Time: Evening Location: Masquerade Ball: Damien Estate Interactions: Fritz/Riona @JJ Doe, Nahir @Rodiak Daily Misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter. Predictable Costume: Leo the Lion
While Nahir, the gold standard of class, simply greeted him and said nothing about the oddly squeaky infection of his voice, her companion failed to even attempt to stifle a chuckle. “Adorable? Hardly, shrill and irritating is a more apt description.” Leo forced a smile as he spoke, a mask beneath a mask, but it served a purpose, drawing the annoyance from his words and peasantry in its place. “An odd side effect of a cold, no doubt it will pass in a day or so.” It was far from what he wanted to say, but without knowing who he was speaking with, or how close the orange woman was to Nahir, staying cordial was his best option.
Leo then felt Fritz’s hand on his shoulder as the man left to conduct his own investigation. He noted the strange fixation Nahir’s companion had as Fritz approached, the intensity of the woman’s gaze. Why is everyone so enamored with Hendrix? The man’s as charming as a persistent rash. Leo’s eyes rolled behind his mask.
His attention snapped back to Nahir as she mentioned a couple who had bumped into her companion. A common ruse for pickpockets, and it sounded like one of the suspects was a woman in dark blue wearing gloves. Finally a bit of useful information. Once the woman in the cat mask confirmed the bracelet was not hers Leo tossed it back onto the table, he head turned just enough to hide another eye roll at the suggestion of getting a servant to assist him.
“I believe these few days have already proven that the servant’s here are entirely useless. As was Damien’s bastard, whom I reported this to, but he seems more interested in finding someone to lure into his bed chambers. He was just eyeing up the same man you had your eye on.” He locked eyes with the woman in orange. “If you’d like an introduction to the charming Count Hendrix, I’d be happy to oblige once this matter is settled.” He offered before looking between the two of them, as he thought over how to address the shoe comment. Though he wondered why anyone would be removing their shoes at a ball, he did not ask.
“The shoes in that hallway are not mine. Graciously, I delegated a simple shopping trip to a palace servant, only to be met with intentional incompetence.” He shrugged, such things were par for the course in Sorian it seemed.
“Now you said a couple? So possibly two thieves, worth having a chat with this couple at least.” Leo steered the subject back on track, not wanting to delve into the sheer idiocy of a maid running messing with his shoes. “Do either of you recall anything about the woman’s partner? Did you notice their masks?” He asked, trying to remember if he’d seen the woman Nahir had described.
Time: Night Location: Edge of Lover’s Lake-Roman Ceremony Interactions: City Guards
The ceremony was abruptly interrupted by the city guards looking Violet Damien. An opportunity presented itself, the exact kind of situation that with a little fanning of the flames could spread. Not only was this deeply disrespectful but Callum had a strong suspicion that they were here not by royal decree, but on Count Damien's behalf.
“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment, looks like time for some princely-meddling.” Cal whispered to Ari, a mischievous grin widening across his face.
Roman’s men first tried to persuade the guards to leave, all while Roman himself entered fully into an enraged trance. A mixture of screams and roars erupted from Roman all at once, the sudden thunder of it was enough to make Cal jump. It was like he could feel the potential for disaster sparking through the air, the call of chaos Himself drove his feet forward. Callum stood, swaying under the inhibiting effects of the tea, moving closer to the city guards who stood with swords drawn.
“I, Prince Callum, command you to sheath your weapons immediately. On whose authority do you not only disrupt a sacred ceremony, a brazenly sacrilegious act, but when asked to leave, you draw weapons against a close friend and ally to the crown?” Callum continued forward but kept enough distance from the guards to ensure both he and they needed to shout to be heard. He wanted every word to be heard by those in attendance.
“This event is sanctioned and under the protection of the crown so by whose authority have you decided to defy the will of the crown?” Callum performed, his words flowed without second guessing, as clear and decisive an action as when he had carved words into the wall of his room. It flowed not like Edin’s rants, but as calculated and cold as Alibeth had been that morning after the forgotten after party, he wore as stern an expression as he could manage.
