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Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire

Interested!

♞ T h e M a s q u e r a d e ♞

Ara really needed to get what little she could remember down on another sheet of paper before she forgets it all. Perhaps she should take this moment to review them.
4. "Accidentally" knock over a waiter and have him bowl over at least 2 others
5. Put on a different outfit and attempt to reenter the ball
9. Meet with a member of royalty
That sounds about right. As the two men were occupied with each other, Ara took the opportunity to attempt to quietly slip away from them.

Magic RP (Open to new players)

The kobold woman gave a small, sad smile. "Not my son," she said, easing her tired back into the chair. "I've spent too many worried nights tending my son's bruises for three mothers' lifetimes. He's a good child, and means the world to me. I wish he understood that, and stopped picking so many fights."

"After her," came Rughoi's command. "We can't have local guard hounding our tails." Two of his company nodded, picked up a large crossbow, and left through the door the dracon woman escaped through. Rughoi took the opportunity to survey his new domain. This was to be his castle, his base in which he shall spring from and take the world. He turned to the rest of his little warband. "At first day, strip this place clean. Reap all the crop, sell anything that isn't nailed down. We won't be staying here long."

♞ T h e M a s q u e r a d e ♞

@Banana Same here. Maybe we should continue without him?

♞ T h e M a s q u e r a d e ♞

Strange . . . my conversation seems to have ground to a halt.

Magic RP (Open to new players)

A weathered, but kindly looking kobold woman answered the door. "Erm, hello, you must be the mistress of the house. Do come in, I hope we aren't too much of a fuss." She gestured to a chair, then looked embarrassed by the fact that it was fitted for kobolds and would fit no dracon. "My apologies, mistress. This house must have been largely furnished by kobold hands. Say, you are in luck. This is the longest time I've ever spent without hearing about some trouble my son has caused. Speaking of which, you haven't seen him, have you? Rather large, answers by Rughoi."

"Go," came Rughoi's curt order. The farm's owner, judging from the windows, has blown out his last candle of the day. Slowly, ten pairs of kobold feet softly advanced across the flat fields. Upon arriving at the door, one gave a sharp knock. A sleepy-looking dracon answered, rubbing his eyes. To his surprise, at his door he found a kobold on another's shoulders, the top one wielding a comically large club. The club came down on the farmer's head, killing him.

Magic RP (Open to new players)

Rughoi poked around the house, and soon found what he was looking for. Two fellow kobolds, each standing at a towering 3'4" (as kobolds go), whispering to each other in a far corner.

"Friends," Rughoi started. Both of them turned. "Fear not, I am kobold," he quickly continued before they could grab at the knives in their belts.

"Aye. What do you want," one said.

"I have an idea that requires strong kobolds, which I take you are. If you would listen," Rughoi continued, sitting down next to them. "I have gathered through my travels a company of kobolds, eager for revolution and blood. Our dracon oppressors do not expect retaliation, which is to our advantage. So first, we'll strike at the neighboring farm over there, smaller and less populated, by . . ."

♞ T h e M a s q u e r a d e ♞

Oh no, oh dear, oh no! Apparently, Ara wasn't nearly as subtle with her hands as she thought she was. As the guy burst into his angry tirade, hundreds of expletives were running through Ara's head in as many languages as she knew (admittedly, a rather meager two). She tried to focus her eyes on something at the back of the room, and pretended that he was speaking some foreign language, probably Theolagian or Gurrivan. Then, a random person broke off from the crowd and joined them. This situation can't possibly get any worse! And to top it all off, he ripped up her cheat sheet. She only had enough time to memorize about half of them. Oh well, better make do with what she had.

♞ T h e M a s q u e r a d e ♞

Ara struggled to remember what the second instruction on the list was. It would be difficult to consult the cheat sheet with someone looking at her, watching her moves. Remain calm, try a distraction.

"Lovely to meet you, sir . . ." she began in her "nobility" voice. Then she pretended to be distracted by something. "Ooh! Tell me about that!" she said, pointing at something random over the man's shoulder. When he turned to look, she glanced down at the small note. Right, talk only about incredibly boring subjects.

♞ T h e M a s q u e r a d e ♞

Right. Don't panic, just follow the instructions. Ara clutched the sheet of paper in her hand harder. On it were specific instructions Karl had for her. She glanced down at the first one again. Show up late on a donkey. She dismounted from it, and shuffled nervously up to the large guard in plate.

"Excuse me, sir, I have here a formal invitation to the masquerade ball of Afterclaw, which I believe is going on right now?" The man brusquely snatched the letter from her hand and scanned it.

"You don't look like a Karl to me," he said, his brows furrowing.

"Gran-Earl Karl of the Feldings is my . . . elder brother. I am to attend in his stead," Ara said, in a ridiculous, high pitched imitation of the sophisticated dialect of the noble courts. The guard didn't look like he believed her, but parted his halberd to let her in anyways.