, her tune overrun by the roar of the environment, both human and beast.

    As it finally came to the inevitable, the verbal excursion to the world of expenses, her utmost attention was captured. Almost mimicing her Guest, she raised a nonexistent pale brow in both thought and tease, eyes half-lidded to further portray calculation and means that wavered back and forth. She exhaled to the side, so to not grace the noble too extensively by the sweet smoke, turning sideways on her seat. An elbow was hoisted on the back of the chair, to support her cheek.

    " It depends on the Quality of the Merchandise, along with a few other discussable variables such as Quantity. " Her slight hiss composed from between her teeth as she put the stem aside for a light moment. " Most importantly, are You a man of Prime, Ser Leofric? " Taking a mischievous smirk she paused and let her gaze travel on their character markingly, from their eyes to the tips of their boots and back again, as if openly judgemental. In truth, she was just toying, unable to suspend her generic mannerisms from taking contact with the situation. There was no such things as ' All work and No fun ' to her, they were always connected. More or less. Was depending on the candidate if they were up for what it meant to be her business partner, if they were to put up with her ways or raise their hands at it all and walk away. She rather liked this man so far, thus why she hoped them to not be of the severely serious kind.

    One more thing.

    " Or is Your favour on the Affordable, perhaps. " She added after a brief silence, the forever irresistable rethoric question. It is not like your lowly landsmen will know the difference between a first class courtesan and a regular hooker, or care for that matter. But, do You? Will it matter? " As a business lady, and due to the fact that I've grown to rather like Your style, my Ser Leofric, I am prone to offer certain advantages to stable long-term partners, some of which are monetary. Naturally it is all bound to Your respected trustworthiness, of which I have little doubt. " Purchase one, get another for free, eh? Or just get the Regular Patron certificate and get even more. She bit the pipe again and straightened her position into a more ladylike posture, signaling a withdrawal. It was their turn now, to script out the next part of their two-man play. On the meanwhile, she occupied herself with the outdoor theatre that was her surrounding, the two centerpieces finally having taken contact in an archaic tryout.

    The battle was primitive, an universal display of two battling forces understandable by just about anyone, the reasons behind the clatter of claws and fangs being the simplest and most original to all forms of life. It was weirdly soothing, she thought, since it couldn't be the drug making her feel such a way. Made her wonder really if she could've taken this Hollemark character down in a similar single-handed and unarmed combat, with nothing but her wit and innate ability. A stray glimpse was cast upon them for a fleeting second. Hnh, maybe she could. They did look and seem horribly forceful though, both brain and body. An excellent challenge, no doubt.
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    Leofric de Hollemark
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    As the two beasts squared up to one another, he turned to gaze at his decidedly dangerous host. Her brow, above her vast eyes, seemed to morph and undulate oddly, as if it were filled with a thick liquid. He realised quickly that she had no brows - something that had escaped his notice - and that this was probably an expression of sorts. He raised his cheeks in an easy smile, as the beasts roared once more, the sound causing his very bones to tremble, and yet his gaze remained upon her. She turned, and her smile widened, almost impossibly, revealing rows upon rows of terrifying teeth. He would not be perturbed - it seemed he had piqued her interest, in some way or another.

    Most importantly, are You a man of Prime, Ser Leofric?

    He blinked slowly, wondering what possible game she could be playing. Those teeth seemed to beckon to him, like the jagged stone sentinels around the coast, promising nothing but ruin. He blinked again, dismissing such thoughts from his mind. She was valuable to him - wealthy and influential Ashokans outside of the establishment were exceptionally rare; indeed, she was something of a singularity in that regard - though he would have to keep his eyes upon her. With most people, one merely had to watch the hand opposite to that which was proffered - with her, he had three others to keep his eye on.

    "I am of whatever worth that you have judged, my Lady, given your generous hosting of my person."

    He smiled once more. She was being cagey about the price. As one should! This pleased a part of him greatly - though she hailed from those damnable northern sands, and was somewhat inhuman in appearance, she at least had some trappings of nobility about her politess. The extravagant robes about her person and the luxurious feathers atop her head were the trappings of commodity - it was an easy feat to appear noble, if one had wealth. It was a decidedly more difficult one to play the role. She seemed to withdraw, to witness the first blows of the unfolding combat.

    His eyes widened and the sheer brute power of the beasts as the collided and came apart. It was almost elemental, like a too-pregnant spring cloud that rains and trains for days without end, destroying carefully the new seedlings in an unstoppable torrent. They lurched, and lunged, and roared, smashing into one another with a fury unmatched. Yes, he could rather get used to this. He imagined it would be similar should the rules of conduct be revoked in a joust - death or glory. The sweet smoke from her pipe wafted to his flared nostrils, though he made no attempt to dispel the small coiled pall.

    They came together again with a mighty crack, both taking a wound from the other, and lurched apart, both taken aback by the pain and the blood. They retreated a half step, before they began a wary circle, their breath huffing, and giving a small gout of flame on occasion. He immediately broke into a polite flutter of applause, before he turned once more to the Lady, flashing his own, rather less menacing, set of teeth at her.

    "Such a display!" he broke into applause for another moment, giving a light laugh "Such ferocity has surely never been seen by so many! Perhaps for the victims of the Dark Conquest, but that is a bestiality of a different sort. The kind of beasts that dwell in men, as opposed to this unadulterated majesty."

    His attention was distracted as the mighty pair slowed their circle, the crowd hushed in anticipation. One lunged, and the other skittered away, leading to a ripple of laughter from the commons. It was pursued, to a great and rising applause, and they began to tussle once more. Great paws thudded heavily against thick hides, and their tails swished to and fro, kicking up the sand in great waves and obscuring the contest. Once it had calmed, he turned once more.

    "I desire to know of Ashoka, my dear Lady. Especially the figures of influence around Etruria, and how strong the grasp of the Moghul is in that region. I understand the Navy is stationed there, in the bay of Tamarind. I would be curious as to their effective strength. There are many Morrimians, and those descended from the forebears of my countrymen, living in that port. It pains me to think they may suffer under such a harsh yoke."
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    Sigvard
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    // This bursted into a weird dangle of Sigfeels? I apologize in advance. //

    Generous indeed.

    They were seriously indulging her with all the noble compliments known to honest men, yet keeping a most pleasing veil of obscure upon all detail. She had to severely restrain herself from throwing her most dignified person upon their feet and giving it all gratis, just for another sentence in the exceedingly satisfying conversation she had taken part in for a good decade. Her gaze dipped to their polished boots in subtle contemplation. Of course, she wasn't one to do such unladylike things, certainly. Not that she doubted the delightfulness of minionship under their banner, but rather because she had her own hidden desires for Power. If she had cast herself into a lowly follower, she might have destroyed that which ruled over her. It had happened before and it would happen again. For once, she didn't want it to happen, not in complete and direct truth, no.

    They would be best letting her weave according to her ownest schticks though, whenever her silken slippers were to come in contact with this... Fairin. She had plans of her own, like those of exporting the unwanted narcotics accidentaly all across Morrim along with her trusted ladies and lizards, beginning yet another conquest that was to snake its grasp all across Soare. She had staid contained and stationary for long enough, it was about time she spread her arms to as many headings she could possibly handle at once. If her confidence upon her exalted abilities was to be proven wrong however... Well... She could always disappear. And then eat someone and take their title, riches and appearance. Maybe their spouse too. Hell, maybe she would end up doing so to this Leofric, should they double-cross her at some point, as a justified act of vengeance and other twisted desires. But mainly because they would've made a handsome disguise. And had quite the portion of power and land to start with, to build up from.