Time: Evening Location: Gaurav Village Interactions: Viola@13org, Phia@princess, Darius@FunnyGuy, Dante@Alivefalling, Menzai@samreaper Equipment: A pack with some supplies, seeds (in his pockets), a small knife, a mask that hangs from his belt, a weapon with a shifting charm that is either a sickle or a glaive, and a shield/drum with an unbreakable charm.
As soon as Phia voiced her approval, Cyrus immediately began carefully removing fruits from baskets on the table and repacking the baskets to bring a late night picnic to Dante and Darius. He listened and Phia continued to speak on how intriguing Dante and Darius truly were.
“Humans?” Cyrus whispered dropping a plate of carved meats back down on the with a loud clatter. “How did they get here?” He asked, but before Phia had time to respond to that he added, “Whose involved?” His mouth moved quicker than his mind, asking questions that would’ve aroused suspicion if any of the wolf-kin were around. “Much of my family died trying to free The River Fairy Kingdom from dark elf rule, if this fight has returned, I am bound to it.” His intensity flared only to flicker out as he returned to the task of filling baskets.
“I wish to help you keep your friends safe. And I will try a new path with Menzai tomorrow.”
Time: Night Location: Edge of Lover’s Lake-Roman Ceremony Interactions: Ari@Tpartywithzombi
Cal handed the bottle of whiskey back to Ari as she reached for it. Her hand, and its comforting warmth, held onto his shoulder. He wondered what made Ari dislike her shade of vibrant red. “I used to think he’d like me better if I looked more like him.” He half-heartedly gestured to his own dark hair, so unlike Edin’s or his brother’s hair.
Ari was quick to pull her hand away. “Oh, I hereby decree that Lady Ari has permission to touch the royal shoulder.” He stifled a chuckle so as not to disturb the ceremony. “But I hope you don’t think I’m that uptight that it needs said.” He added as Ari shared her thoughts on fire. Though her words slurred together, Callum followed them, his head nodding with their rhythm. He was fluent in inebriated speech and her drunken words held wisdom.
“Then may Sorian embody and be protected by the phoenix, loftiest of birds.” He whispered.
“People are like fires. Edin, a wildfire that destroys all in its path. But Roman, a fire that draws people in to settle and thrive around it. He makes incredible things in fires, sometimes deadly things, but always beautiful, always to serve a purpose.” Callum spoke softly and watched as Roman and Mina began their final song.
“And you, a fire that brings warmth on the coldest nights. I am lucky to have better fires near me.” Callum saw his own fire as one left out in the rain, caught in constant struggle not to be snuffed out, reliant on brighter flames to aid him when it dwindled to an ember unable to catch on waterlogged kindling.
As Roman’s song built, its words unknown to Callum, but somehow it helped shoulder his burden. He felt a profound gratitude for the friends he had who easily shared what warmth and light they had that he did not have on his own.
The real challenge remained; to build his fire up enough that it could help raze Sorian like a phoenix so that out of ashes it could rise towards something brighter.
Time: Evening Location: Masquerade Ball: Damien Estate Interactions: Charlotte @Princess, Fritz/Riona @JJ Doe, Mr.V @samreaper, Cassius @PapaOso, Nahir @Rodiak Daily Misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter. Predictable Costume: Leo the Lion
The bastard was a grating presence, entirely unfocused on the task at hand - his missing watch! Instead, Cassius was flirting with Charlotte, and it seemed Lottie couldn’t get away from the spawn of the dreadful count fast enough. Leo wasn’t the least bit surprised; Lottie had wits enough to see through the game house Damien was clearly playing at.
“Lord Damien, I feel left out. Will you not tell us how beautiful and strong we are too?”
And now Hendrix was teasing Cassius. As amusing as this mismatched love triangle might be on a different night, Leo currently found it infuriating.
“Surely you’ve noticed how this distinguished gentleman would be the heart of any pride?”
