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[SUP][SUB][H3]The Ballroom[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][sup][color=silver]August 31st - Nightfall[/color][/sup][/INDENT]

[INDENT][INDENT]And the party was live. The most notable people were presented and the nightfall welcomed the heart of the night. The elegance of dusk colored the room in a gentle glow, shining off of the empty sheathes of knights, the decadent wine glasses served by servants, and the fine jewelry of the nobles. Cliques were made and discrimination came slowly with its presumed rivalries. Everyone in the room knew how fragile the treaty now was, hanging loosely on it’s final thread. 

Though, that much was obvious. Behind closed doors, deep within the barracks of Thelan and Alovia alike, were unhalted productions of weaponry and the training of pawns to this anticipated tear in the peace. Such resentment for one another seemed to never become truly washed away. What stained their blades and hands and insignias were not just the blood of their enemies, but also the black soot of their unrelenting desire for battle. Many tainted by anger, with a longing for a game of war, stood proudly on their foundation of pride and skill. 

This quest was admirable by the people—a final hope. 

But it was also denied by many with power. 

Here in this ballroom lie the many brave volunteers to aid in this last hope; to instill an unbreakable peace to restore harmony. Yet, just as in any Kingdom or Court, it has it’s tricksters that seek to sway the lawful course of action.

Here in this ballroom, an arrow whizzes through the twilight, parallel to the fiery horizon, and impaling it’s target: The King of Thelan. Piercing his chest and pinning him to his delicate throne, he became covered in blood. 

The screams erupted as the people crowded towards the perimeter of the room. The killer stepped through the tall doors of the ballroom, a longbow in hand, and a valiant sword sheathed on his hip. With his guard, they walked proudly in their Thelan tabards.[/INDENT][/INDENT]


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[SUP][SUB][H3]The Ballroom[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][sup][color=silver]August 31st - Nightfall | A Private Corner Table | Alice’s Father & Niavak Wymark[sub][@Inertia][/sub][/color][/sup][/INDENT][/url]

[INDENT][INDENT]Alice couldn’t help but chuckle at his greeting, though she was flattered by his formality. Were it not for his distinct white hair and his formal introduction, she wouldn’t have recognized him at first, he truly did fit the description of the Pale Knight. She bowed her head respectfully in response to his greeting.

Alice gave him a playful smile, [color=BDC9FF]“Well, what kind of party would it be if we didn’t get a little champagne on ourselves. I’m assuming you’re here to volunteer for the cause, judging by the way you knew my name. And what name do you go by?”[/color]

Her eyes never left his, but her attention was most definitely divided. It was true that Alice was a noble lady, delving in the affairs of the court, but only at a distance could she do it. Due to her being a woman, she wasn’t able to fully indulge in the military commands as much as she’d like to be. And though it may seem that the lack of proximity would hinder her ability to act, it benefitted her in the way that she saw things. It was true that there were many in power that opposed this, but it was unexpected that the battle would begin so soon, and in the lap of the noblemen did the frenzy lay.

The arrow flew with force, igniting the treaty in flames as it pierced the one King of Thelan. As the blood stained his garb and the screams echoed in ringing revolutions, there was soon silence as the guardsmen filed in, sword in hand, readying themselves for proper defense. Although, no resulting violence were to be suspected. As they assumed their stances, one individual made his way to the steps of the throne, his footsteps heavy with iron and leather and conviction.

[url=https://i.pinimg.com/originals/41/d8/93/41d893673579866f29ba871650601cba.jpg]Commander Mathieu Bastian[/url] turned to face the crowd with eyes grave and threatening, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. A few gasps escaped from the crowd, the nobles spoke amongst themselves. No guardsmen nor servant flinched from the predicament, and instead responded loyally to Commander Mathieu’s entrance. 

He spoke in a deep, full voice with a tone of domineering rasp, [b]“Ladies and gentlemen.”[/b] He paused for effect. [b]“Your King is dead.”[/b] He began pacing around the throne, watching the blood consume the King’s shirt and drip from the arm of the chair to the fany carpet. [b]“It’s with great honor that I have dealt the killing blow to the King himself. And it is with great respect to the throne that he sits upon, that I am rising to the occasion to put a stop to this fairytale. We sit here, we sip wine, and we stuff our face; but Alovia readies their troops for battle! The King has no right to be calling for a stalemate because he is fearful of our defeat. The King has no right to be stalling this war for the sake of his dead wife!”[/b] With that remark, it caused the crowd to begin their quiet whispering. Commander Mathieu continued on, [b]“Thelan will fight, Thelan will be victorious. To all who seek to pursue this conquest, I will see to it that Thelan will not be by your side in your endeavours. And I will see to it that your punishment to performing any task relating to this conquest will be death. Your help should be with the heart of Thelan and not with the lost idea of [i]peace[/i].”[/b] He spat the last word out, disgusted.

[b]“And finally,”[/b] he hesitated, his eyes scanning the room, a sly smirk stretching across his face. He lifted his head authoritatively and narrowed his eyes devilishly, [b]“Kill all who side with Alovia.”[/b]

The doors slammed shut, the last of the sun’s light faded until the room was lit ominously in an overpowered candlelight. Alice took a deep breath as her father, Sebastian, spoke wearily, “It seems as though the war is starting sooner than we expect. If you are to muster the volunteers well enough, perhaps you can still save us all.”

Alice remained in her seat, her fists clenched in her lap, and her eyes staring down Commander Mathieu like daggers. “Father,” she spoke strongly, [color=BDC9FF]“I suggest you take your leave now—I would hate for you to be apart of this blood bath.”[/color]

“What are you talking about, Alice?” he questioned.

Alice turned her head to the guard behind her, one of many that stood along the perimeter of the rectangular room. [color=BDC9FF]“Give them their weapons. If they are true to the cause, they will stand and fight. Protect everyone—even those of Alovia.”[/color]

Sebastian’s eyes scrolled the room, the pieces to Alice’s strategy coming together. It was Alice’s guard, and her guard only, that tended to this ball. They each bore an insignia along their tabards different than Thelan and Alovia alike. It was her family crest: a gryphon rearing into the sky with sharp claws, imprinted along the base of a round shield. One by one, they gave the fighters their weapons, fast before Commander Mathieu’s men could engage. To Dietrich, a broadsword; to Ellinor, her axe and shield; to Arun, his swift blades; to Talia, her atlatl; to Nariman, a longsword; and to Hatzur, a ring with amber, agate, sapphire, and emerald embedded in the golden band—granting her a lone reagent capable of emitting fire, earth, air, and water alike.

Alice stood, instead of offering Niavak any hand or curtsy of further introduction, she extended her arm to offer him a broadsword. [color=BDC9FF]“I’m afraid the formal gestures are over. I would hope you would accept this and fight alongside me as a different method of introduction.”[/color]

Regardless if he were to accept it or not, Alice would then reach under the table to draw her sword and shield. The first clash of weaponry sounded as the nobles crowded in the corners of the room, leaving the center of the ballroom the proper spot for battle. And to the heart of the ballroom, this beautiful ballroom, did Alice run towards to assist in the spilling of blood. The gears of war relished within the room as blood stained the novelties. . . The battle commenced.
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