    The tastefully dressed duo remained silent for a moment, overwhelmed by the environment that was quite the opposite. All of the aerial plane was floating thick with held breaths and exhausted huffs, occasionally bursting into a tidal wave of exhales and rumbling bellows. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the simulated wilderness around her in a smile. This is what it must have been in the earliest days, dawns of time, all around, the ultimate laws and selection of Nature. Without the flicker of cheers anyway.

    She snapped out of her imaginary depths when her Guest reminded her of their honoured presence, flashing what must have been that exact spontaneous smile she had awaited for a good few minutes now. Well finally, an expression she truly understood, in place what could have been just another vague verbal description of amusement, with no visible proof. Her mouth tilted into a peaceful smirk, expanding just a tad when the man erupted a landslide of praise, the frosting upon the already delicious roll of sweet. Yet, she had appreciated the morphing of features in way greater extent. An image always told a greater story than a thousand words. She was too vain to care if the smile had been feigned, just another trick of cold-to-the-core salesmanship, for all that mattered to her was that it had surfaced in the first place. For that tiny moment.

    Such magnificent bits of attention were condemned to leave her thirsting for more, the insatiable being as she was. Her Hedonism and Narcissism were her curse, her blessing, her driving force and her purpose. Such qualities had gained her many titles, Hearthless, Harrowing and Ruthless being those on the top of the list, all except the first being correct. She did sport feelings as any other, but they tend to be... terribly centralized and overrun. Was in her lifeblood and heritage, the stained straws of her ancient fabric, to be selfish. To exist forever, unaging and undying, in the crossfire of Adoration from her adherents, Envy of her competitors and crippling Hate of her enemies, with the ultimate goal of getting more of them all and cackling terribly at those that fell behind. To prosper along and against the wishes of those that surrounded, both proving herself a valuable ally and a dangerous opponent. She mused that this must have been the first time she had been so close to stepping onto a path that was to complete her occurence if successful, binding the circle of potential with a gilded ribbon.

    Or then she was just reacting overpouringly to hints of promises and some stray rumours, putting emotion and hope over reason. Nevertheless, she was always ready to risk it all, for that ripple of personal Utopia whenever it emerged. In this particular Man, it had, brighter than ever.

    - I desire to know of Ashoka...

    Ah, for crying out loud. A wince in the Wind, one of purely political proportion and perception. How tireing. Couldn't they just... enjoy the show for a moment. She almost rolled her orbs somewhat, hoisting herself from her seat in a swish of her silks and taking to the railing of the skybox, suspending her lean figure on it against sharp elbows in feigned serenity. Her lower arms bent behind her back, slender digits playing with her many rings, whilst the other two busied with holding her glass of wine before her. The ivory bit clattered between her teeth as she moved it from side to side in thought.

    She could've been using her time by conjuring a reasonable answer, or a lie that would have made her seem as if she knew Orion's tiniest thought, like her Guest was in their delusions expecting, but instead was pondering upon the best way of gagging this Man. And dragging them into some shady den for the best ride they had ever gotten, something of a mindblowing roundtrip. Maybe that would occupy their thought with something else but the Moghul's respectable brainstems. Of course, there was the possibility they wouldn't. Darn these Morrimian, grass-arsed folk, had her at a terrifying dead end, cornered. They had not even glanced at her girls' natural aids, she reconed as of then, made her wonder if they preferred Sheep. Didn't they have quite a bit of them at the Plains and such? Explains.

    " Hnn, as far as my connections and their information goes... " She exhaled finally, creeping a peaceful glimpse at the Highborn, light adoration and secrery in her voice. " ...the Moghul doesn't exactly frequent Etruria. There is, in the end, a vast mass of barren land between the dearest Eldahar and the Scythe of Ashoka alone. In my Mind, He is a Man fond of the comfortable and effortless. " The corners of her lips curled into a dainty smirk and she turned in her place halfly. " Yet again, I might be wrong. Maybe He has been able to collect and assign an Underground Troupe, to stay stationary in such a peaceful city, scooping from the power reserves of the Mother Capital. All in the solemn desire of keeping Your respected kinsmen captive in a distant dock. He is, after all, quite imaginative. " Meaning mentally disturbed and unpredictable. A hand was thrown about, in a vague indecisive gesture. She paused for not longer than a hesitant three seconds, planting a piercing stare of her chilly hues upon their earthly gaze.

    " Are You a daring Conquerer, Ser Leofric? " Are You pursuing to be my next High King even, thinking Yourself worthy of ruling our beloved Desert Jewel? Or is Your intention purely to... stir, rather than assault? Her serpentine vocals hummed, in a sentence that's edges her tongue made sure to grind off. Might have been a bit too straightforward, even of her, to voice suggestions of downfalls and uprisings as of yet, not to mention in public. A stray index wandered to dab her cheek whilst the rest of her shifted upon one leg in a light inquisitive tilt of her hips, wisps of fog framing the portrait of curiosity that was her face.
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    Leofric de Hollemark
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    The drakes still circled warily, even in wounds, though one held a clear advantage in terms of morale. They growled lowly, just audible through the swirling sands - it was through these rumblings that the fight was now judged. No blows were landed, from what the noble could hear, though he could see the tips of gargantuan tails swinging violently, hurling more sand into the air. The crowd were eager for action, and he could here passionate exclamations in their musical native tongue - those of frustration, and of excitement. They obviously did not wish their view of the titanic contest to be obscured, especially since, he assumed, a great many of them would have placed wagers on the outcome.

    At his words, the Lady rose from her chair, her four arms splayed out in triple action - at once she was imperious, hands behind her back; refined, sipping at her wine; and devilish, billowing that sweet-smelling smoke from that elegant pipe. Had his words flustered her, or worse, irritated her? He had thought his straight talking would have won him a little favour, at least. She was a merchant, after all - though her wares were no doubt nefarious they were wares nonetheless. Perhaps she had little information to give, and resented being presented with her ignorance. Perhaps she was just a little homesick, and despised reminders. He did not know, and she remained an elusive read.

    A barely clothed woman came forward, flowing silk almost translucent against her skin, and leaned forward slowly to grace his hand with a silver goblet, filled politely with thick red wine. Her brown eyes seemed heavy with lust - no doubt a practised performance - and she smiled mischievously, keeping herself bent forward for a number of heartbeats, before rising slowly. She was amply equipped, to say the least, though his gaze had never left her eyes. He thanked her with a smile and a nod, before sipping daintily from the cup. It was full, and a little sour - nevertheless, it was an excellent choice. Though he preferred beer and gin - the favoured drinks of his homeland -he had to admire good taste.

    He sipped at it again, as his fabulous host graced him with a reply, dressing her intelligence of Etruria most eloquently. Her words confirmed his prior musings of it - though he would perhaps endeavour to set up a system of informants - with the Lady Sigvard's blessing and assistance, of course.

    "Forgive me if my words were presumptuous, my fair Lady. I know your favoured haunt was Eldahar, and that Etruria may be nothing more to you than a blip upon your periphery. It sounds well enough as I had supposed. Perhaps, with your influence and sublime knowledge of the workings of the Moghul's rule and my own means, I could set up a couple of my own countrymen there. To keep me well informed and up to date, you understand."