Leo’s eyes focused on Frtiz, a look of deep annoyance as the lid of his left eye twitched. For a brief moment, Leo was content that at least one other person here took the matter seriously as Lottie took her leave to focus on the case of the missing watch. Leo too, was more than ready to leave and continue the search so that Hendrix and Cassius could entertain each other without him.
Only to catch a glimpse of Charlotte speaking with a woman in an owl mask who wore not a hint of orange. Sure, Leo understood the desire to get as far away from Cassius as one could, but surely his having been recently robbed should matter a hair more than a social call. It seemed Sorian was no different than Stravy in that Leo’s problems would be his own to solve.
“What lovely shoes,”
Another grating voice joined in to further steer the conversation towards frivolity. Did he look like he wanted to chat about his, admittedly glorious, slippers right now!
“Lord Leo Smithwood! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Do I-” He stopped as soon as he saw the brilliant flash of orange. His tone relaxed. Not only due to the possibility that this orange woman may have his watch but she was also accompanied by Shehzadi Nahir. Now was not the time to be so overtly agitated. He returned her cursty with a full and proper bow to her and Nahir.
“Shehzadi, a pleasure as always." He greeted the royal first while forcing a smile beneath the mask, making his tone sound far friendlier than it had been.
“Good Evening, Lady, are you maybe missing this bracelet?” With a calm hand he picked the item back up off the table and gingerly held it out for the woman to inspect. “Someone stole my pocketwatch and left this in its place. I’m not accusing you, of course, but I would be deeply grateful if you wouldn’t mind checking to see if the same tom-foolery was not done to you.”
Time: Evening Location: Sailing aboard The Righteous Tern Interactions: Rue@Potter Equipment:Sword, hunting knife, a backpack with supplies, and a stoat named Raze who naps in the pocket of his vest.
“One of who?” Bowyn matched the hush tone Rue had used, wondering who Rue worried Bridget might be, or might be aligned with. A distant and haunted look quickly consumed her once peaceful expression. “Whatever Bridget is, and her alliances, barely matter. We are skilled hunters, Bardulf too, and she is just a deer. No one will take us again. On my life, Rue.” There was no need for the darkness of the past to drag Rue down as she soared.
Soon his attention was drawn to the ship’s deck and machine that Rue had spotted. Warforged, the artificial life. Not like fairies, elves, or anyother creature that roamed Avalia. They were not born, did not grow, simply machines built by others. Bowyn struggled to see any difference between such a thing and a cart or a ship or a tool.
“Doesn’t look like much of a warforged, can’t see anything that looks like a proper weapon. Unless it’s one of those real advanced ones. Probably cannon fodder. You think it’s Luum’s? He wondered. An advanced warforged with hidden weapons would be a real nice addition, something that didn’t look so dangerous but could blast it’s way through an small army. Did Luum even have that kind of amas? Doubtful. Probably a cannon fodder model, still useful. Always nice to have a machine to send towards destruction over a life.
Time: Evening Location: Gaurav Village Interactions: Phia@princess Equipment: A pack with some supplies, seeds (in his pockets), a small knife, a mask that hangs from his belt, a weapon with a shifting charm that is either a sickle or a glaive, and a shield/drum with an unbreakable charm.
A bright smile broke across the face of the forest fae at the mention of an orchard and their very own riverfruit slush stand. He would make an excellent orchard-keeper and Phia sounded equally confident in her ability to run a business. “How fun! It would be a fam-” Cyrus stopped. A family business. A near slip. Lying was so much harder than he expected it to be. “A fantastic idea.” He corrected. He wouldn’t mind living here, tucked away from dark elves, the little family he had left kept safe, just tending to an orchard and serving refreshing treats to villagers. He too found himself lost in a daydream broken only by Phia’s next suggestion and her hand smacking against the table.