    He eased himself backwards, feet now crossed at the ankle, and sipped at the wine. It was certainly a fine selection, seeming more full bodied with every mouthful, and easing down the throat like silk. He wondered idly whether his eminent host had enhanced it any with her wares. Her next words nearly made him spit, but he kept his composure rather heroically.

    Are You a daring Conquerer, Ser Leofric?

    He swallowed his wine gently, before allowing himself a small chuckle. So, she had divined his ultimate purpose - not that it was difficult to do so. Etruria would be a fine asset to have - with it, Morrim would control the two closest ports to Angkar. With correct toll management, and the necessary infrastructure, he could have a near monopoly on Angkarian wares coming to Soare. He smacked his lips, before replying, his voice smooth like spilled oil.

    "By Vespasian, my good Lady. Your intelligence does you credit. As for your question, I couldn't possibly say yes." he put extra emphasis on the last word, and resisted a wink, so obvious was his obscured meaning "No, I am a fearsome opponent in the joust, or blade to blade, but have never graced the battlefield. I rightly took Andromalius as a viper, and would have naught to do with his Conquest. Let us conclude that I am merely a nobleman of no small means, gravely concerned by the fate of his countrymen."

    The sand had settled, and the two drakes still remained circling one another, vainly roaring but making no definite moves. After a number of minutes, the ground was graced by men in animal skins emerging from opposite ends of the arena, wielding long barbed spears. He surmised they were to goad the fearsome beasts into further exciting combat, as the crowd were becoming a little restless, some even booing outright.

    "My, but you do know how to manage a display, my Lady. To have the commons riotous at a bad show would be ruinous."
    Edited by Leofric de Hollemark, Nov 20 2014, 07:20 AM.
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    Sigvard
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    -.. Etruria may be nothing more to you than a blip upon your periphery.

    It indeed was. Most what she had just told them had been the work of her own individual reasoning anyway, having no underground intelligence as its base whatsoever. She figured fast enough that it had shone through as of the suggestion given in turn, but the Man proved discreet enough not to pry nor mention further. It was the game of Politess at work, more from their side than it was from hers, since she didn't have the patience nor self-control to keep all her quirks in check. They could've punished her for her political ignorance, circled around the issue and made her even more aware of how little she knew, ashamed, but instead took a rather... apologetic approach? Amusement crept into her once again, tickling out a smile. Ah, these chivalrous, mainland nobles were so funny.

    " Yes, I do understand, my great Ser. You may do as You best see fit and I will support your endeavours as if they were my own. If requested, of course. " She bared her teeth subtly, pipe dangling between them. It did riddle her as of why they chose to consult her acceptance upon the matter, a simple and insignificant effort of spying, for they certainly didn't need it. They could've just marched there and done as they pleased, then asked about it a week later and she wouldn't have known a thing. Her presence was relatively sparse at Etruria, to put it lightly, quite similar to her interest over the mentioned tip of Ashoka's beak. None of it meant that she didn't appreciate the question though, rather appreciated it. Fondled her ego quite nicely.

    Thus why she chose not to mention how she in ultimate honesty didn't give a damn about Etruria, nor any other speck of dust that dotted Ashoka, including Eldahar. She did care for her business however, so if there was to be an assault to the Capital in any possible future she wanted to make sure it prevailed, even if her Brothel and Manor were to be the last constructs standing in the smoldering remains of an entire country. Besides, her partner candidate seemed like one of old values, such as patriotism and overly good manners, and therefore she saw it best to keep from flooding out too much of her inner Truth.

    What were they to need her for, if it wasn't for her twisted love and access to Ashoka? They sure had plenty of funds, men and connections, what with having befriended the Queen of Angkar as some little birds had told her. Made her muse really if she was of less worth to them, than what they were to become to her. Not that she complained, for such a situation always proved exceedingly profitable, but rather warned herself in advance not to get too comfortable in her slippers. When the bigger picture was to emerge, with the most obscure details explored, all cards revealed, map complete, she knew they could always turn their back on her. The paranoid corners of her Mind swore for it to happen, once the first stages of sugary wooing were to be over and a cause way greater kickstarting somewhere far away from her reach, leaving her skinny arse utterly behind as a fully armed Conquest rolled forth like a speeding boulder. Yet simultaneously, another part of her was sort of looking forward to that. Ah, the uncertainty and excitement, made her feel like she was a mere hundred years old again.

    - As for your question, I couldn't possibly say yes.

    She saw their expression way satisfying than the words that followed, even if that little bit of diminishment and false submission gave her a conspiratorial grin. Yes, your sole countrymen indeed. Keeping her weirdly pleased face, Sigvard let her gaze drift to the Arena. She had almost forgotten its existence, immersed into the beauty of a satisfying conversation, the roar of the background a busy ambient. Only was she reminded of it when it finally fell quiet, nothing but exhaustion huffing from the widened nostrils of her main attractions. How disappointing. And she thought she had arranged someone to-- ah! There they come.

    A lone hand travelled to correct the feathers on her headpiece, whilst the rest of her staid relatively still, eyes trained on the barbaric addition of the scene. Guess she wouldnt have to fire anyone after all. A dozen spears shone, reflecting the Sun in a flicker when the men ran to their positions, so smoothy and swiftly that it might as well have been rehersed. A few pokes, mostly at the backsides of the lizards, was enough to recharge the vigour of their rage.

    " You flatter my humble person. I take bestial sports of this extent are not native to Your beloved Fairin? " The Snakeling questioned, waving her wine in a gentle circle. If not, I can export that too. She suspected that if she was to make it to the market she might have to hurry though, before any major wars were ignited. They mostly made the common folk tired of seeing blood and too busy to fondle breasts, not to mention too broke to have a smoke. The only customer she would have then would be the scarce nobility, should she have gained footing in the circles of questionable and unspoken first, gaining tongues that nominated her the Queen of Fun. One more spire of iron in her hungry forge.

    Down below, all didn't go as planned. There were shouts, aghast voices and a couple roars of a certain multitude that made her twist back to the battling round in a violent clink of her decorations. The front runner of the ferocious winged duo, based on the bets placed, had gained a grasp on one of the persuading spears, giving it an angry pull. The man holding it, unable to let loose out of some strange code of invincible manhood no doubt, went flying with their respected weapon, dropping their grasp mid-flight. They fell quite safely on the soft dirt, but the aggravated drake was hardly to issue style-points or an award on successful landing to its newfound prey, approaching adruptly. It pummeled forth, uncaring for the spooked spikes that stuck between its ribs.

    Ah, hell.

    Sigvard cringed in a hiss when an organic crunch of bones was heard, a ripped limb now sticking from between a set of fangs. She was aware that they had been instructed, rather harshly, not to lose their damn weapons, but that had been just pure stupidity. It seemed to have gotten the job done though, for the two animals burts back into a wrestle, steamed by brief slaughter. Those still standing reclaimed their screaming companion, then retreating and disappearing through the iron doors. Thankfully the upset crowd was quick to forget about the misfortune of her employee, maybe uncounting a few not used to bloodshed, ladyfolk mainly. The Snakeling muttered to herself, rubbing her eyes with two dainty digits. Guess she should take some sort of action...

    " Excuse me. " Her palm placed flat at her Guest in a halting gesture, another hand reaching to wave at a nearby mercenary as she moved to the back of the terrace. She had hired a whole band of them for a longer-term minionship, assigning all to several spots around the installation to keep the peace and further demonstrate authority. They had not had matching armour in their midst, but she had made sure to arrange it for them. Along with soap and combs.

    Upon entering the skybox the guardsman removed their helmet politely, setting it to the crook of their arm. Whilst Sigvard tinkered on her decorative desk, scribing a note and filling a small velvet pouch in a series of clinks, they leered at the foreign Noble in curiousity. She had to literally snap her fingers before their scar-adorned face to regain their attention once she was done, pushing a piece of paper and an amount of gold to their hands, whispering how she didn't approve them grinning at her Guests. Not that hideously anyway.

    " Give this to Selim. He'll know whom to pass it to. " She described, turning in her place and returning to her cushioned area in a chime of bracelets.
    - Wha's in it?
    " Arne's retirement. "

    There was a seconds silence, then faint clinking. She rotated in her spot, morphing an irritated glare at the man who still stood, weighing the gold. They noticed her soon enough, indecisive.

    - What if he's dead?
    " Then it is naturally passed to his wido-- Why are we even having this debate? Off you go! "
    - Psssht, maybe I oughta have mine arms ripped off too...

    And finally, they graced her with the decency of doing as originally told, throwing their helmet back over their head in a grunt. After a bow, of which half was mock, their footsteps distanced at haste, whilst their mouth kept muttering more of their resentful ideas and thoughts out loud, in depth to some of their brothers on the way down. She sighed, taking a deep inhale from her pipe.

    " I apologize for the absurdity You had to witness. I sometimes find it hard to find respectful and obedient employees on foreign soil, without the connections I have at my disposal at home. To his weak defense, I can mention he is still quite unaccustomed to his position. He'll receive a reminder for his rudeness, I assure You. " A sturdy beating should suffice. Her sincere hues directed to Leofric, searching for their look. Maybe was the turn for her interests, those of purely professional kind for once.

    " When are we expecting You to depart our beloved Angkar, if I may pry? My intention is not to rush, for I would surely desire every bit of Your delightful company all to myself, but as a Trader at heart I am forced to inquire. "
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    Leofric de Hollemark
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    The Duke sat, now in a more relaxed position, and smiled at her response. Most excellent! He knew he didn't exactly need her expertise in order to arrange such a thing, but the effectiveness of such a venture would no doubt be lubricated through use of her contacts. Things would seem far more believable if they were just retiring sailors off one her ships, than two random Morrimians that just happened to set up shop in the desert port. Such a small exercise would doubtlessly be a fine litmus test through which he could evaluate their practices together. If it proved fertile ground, he could sow more profitable seeds. And he had an eye for profit.

    Alas, no, my lady. The peasantry content themselves with bouts of boxing and wrestling matches, which are similar to this in their brutal execution, if infinitely less majestic. For the nobility, hunting or jousting provides an ample outlet for the bloodlust that builds from time to time."

    He sank further into the chair, watching the drama between the beast-masters and the drakes unfold. Both of the mighty beasts were suitably riled now, though the attention of one was focused only on its tormentors, who scattered like wheat in the wind at its advance. Except one rather foolhardy fellow, who was dismembered for his trouble. Now the wyrms were suitably enraged, the handlers fled, aside from one who gathered up his fallen comrade desperately, dragging him away from the renewed fury of the bestial combat. It was a moment of moving heroism among such an awful drama.

    The Duke sprang to his feet immediately, clapping vociferously.

    "Bravo! Bravo!" he cried, turning to Sigvard "Please, allow me to furnish that valiant gentleman somehow! Such gallantry, while usually its own reward, deserves some recognition."

    He settled down again, watching the renewed struggle, the beasts grappling with one another viciously and rolling about the sands in with alacrity. The crowd were on their feet, cheering at the barbaric display. He watched as his host made some preparation with a scarred mercenary, who had a sly look in his eye. Leofric merely nodded to the man - good terms paid for themselves. He had obviously been in some fierce scrapes, but whether this was due to daring or stupidity he could not divine.

    Once the exchange was concluded, his generous host turned to him once more. He was becoming accustomed to her alien form - rather, he enjoyed the challenge of deciphering her true intent. He placed his fingertips together gently, listening intently as she apologised for the man's conduct. He was impressed at her politess, once more.

    I apologize for the absurdity You had to witness...

    "My lady, it is of no account. I am a strange man, in a strange land. I am accustomed to stares from all comers. Not all Morrimian noblemen rise like startled swans at the eyes of the commons."

    He kept his gaze upon her, despite the roars of the crowd that punctuated the struggle of titans below them. Right here, upon this terrace, was the more interesting event. Her question as to his movements in Angkar produced a pensive look upon his face. He stayed there, jaw set just a tad, as he mulled it over. The harvest would be coming in soon, and neither he nor Osric would be there to supervise it. That, and the shifting sands of the court may have turned, and he desperately sought to enlarge his position there. He blinked languidly, before he replied.

    "I shall remain in Zedrin for tonight, my lady, and then tomorrow I shall depart for Ildri. There, I shall bid our beloved Queen farewell, and make sail for Morrim in the morning. It have rather pressing matters to attend to in both my duchy and the Court, so unfortunately my trip is a relatively short one." he said, his tone undulating almost apologetically "However, I shall return, perhaps in the autumn or winter, when both the land and the Court are less in need of my acumen. I believe that is prudent."

    He smiled at her, eyes glittering slightly.

    "And what of you, my lady? Where do the wings of fate take you in those times?"
    Edited by Leofric de Hollemark, Nov 25 2014, 03:39 AM.
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    Sigvard
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    // Derp, sorry for most clunky, I have no excuse. //

    - I am a strange man, in a strange land.

    Made her an even stranger lady then, taking she was of somewhere way farther. Upon the years she had noticed her person fitting well in the imperious and somewhat primitive scape of Eldahar though, where one seemed to be allowed to do whatever they wanted if their monetary balance was of a certain magnitude. Funds were not what she had ever lacked, was rather on the side of manners and deliberation that her actual flaws resided. Most of her was accepted by the sheer fact that she was a lady, thus provided the liberty of having quirks and loud ideas, but not all were able to digest her amount of impulsive action. She had never restrained herself from anything and never would, mostly because she was able to ignore all the feedback she gained about it, unwilling to change.
    And speaking of swans, she was currently sporting a whole one in the back of her head as a decoration. She smiled at the metaphore, brushing her headpiece in between inhales. Their ever rolling sentences were like a tickle, made her let out a little amused hiss, and she gave the man a quick nudge upon their forearm teasingly.

    Maybe she had gotten lucky then, gotten to meet that one Morrimian that wore a thick skin. Her employees had some luck then, taking she didn't get any preference on torturing them from her Guest at all. They rather seemed willing to reward their sorry arses. So far she was delighted, impressed even, but her testing was far from over. No, there was way more she wanted to see them prevail, not uncounting more foreign sports and a couple more drinks she had always wanted to taste. Also, she wished to know more of the ways of the mainland, in lenght if possible. She was slowly becoming aware that all she planned to explore and learn was not to take place on the fleeting today, yet she was positive that all her curiousity would be satisfied some day, through their prosperous and hopefully long acquaintance. There surely was time.

    Until she was to outlive them at least, naturally.