“Yes, Dante and Darius must be hungry too. We could bring the feast to them!” He suggested, matching Phia’s enthusiasm. “You said this village is wary of outsiders, yet Darius and Dante are not wolves and they seem very welcomed here.” He attempted to tuck a riverfruit into a pocket far too small as spoke. Eventually he decided it was best to eat the rest of the fruit as he continued to talk. “How have they managed to gain such trust? I believe Menzai and I have started off on the wrong foot and I would like to not make that a pattern here.”
Time: Night Location: Edge of Lover’s Lake-Roman Ceremony Interactions: Ari@Tpartywithzombi
Ari’s question caught him off guard, would he be free?. Too many answers flooded his mind, an overwhelming barrage of thoughts that needed time to sift through. So Callum shrugged, “Maybe, won’t know until I try I guess.” But even that answer was heavy with doubt. Thinking about it filled him with unease and he was thankful Ari kept talking, now about her mother forbidding her from seeing him.
“I am very unpopular with parents.” Cal admitted with pride in that statement. He took the bottle from Ari as she asked him to hold it and his eyes lingered on its contents as she walked away. Roman and Mina sang a lovely song, their voices stretched upwards, lifted others upwards, as they sang. He looked toward them, watched the ending of a joyous dance, and felt the comfort in their song even as it faded for a new song to begin.
The rhythm slowed, a somber song rose, and Roman spoke of reflection and remembrance. Cal had no ancestors he wished to remember, none he knew who deserved to be honored.
“You and I are the culmination of all our ancestors’ hopes and dreams. What they worked lived and died for.”
Callum shut his eyes and wished for the antithesis; to be the culmination of his ancestor's worst fears, the thing that would undo all they worked, lived, and died for. He wished to be like fire, destruction in its purest form save for Claedo himself.
Callum watched the fire, transfixed as flowing warm colors took on shapes only he could see. For a brief and beautiful moment, he saw a twisted face within the flames, it’s smug expression slowly transformed to one of agony, flickers of yellow evoking a crown. He didn’t want to blink, knowing that when he did, it would be gone.
And gone it was, the fire still danced and flickered, shapes and imagery as easily picked out as a child watching the clouds. But to see Edin’s face burning, that was gone. Only the hope that it was a sign of things to come, remained.
What about you, will you be free? Cal relented to the bottle he held, a long gulp as if it were only water. Did he even want freedom when shackles brought comfort like a weighted blanket and a cage was just a safe place to hide?
Was that all he wanted; things to hold him back, something to blame his failures on, excuses for why everything he did resulted in nothing.
Dread bubbled up from the foul pit in his core, leaking out of him. Deep frightened breaths, but without an audible sound. He didn’t realize he was crying. Cal only stared into the fire, unaware of time or his surroundings, unaware of anything but the thoughts in his head.
Until the jarring sound of Ana shouting startled him enough to make him wonder if jumping out of his skin was possible. He looked around for his sister but saw Ari returning instead. From beneath her hooded cloak waves of ginger hair escaped, framing her face in familiar warm hues.
Time: Evening Location: Masquerade Ball: Damien Estate Interactions: Charlotte @Princess, Fritz @JJ Doe, Mr.V : Slipper Appreciator @samreaper, Cassius @PapaOso Daily Misfortune: An annoyingly high-pitched voice and random fits of laughter. Predictable Costume: Leo the Lion
“The same hallowed sanctuary that was recently infiltrated and ransacked by riff-raff? I can only assume security is not a high priority for your father.” Leo snapped at Cassius. The bastard’s sarcastic tone was entirely inappropriate for the severity of the situation, it only added to a festering annoyance with the conduct of the Damien family.
Then there was Fritz, not only smiling like a dolt at Cassius’s interruption but exchanging pleasantries with the bastard while a treasured family heirloom was either missing or in the, likely filthy, hands of a thief. There was no time for nonsense here, when did he last see it - in his pocket - was that not obvious! “Gold, with Varian Pines and a stag adorning its case. A sidewinder, well kept and unscratched. It was last in this pocket,” Leo placed his right hand over his left pocket, as his left hand gestured to a button on his vest, “Chain now, gone as well.’