    She leaned against her elbow daintily, tilting towards the Noble in a careless and explorational manner, listening in a way that was on the literal side of careful. Like a nymph observing their latest conquest that wasn't quite aware of it and never might, suggestive and secretive at the same time. Her lips regained a slightly wonky smile, wrapping around her pipe as her eyes concentrated on submerging to the greenery before her. The background was a cacophony, the steps and struggle of serpentine giants a distant earthquake, the air heavy with dust and roar of the crowd. Invisible brows arched above drowsy half-lidded gaze in understanding and she kept nodding, occupying her seat in the manner of a dangerous empress. With an edge of seduction, yet tasteful as any noble.

    " Prudent indeed, my Ser. " She shifted a bit, announcing approval with a yet another nod. The ivory stem shuffled from side to another as she contemplated, mostly upon what she would actually be doing after today. She tended to go by a sturdy butt-feeling, living in one big unexpected impulse and extempore rather than plans and blueprints set long ago. Was a tough call which one of her lies to use now as a response to such an innocent question, so to not seem like a reckless business partner. Not as much as she was in truth anyway.

    " My whereabouts as of the next few months are still unclear, but due to my newest projects I am with some certainty to stay Here among them. Haunting our beloved Zedrin, I'd say. " Flashing a devious smirk and correcting her sleeves idly, she rose once again. It had gotten quieter as of that last, forceful shake upon the theatre, to which she reacted inspectorially. It didn't need too much wit to know what it meant, reason why her smile widened as she drifted to the edge of the skybox. One of the girls bolted to claim her wine glass and pipe, releasing her hands from all burden. Pausing mid-motion, she threw a quick glance over to Leofric, her Mind having come up with a belated addition to her latest matter.

    " Of course, should You have preference, I can arrange myself anywhere You might desire. " Her voice concluded, singing a little hum in the end. Took all her might not to wink.
    Now ready to address her original matter, her head rotated to face the Arena. All four of her arms raised towards the Sun, the clinking entirety of her trinkets reflecting like a mirror. " Plaudite! We have a Victor! " She shouted in announcement, her voice rising to unexplored altitudes. There can be only One. It had been a massacre, somewhat, thus a great success. The remaining drake, settled upon its former rival in a dominant gesture, let out a resonant roar then, as if trained to do so by her words for greater effect. Planned or not, it made a great narrative as a whole, very storybook, made her smirk really.

    Her hands came down slowly as the movement begun, mostly that of the gamblers that took to claim the little they had won. This was hardly the end however, something the rest seemed to be aware of as of their lingering presences. There would be a brief intermission, with drums and performers across the land nevertheless, after which a group of whole different beasts were to fight to an infinite death. Sigvard rubbed her hands together and steepled her fingers as the rest of the day slowly fabricated in her Mind. Yes, it would all be so... pretentious.

    Smiling like a royal cookie, or a princess that had just caught the first glimpse of her future husband, she half twirled in her place in an airy rustle of hems. " You spoke of this... jousting. Forgive my ignorance, for I have never heard of such a thing, being of the isolated and totalitarian North as I am. What is it exactly, a popular sport even? " She started, sincere and vibrant of curiousity, her dazzling form leaning against the railing behind her delicately like some fair summer maiden she most certainly wasn't.

    " I take Your well-built person is more than familiar with it, if You'll excuse my boldness. "
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    Leofric de Hollemark
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    The muscles of his back bunched and corded atop one another, as he drew his feet to him and straightened. The colossal bout, and the collective baying of the multitudinous crowd, still rang about his ears - yet his focus remained on her. The way she moved was exquisite, halfway between coy and seductive, like a predator feigning weakness to draw in unsuspecting pray. Even as the attendants moved about her, relieving her of this and that, she shone through singularly. Her face undulated and morphed into devious eyes and mischievous grins, almost perennially shrouded by the shifting wisps of smoke. He smiled again, though it concealed a need to stand, and spoke.

    "My good Lady, it would not befit your status to come traipsing at the heels of a foreigner. No, I shall return in the near future. My estates require my acumen at the turn of the season, but winter often finds me idle."

    A mighty blow was landed, and the response of the commons was nearly as deafening. A conclusion had been reached, it seemed. He gracefully pushed himself to his feet, joining the lady at the edge of the terrace, his hand reaching out and resting lightly on the carved stone of the balustrade. His pale gaze watched, as through the settling sands, the victorious wrym was yoked and cajoled back to its pen. The other, still twitching in its death throes, was ineffectively manhandled by a full complement of the Lady's retainers. Their struggle sent pang of embarrassment through the Duke, mainly for the sake of his host. Perhaps they had not trained for such an eventuality, which seemed remiss.

    Mercifully, she changed the subject to one with which he was well familiar, and he turned his body to face her fully, transferring his weight into a casual lean, one leg at a right angle and propped on the toe of his boot. His eyes were averted from the struggle that rapidly threatened to become a farce, and he smiled at her inquiry. The joust! Such a keystone of Morrimian political life, and yet so amorphous. His eyes narrowed as he groped for an appropriate explanation.

    "The most noble pursuit, my Lady. Two men mount coursers, or destriers, arrayed as if for battle. They then charge at one another, a distance of around sixty feet, and seek to unseat the other through powerful strokes - lance, horse and man all acting as one. In this manner, terrifying force is generated." he stopped for a brief pause, eyes darting back to the chair "It is not all about brute force, naturally. One has only steel through which to read the intent and movement of an opponent, and the most skilled can change the course of their strike in a half-blink of an eye. It is a game of bravery and cunning. Normally it is for sport, but occasionally feuds are settled in such a manner, as is right and honourable."

    He blinked languidly, and smiled once more. His mind wondered as to what exactly his newfound ally did in her undoubtedly abundant free time. He felt that he was the one giving away information - not that any of it was compromising to him, naturally - and that the particular flow of this river should be diverted. Perhaps even reversed.

    "I pray thee, Lady. What interests you? Naturally you are a formidable merchant, such a thing is apparent in the great works you have achieved in so short a time." he gestured, with a gentle sweep of his hand at their surrounding "I am curious as to what you find yourself doing, now you have forged such a titan of mercantilism."
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    Sigvard
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    She pictured the sport, narrowing her gaze in concentration. Lances, equines and equality among armoured men before sudden Death. Sounded quite majestic, something she would gladly derive for her own purposes, if not needing a bit of a reduce in nobility from its raw state. Whether or not such indirect defilement -- or maybe butchering would've been more fitting for a word-- of a tradition was to be accepted by the one speaking of it, she wouldn't know. Nor care, to that matter.

    - Right and honourable.

    Her head bobbed through their sentences, like a buoy waved by gentle crests, an adventitious smile lurking here and there. Her lower hands, heavy with engraved loops and gilded bonds, rested upon the railing, complexion rivaling the equally pale stone. Akin to her Guest, she dismissed the struggle down under and focused on the most important -- her business partner, who so politely had taken to her side instead of stayin seated. Their choice of position, refreshingly nonchalant to the heel, was also of her liking, taking how she herself tended to inhabit her thrones and slippers. Her head tilted playfully as she observed them, headress knelling, a surveying watch staying upon their look. Unblinking.

    - What interests You?

    Ah, what indeed. She had never really asked or answered herself that, probably because she had been so busy being interested in everything. And everyone, to add. Whenever the question was voiced however, it always took her for a pause, this time being no different. A hum escaped her in contemplation. Should she have been mindful enough, she would've probably scribed and decorated a readied answer for the Duke exclusively, but to be honest she hadn't expected them to be interested at anything of the discussed in the least. Just like she hand't foreseen the fact that their company was quite enjoyable, not to mention the sheer size of their presence. For once, it was all an endless volley of little surprises, each more unanticipated than the one before.

    Was thus why she took a few heartbeats to consider her reply, so to not disappoint her most exquisite Guest with a half an answer. To further her means, she wore her lost-in-thought face, so to not signal the truth of her brief and most calculating silence. Finally, in a type of conclusion, she hummed and simpered endearingly, if not failing when it came to looking demure. She just didn't exactly have the overall canvas, nor the dental equipment for it.

    " My interests and indulgencies are many. Though, I do find meddling with theatre and wine extremely enjoyable, above others as to say. " She dabbed her lips in between. "§ In short, yet more completely, one could say I hold passion for life and the fullest scope of living, aiming to experience it in all the colours. Even those of dubiousity and humdrum. Staying in the ever spinning carousel of events, snowed, has been my goal as of the most recent of lates. My line of self-employement provides for such generously, as is evident in the intimacy of our surrounding. " Her free hands swept around, in meaning of the hulking complex of a scenery. Of course her immortality was even a greater asset than wealth in order to 'provide generously' for her curiousity, but she had thought it somewhat tacktless to mention. Even if she had an urge to blurt out how confident she was of the vintage of the current wine, having seen it being made herself. She did poke around the suddenly risen idea of arranging their funeral though, once Death was to them claim sadly, most likely long before her. The grin that contacted her surface was totally unrelated.

    " Amidst the spectrum of many a business and giddy tendencies, there is one hue of superior quality that on pursues in contrast to the rest, as an utmost diversion. To my mundane being, such an attraction is the unreachable pearlescent of the Eldrich. " She paused again, landing a conspiratorial glance on Leofric. " Being entirely detached from, I have always held a special significance towards it. The whole concept of such power, invicible yet almost invincible, fascinates me greatly as Your person might understand. It is vastly known that our Beloved Eldahar is unable to hold any of those mastering the Arts, in functional condition at least thanks to her Captor, thus why my search is now directing to the oustide Reaches. " Her digits tapped the railing, in tune to the toll of the drums that had not taken over the background, guiding dancers and acrobats glad in gauze. The blood spilled by the former performance dotted the sand, the Arena featuring a masterpiece in modern pointillism under the feet of the next act.

    " I do not suppose You would have any Magicians among Your ranks, Ser Leofric? For I am anxious to dip into their wisdom and ways, to gain knowledge that my innate nature has forbidden me. " Her smile was soft, but the voice from within its frame honed a sharpness, a severe edge that rimmed her velvety image like stray thorns on a sphere of cotton.
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    Leofric de Hollemark
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    The conversation was flowing. The aural tides of the crowds, the chattering voices, the shouting protests and the clamour of shuffling feet was lost to him. Even the serving girls, all but nude under their flowing silks, and the mailed guarding retinue, were lost to his senses. All that existed was this colonnaded terrace, the speckled marble of the ground, and his odd, if potentially dangerous, companion. Half his mind clamoured to know more of hers; she was not giving him the most obvious of signals in regards to her intentions, though he had offered her an excellent deal.

    The other half, for a moment, was lost in reverie, his mind's eye wondering back to years past, of feats of valour on the tourney field. The thundering hooves beneath flowing cloth, the sigils of great houses upon shields and barding and pennons, the clatter of arms and armour as combatants came together at breakneck speed. Oh, the bravery, the skill! He was seized a little at the breast, almost breathless, and he recalled his last strokes the previous summer. His butted lance had driven many from their saddle, choking with the impact and the raised dust. None had dared a turn with him with a lance of war, he remembered with a heady mix of pride and disappointment.

    She spoke, and he was at once fully focused upon her again, and was arrested by those piercing too-blue eyes. He wondered if he had seen her blink thus far.

    In short, yet more completely, one could say I hold passion for life and the fullest scope of living...

    This was what he had been hoping to hear. Most master-merchants were nothing but glittering bags of avarice, eying only their money and that which was proffered, their noses so attuned to the eddying currents of markets that they had no time for the finer parts of life. As such, they were incredibly easy to manipulate, but utterly dry in their atmosphere. His plans for her were a little more elaborate, and it just would not do should the curious creature be poor company to keep. Theatre and wine were a good point of reference - despite their definite Sotoan connotations. Upon this they could converse well.

    To my mundane being, such an attraction is the unreachable pearlescent of the Eldrich.

    This caught his attention, so much so that his head involuntarily perked up. He pursed his lips a little, thinking of his cousin, fey and distant though she was. That black-clad figure with a most scholarly pedigree would be of interest to this odd creature, most certainly. But that could wait for a later day - Leofric was a cautious negotiator if nothing else. One never laid all of one's cards on the table, not when leverage might be needed in the future.

    "Alas, my Lady, I am a pious man, versed more in the graces of Vespasian than in matters eldritch, and my retinue are either fighting men or ink-swilling scriveners." said he, with a downcast air about his features "Indeed, Kinaldi has a wondrous library, filled to the brim with many tomes which would be of use to you. Madrid is also a hotbed of magickal scholarship, though I fear the Guildmasters keep their knowledge from covetous eyes with aplomb. I am an unfortunate ignorant in these matters, I must confess."

    His features eased into a smile, as his mind, like a well-oiled machine, clicked into position.

    "Surely, the City of Oracles would be worth a regal visit? Your time, undoubtedly, is precious but it is held in high regard in Morrim," his eyes glittered a little "Or does the Moghul keep it under lock and key?"
    Edited by Leofric de Hollemark, Dec 25 2014, 08:47 AM.
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    Sigvard
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    - Alas, my Lady, I am a pious man.

    Such a bummer. However, if she was any judge, those that said so mostly ended up the ones bending such a definition the most. To match their own needs and totalitarian image of the world so to say. She recognized as one of those, having faith upon her personal Gods in turns of verse and thought, yet not dependant of such powers in the least. Therefore, able to dismiss the religious dilemmas should the need rise. She sure hoped this man wasn't one to trust in their beloved Vespasian too much, or the will of any other Deity. The Divine tend to be fickle, tossing this way and that like self-assured windchimes.

    Her index went to tap her delicate chin, spark like messages coursing within her head like calculated brush strokes, thought pinpointing the cities mentioned on the imaginary map of Soare. The notion of scholars so in love with their knowledge that they chose to keep it for themselves out of spite was no news to her. What was she supposed to do around here to get them spill their Wisdom, a mass lobotomy? Cold currency hadn't really gotten her far in those uptight circles, nor any other suspicious charms and leverage she processed. It was like some club that was formed specificly to possess all that she wanted the most, but with participants that all honed a hundred percent resistance against all her skills and abilities. They could just stand there, staring with a sneer, whilst she exhausted herself without making the slightest of dents to the unbreakable armour of Decency guarding the secrets. She suspected the man in her company as of now wasn't one to give much advice either, when it came to bribing and torturing knowledge out of a specific class.

    Damn all these uncorrupt to the deepest of Hells.

    Concealing her risen frustration under a casual smile, Sigvard bobbed her head in understanding. In truth, she didn't get it why this man wasn't already so swooned over her delightful person that they weren't offering a few mages under the counter as a favour. Guess she needed to try harder. Or then just take it as a compliment, for they seemed to put strange belief upon her ability to do it all herself. Which, in fact, she would prove to be the utmost reality. Just had to murder and seduce the right people, was what it mostly came down to. She figured she surely had plenty of time to experiment in order to find that particular sweet spot, those ending dead and spoiled in process being just collateral damage.