At least Charlotte understood the gravity of the situation. And why was Cassius leering at her? Had Calbert Damien stooped to using his bastard to harass Charlotte in his stead? And oh what the lessers wouldn’t do to claw their way up.
“Personal? Ill-will?” Leo repeated the claim with evident shock. “I am well liked and would not associate with thieves.” Leo replied genuinely, but it was an unfortunate stroke of luck that following those words he erupted into another giggle fit. The timing could not have been worse, it was ridiculously unhinged, and his sides stung. The lion's mane shook but the mask, thankfully, hid how well his face now matched his vest. Leo cleared his throat and ignored the strange interruption he had caused.
“Security is far too lax, they have allowed the unsavory sort in.” The only person he could think of, with any ill will, was Count Damien himself. An enemy of Charlotte’s was his as well, but the Count certainly did not go around pilfering pockets, he was far more nefarious than that.
What mattered more here, that Cassius left this interaction knowing full well that he held contempt for the Damien family, or that his watch was found and the thief dealt with? The answer was blatantly obvious for Leo.
“Apologies, Cassius, the watch belongs to my father, his before his, for many years, irreplaceable.” He paused, thankful that the mask hid the annoyed look in his eyes before adding, “An excellent showing at the archery contest the other day, by the way.” A small compliment, only marginally better than forcing out an apology to a bastard. The lion mask dipped slightly, a respectful nod, but not a bow.
“I have observed several people seemly searching for missing items as well. Might be wise to not allow anyone to leave until my wat- all missing items, are returned and accounted for and the thief apprehended. I’m sure your family would prefer this not to become an embarrassing scandal if handled poorly. Somewhere here is a scourge in need of a few years in a dungeon.” He suggested and hoped the dungeons of Soren lived up to their terrible reputation.
Leo’s head swiveled to search the crowd for flashes of orange. At least it was an easy color to spot. “I believe we saw Shehzadi Nahir with a woman in orange. One of you should speak with her.” He suggested to Charlotte. Not even for his most valued treasure would he risk a laughter fit directly into the face of royalty.
Time: Evening Location: Gaurav Village Interactions: Phia@princess Equipment: A pack with some supplies, seeds (in his pockets), a small knife, a mask that hangs from his belt, a weapon with a shifting charm that is either a sickle or a glaive, and a shield/drum with an unbreakable charm.
For a moment the possibility dangled in front of him; Viola, Phia, and he all returning to the same frozen dessert stand they’d frequented as children. New memories built in nostalgic places. Except that stand had been burnt to the ground and it’s owner taken away in chains. Such destruction had befallen every know member of Millinia’s Militia, not just his eldest brother Florian. As that possibility burned away, he thought of all the reasons why he could never go home again and how it would never be his home the way it once was.
Then all anger and hatred that he tried to rid himself of sprouted forth, it grew beneath a glow of a white hot rage. Sprouting first in the gut as that twisted feeling grew and constriced around his heart, slowly stealing the light from his spirit. A wave of nausea at having let it take root so easily cut it back down. A stump that festered but never died away. This was not the place for it, this was a family table.
He then noticed the squished piece of fruit he’d grasped too tightly in that moment. He smeared it’s remnants across a piece of bread as if he meant to do such a thing all along.
“The place I went to, it is gone now, but they sell Riverfruit Shushs just about anywhere you can find Riverfruits, and the world has many rivers. We could travel someplace to find one.” Cyrus paused, he pulled a small knife from his pocket and used it to carefully carve a piece of Riverfruit away until he found a seed. He placed the seed on the table between him and Phia and smiled.
“Or, we can find a nice river nearby, grow a Riverfruit Tree, and then I can teach you how to make Riverfruit Slushs. You could have them anytime you’d like, even enough to share with the whole village here.” He offered. This was the better option; any major city or port would hold the dangers of dark elf presence, the potential to be recognized, and it was better that officially, Cypress Millinia stayed dead and Cyrus remained unnoted and unimportant.
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