    The pretty girls always got what they wanted, in the end.

    The words of the magical capital caught her drifting attention anew, her head snapping at the end of her serpentine neck. She almost laughed.

    " Yes, my time indeed is valuable. Enough so, that once they denied me access on their records and creative minds on the latest of Winters I haven't made the effort to visit again. " Her stare was from under her humble brow, so to mark a point. " Thus, the Moghul, no matter how tightly he clenches Ashoka inside his iron fist, has nothing to do with hindering my dignified pursuit. Is the Scholarly community themselves. " She fanned her hand in an arch, twirling after its lead to pick up her newly lit pipe from one of the servant girls that had approached quietly as a thief. Taking a soothing drag, she leaned her palm flat on the alabaster railing.

    " It is not that they are afraid I wouldn't understand the verbal exchange regarding such Powers, for it is rather pure jealousy over their beloved Knowledge holding their tongues captive. They treat discovered wisdom like a coquettish mistress; without intention to share and forever aware that She might slip away. Or be taken advantage of by another behind their backs, as is custom, should they not be careful. " Concluding in a snicker, she turned on her heel, taking a few steps inwards from the balcony. Reaching the shadow of the drapery above she shot a look over her shoulder, at that which bathed in warm evening light. She grinned. The man sure had the figure and face to be remembered, through imperious and dramatic paintings if anything.

    " Have You had the chance to explore our beloved Ildri yet? Her labyrinthine streets and alleys are quite beautiful at this hour. " Sigvard chirped, coils of smoke snaking behind her figure as she resumed a peaceful gait towards the back, as to take her leave from the skybox. " The spectacle is nearing its end, thus I'd prefer to depart before the masses bless us with a roadblock. My office and state of residence resides uptown, should Your schedule allow for a purely professional extension of our meeting. " She tapped her hands at the nearby mercenary, whom took quickly to scatter off down the staircase behind them. " I have arranged a pair of these local palanquin, litera they call them, to be our transport. We will be escorted appropriately, of course. "
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    Leofric de Hollemark
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    A spindly digit moved, snake-like, across the jaw of his opposite, coming to rest upon her sharp chin. Her eyes took on a slight mist, as if she was a place elsewhere, her mind flowing through courses unseen. His own features remained unchanged, smooth as pooled wax, keeping the corners of his mouth upturned in a slight smile, underneath the bristles of his moustache. The moment continued after he had made his reply, the merchant-lord seeming t contemplate his words most thoughtfully. Inwardly, the Duke braced himself for their imminent reply. She was like liquid, always lapping around his inquiries, seeping into his own aims and blunting their driving efforts. Doubtlessly, this one was an experienced fencer.

    At last, she spoke, reaching for her pipe in a flourish that seemed to signify dismissal, but her words conveyed an endeavour in which she had been thwarted. Her words and her tone seemed light, as if it was a matter that was of no consequence to her, but the previously-keen inquiry was at odds with it. At last, a small gap in her discourse, the revelation of a desire, an intent. His brow furrowed, his mouth a passive line in a feigned empathy - when, under that too-clean skin, his breast welled with excitement. Something at last! He had been wise to keep Asenath under wraps - now he could deploy that relationship at a more decisive time.

    "A grand shame, my lady. Alas, money can be traded for influence, but not for authority. That comes from the wise hand of Vespasian himself - an advantageous position such as your can swiftly become esteemed." he pushed himself from the rail as his opposite moved away, meeting her stabbing stare with one of his own. He straightened, cutting an authoritative silhouette, as his eyes took on a sulpherous character.

    "Political power lays dormant in a scabbard, more effective in its display than in being drawn. Patrons and associates add a considerable weight to one's name."

    At her beckoning, he followed his hostess rather dutifully. He was quite pleased with the break in conversation that followed, as her guards and attendants scrabbled to organise their transport. A palanquin? He had read of them, mainly from Ashokan poetry or traveller's accounts of the northern state, but he had yet to view one with his own eyes. They were led down the stairs, flanked by attendants at every turn, and emerged into a small yard where their exotic escort awaited.

    Thee were like beds, though covered with a peaked pavilion of silk, and vividly colourful. At each corner, there stood a man, clad only in a loincloth. Burly, and powerful, all with shaved heads, the Duke noticed that they were all roughly the same height - quite genius, he admitted to himself. Although, how he would actually mount the thing was another matter entirely. He was led by a smiling handmaiden to the litter as the troop of men raised it, before stiffly ascending and reclining. He looked over to his fey companion, and saw that they had done the same - though in a rather more graceful fashion, he had to admit.

    "An import from Ashoka, my lady?"
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    Sigvard
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    And I suppose You are a provider of such... weight.

    There had been a marking edge to their look, a faceted sharpness that she was certain to treasure in her inner imagery. Though indirect and vague by robes, the figuration of a sentence left her strangely pleased, as if she had been promised a thing if not several. Oh, she would see those records, the insides of those Minds, the proficiency within... Some day.

    With their help or without, eased or by force.

    She kept a halfly knowing smile, the rest being of regular ladylike tease, and rotated on her spot to pick out a handheld fan from atop the polished mahogany surface of her migratory workstation. A turn and she threw an airy gesture at the assigned direction to her Guest, as of no questions asked or objections uttered, after which she initiated her own advance to lead into the honourary heading. On the way there were no words, the mobile state causing a sudden death of conversational artistry and definite aversion of gazes between participants, but it was to be nothing more than an intermission of an intense impromptu. A welcome pause, for rearrangement of burdened thought and recharging of drained breath.

    The feathers of her headdress whispered, a subtle undertone amidst the swishing and clinking multitude of hems and trinkets, her orchestrated and heavily accompanied way taking downwards back to the groundly levels. The streets were enveloped in a quietness of an important eve, cold shadows being cast left and right under the warm illuminance, gusts of muffled laughter floating in some detached dimension of the moment. Nothing more but a glance was given to the Duke upon arrival to the paved yard, a regard of Politess, her gait keeping its pace towards the cushioned transport. She snapped open her accessory mid-step, its fabric painted according to pavonine patterns and rimmed with pale gold, and collected her skirts in order to ascend with grace.

    Lowering herself to seating, head held high to crown the regal posture, she took a moment to adjust the chest of her garment, if only idly. The attendants hassled around the installations for their needed seconds, straightening drapery and other visuals, until vanishing to the tail end of the escort. A group of her more armed hirelings streamed from the arena's exit, machinated to take places, and sooner than late the litters were hoisted smoothly. An inquiry reached from the modest vicinity of back right, a stray note to shatter the gathering haze of silence. She exhaled smoke, sharply through the nostrils as if in amusement, corners of her lips curling as she removed the ivory bit.

    " Yes, my Ser Leofric, they are indeed. " She tapped her digits on the cushions, folding her legs daintily as she glanced over her shoulder, leaning on one arm as the rest of her tilted playfully. " Nothing like a truly Eldaharian palanquin to make a girl feel at home. Certainly You understand, a learned man of country, establishment and priority as You are. "

    A generous set of steps enrolled to the soundscape, various kinds of footwear hammering the ground under as the collective marched on, delightfully undisturbed. The destination loomed after a modest while, a lit entrance at the end of a narrow street the beacon of conclusion. The carriers were as careful in halt as they had been in their momentum, the lowering of authoritan cargo taking place in the utmost intimacy of her newest estate. Beaming, mainly internally, she stepped off the pillowed spot and back to composed bipedal, sleeves shivering as she reminded the entire troupe of their new assignments. Like a clinking school of choreographically gifted fish, all actors and actresses adapted to the turning of page, another chapter upon the script. All according to plan.

    " Was this Your first voyage by a litera? I would say it is quite the enjoyable transit, though mine suspicion is that Your choice of mount lies upon the majesty of equine, rather. Is it the sense of control, grip upon reins and over possible individual direction that fascinates so? " Another endearing grin as she spun to face her Guest, hues soft under the minor flutter of lashes, one hand waving the fan leisurely. Her slippers took her to them before any suspense could emerge in the slightest and she set herself beside them, one jeweled hand snaking to the crook of their arm. A gentle tug was given, to guide unhurriedly, if eagerly.

    " Should I not know better, I would wish mine staff knew to expect us at this time. I, for one, am starving." She chirped, proceeding forth through the generous doorway framed by curtains of rich vermilion, to a dimly lit corridor with decor of similar shades, most accents gilded. Wisps of incense floated in the air, misted the atmosphere, their actual scents subtle and delicate. Wasn't too far in that she halted and detached from the man in a light tap upon their forearm, digits searching out a shiny doorhandle to twist open.

    Sigvard entered the new room, its many facets following the general theme of all that she had ever presented, all compressed to the intimacy of a combined office and boudoir. For consistency's sake she had made it much like the Peak was back at the Kiss, if with some differences when it came to the founding layout solutions. Her upper arms reached to remove her headwear, releasing a length of pitch wisps that fell down in a chime from under, thick braids a bit past her chin in their shiny decorations. A caress went to quickly sort the attachments, her route taking to the circular table that centered the space and kept two heavily softened seats. Atop it flickered a living light, stemming from a candle the spikey shape of a lotus and quite accurately the size of a man's head. Most delightful dimensions, she had figured.

    " Please, do take a seat, Ser. " She tossed her hand, to no spot in particular, though there wasn't exactly a quantity of them that was to present the man with a greater sort of a dilemma or crisis upon choosing. From the other side, from another door, appeared a girl that relieved her from the unemployed garment, providing a replacement in wordless exhange. The Snakeling nodded, crowning herself anew with the feathered diadem, the maiden disappearing simulatenously as swiftly and silently as they had appeared. A clinking clap brought her hands together, the tall serpentine stature stationary enough for her to gaze upon the exalted Guest, with some mischievousness.

    " An reconnaissance, if I may... " Her index shot to dab her lips and she approached, opening the other of the armchairs from under the table, pausing to hold it by the back. " Your leadership... this unbought and purely achieved authority... " Vague waves of a hand, rolling of wrist as she lowered herself to seating. " Has it been gained by Love or Fear? "

    Despite the context her face maintained an innocence and sincerity, though the chill in and beyond her look was nothing if not calculative, forever probing and monitoring. To intensify, she leaned against her elbow and cupped her cheek against her palm, stare lingering as if she was about to upbring some strife.

    " Even if it was by an equal duality, as I believe to be quite likely in a world such as ours, which do You feel signifies You as a practitioner? In the end, You do have what it takes to execute either, in their truest, both multifaceted in effect and causality. "
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    Leofric de Hollemark
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    Pushing past the folds of vivid silk, he found himself within the palanquin, as the Lady's attendants fussed about wth the draperies. He reclined on the proffered seat, and found it yielding - tight-stuffed down feather was the order of the day, beneath his regal backside - and both the back and the arms were carved beautifully, the visages and the spreading wings of avians was the theme, and the craftsman had done it well. Such a concept, of fleeting grace and the effortless movement of the soar, was difficult to put into more solid mediums. He would have to ask his companion their identity - he was in need of some newer furniture at his estate, and this had quite caught his eye.

    Rather less graceful was the sudden lurch that signalled their departure. He clung on to the carved arms, rather a little too forcefully, and succeeded in rending a nail in the process. He cursed - it was on his ring finger to make matters worse - now, none would be able to admire the workmanship of his seal without also being treated to the sight of a peasant's nail. Pushing it from his mind, he tried to focus on the journey which, aside from the initial start, was quite smooth. The streets bustled around him, and such was their positioning that he could no longer converse with the Lady, but it was a pleasant ride. It was no different to being atop a boat, even the eddies and jostles feeling familiar. Enough people could become a sea, he supposed. He idly wondered if his parting remark had hit home - would she now be thinking of covenants? Of plots and power? He dearly hoped so, but such games were fraught with peril.

    After a time, they came to a halt, and thankfully the descent of the palanquin was a good deal more graceful than the ascent. He stepped off, a little thankful to have his feet on solid ground once more, and was met by the Lady - ever a vision. It seemed as though she had grown in stature and regality, towering over the ranks of attendants that awaited them, like a disciplined army. He was impressed, he eyes only darting from her figure to scan the surroundings, as she spoke.

    Was this Your first voyage by a litera?

    He gave a bashful smile as she accurately pierced his preference, inclining his head before he made a reply.

    "Just so, my Lady. There is little more pleasurable than a fine ride on a spirited horse. One feels as if the whole world is at thy beck and call. There are other, more practical, considerations of course - it makes fine practice for the tiltyard, and fosters a spirit of independence from others, which are important facets of the Morrimian mind. But these are ancillary, of course, to the thrill of it."

    As he spoke, she appeared beside him as if in a blink of an eye. How is it she could move so silently, so covertly, when she was standing right before him? She continued to baffle the mind, but he could not afford to become bewitched and overcome by her exotic nature. His senses must remain sharp, even as her bejewelled arm became entwined with his and urged him onward.It is another Lady, although a different one, and another ball, he comforted himself, though if he was honest, it was little help. Women always made him uncomfortable - at once innocent, and deadly.

    He allowed himself to be led onward, through the main gate, nodding politely and giving the odd sound of affirmation in response to her. Tendrils of smoke snaked through the air, arresting his nostrils with scents most pleasant, though he could help but feel a little as though he were entering a pit of serpents, hypnotised by glassy eyes and flickering tails.

    Nay, came the voice from within For you are a hunter too.

    She detached from him, and opened another portal into even more heady delights. The room was large, the aesthetics delightfully feminine. Facsimiles of plants alien to him adorned it, the centrepiece of which was a many-petaled candlestick, akin to a softer thistle. He had never seen the like. The Lady moved to relieve her head of its adornments, and bid him to sit, and he averted his eyes for her modesty, given more time to take in the wondrous arrangement of the place.

    He did as he was bid, and sat into a chair more yielding than the one in the litter. His back remained straight, though he leant forward on his elbows and steepled his hands most gently, taking in her now-unaccoutred head as she pressed him with a question that was at once seductive, yet piercing. She had blocked his escape with an ambuscade - there was no middle road. He would have to soar. He took a few heartbeats to consider, his eyes never leaving her own, as he made his reply.

    "My hand has been known to both shower with largesse and punish with vitriol, my Lady. If one herds too far one way, one becomes a milksop; to the other, a tyrant. An even hand is what is required. Above this consideration, however, is a greater one - to lead, you must above all provide. My people venerate my rule because of my effective stewardship during the Hardships - with a little luck, a little largesse and, I am proud to say, a goodly amount of expertise." his waxen features crept into a grin, as he continued "And you, my Lady? We come from different worlds, you and I. How does one such as yourself conduct the business of power? It is a dangerous game, and one with many players. It would please me to know your opening gambits."
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