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- Multiple posts per day
- Online Availability
- 8:00 AM - 4:00 PM
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- Prestige
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- Male
- Primarily Prefer Female
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- Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
no-lightbox
The room suddenly felt more crowded once again. Another dance commenced, this time with a Dradmidian tune. Prince Jerian came back into view as he walked across the room, guards at his sides, to greet the Krei nobleman Cordelia had danced with earlier. They exchanged pleasantries for a time that looked to be formal and polite, their expressions and demeanor never wavering from a reserved air. Sothal's brother seemed charismatic and far more sociable, and people seemed to be drawn more towards his personality due to how easy he made conversation. They parted ways formally, and the prince disappeared into the crowd once again.
"Excuse me," Lord Altrey said as he approached Cordelia. He inclined his head respectfully and held out his arm for her to receive. "The Demonstration is set to begin shortly. I've been asked to escort you to your observation station."
A brow quirked as Cordelia looked to the man. There was an ill feeling in her gut, a subconscious urgency to flee, but she had meant what she'd told Sothal. They needed answers, and if no one else could get into the demonstration…
"Sure you haven't changed your mind about that dance?" She asked, with a smirk that masked her unease, as she took his arm, "Might be our last chance."
"I'm afraid I was born with two left feet," he said simply to decline her offer. "Are you disinterested in our work?"
"Not at all…" With a shrug, she turned her eyes forward, "Just seems a shame to end the party, is all. It's been… intriguing. Though I suppose the same will be said for the demonstration."
"The party, from what I understand, will continue on," he assured as he led her through the large estate. "This should only take at most an hour. Would you care for any refreshments before we descend?"
"Ah, good. Perhaps I'll have time after, then, for one more dance." Her eyes flickered to the floor in pretense of watching, but her hope was to catch sight of one of the other members. With little luck in the sea of masks, she returned her gaze to Altrey, "I wouldn't say no to glass of wine…"
The Cult of Thieves was hard at work, each member garnering their own methods of information gathering. The newest member, Mies, spoke with the nobility just within the ballroom that looked to be a chatter of gossip as their eyes wandered about in their quiet conversation. Milly down the hall spoke with Lady North before she had been whisked away by Prince Jerian. And Quinn was being guided through the crowd by Lady Adele Liathe's hand to converge on Lady North.
Lord Altrey pursed his lips as he quietly held disdain towards the polite formalities he forced himself to practice. Cordelia had desired a glass of wine, to which diverted their path to the refreshments. He plucked a glass for her, handing it to her with a slight inclination of his head. Having a crowd and covered skin gave him a bit more apathy towards the assumed member of the Cabal, and so he did not carry the same nervous air as he had the other day.
"We'll carry on, then," he said. "Best not to delay. The Cabal, I'm sure, would want to be given a report as soon as possible. And our ravens are available to you even after hours. We are very eager to have our progress known."
"Eager, indeed." Taking the glass and pulling a sip from it, careful not to drink too much and appear as anxious as she felt, she forced a smile and nodded, gesturing ahead of them, "Lead the way, then."
They headed towards the northwestern side of the estate before descending a set of stairs underneath the spiral staircase. It led down into another section of the basement with narrower halls and stonework in arches. Lord Altrey didn't speak much along the way. Though this was not his house, he moved about it with familiarity as they passed through corridors and open spaces. It was a strange level of the house that carried a completely different atmosphere for it carried few windows to bring in natural light.
"Out of curiosity," he finally said, "why did they only send you?"
"It hardly takes an army to receive an update on progress…" The further they descended, the harder it was for her to keep up appearances. There were far too many variables, to many possible things to go wrong… Pushing up her mask, the fingers of her free hand curled tighter around the ball of her glass, to keep them steady, but little could be done about her pounding heart.
"Afford me some transparency, Lord Altrey. You don't care for it, do you? All this ceremony… The festivities?"
"Not really," he admitted. "The women gossip and the men are the least genuine in such a setting. I would find it a waste of time were it not an outlet for networking, to which the foreign guests provide avenues otherwise difficult to procure."
"Yes, I thought as much. You don't strike me as the sort to dally in frivolous affairs." Looking over at him, she studied him for a moment, "...When I came to your home, I got the distinct impression you were afraid. Yet you seem even less the sort to scare easily. Why does the Cabal frighten you, then, Lord Altrey?"
"I believe the power your people hold warrants fear," he answered simply. "Not just in magic, but in political sway. How much of Edros do you now govern in secret? We've heard of your most recent success in Dradmida. Quite impressive considering their forces."
"You don't like them, do you. The Cabal." Her smile was faint, almost coy. If he knew… If she thought it might help, she might even have told him then and there. Told him that she wasn't Cabal… that they were working to stop what was happening. The trouble was, he was a part of it, whether he liked them or not… He was a part of the puzzle, and he was dangerous.
"...I'm not personally involved in what's happening in Edros, but I imagine like what's occurring here, there's a purpose for it. But I do find myself curious, what your motives are, Lord Altrey."
"I don't have to like you, and you don't have to like me," he said flatly. "But our motives are similar, if not the same."
They rounded a corner and followed the hall another few feet before stopping at a door. Lord Asterly plucked a key from his pocket to unlock the door as he continued. "What are we all fighting for anyway?" he asked rhetorically. "It was the Cabal's mission that enamoured us from the start. We do hope you all still carry that mission unwaveringly."
The door opened up to a wide, ovoid room with a mosaic floor in small tiles. There was a chair set up at the center, and a chandelier overhead that dimly lit the space enough to denote the room was at least two stories high with coffered ceilings. He ushered Cordelia into the room with a motion of his hand.
"One chair…" Cordelia noted, as she paused in the space of the doorframe, taking in the rest of the room with curious eyes, "...Surely I'm not watching this alone?"
"I assure you, you will not," he stated. "The others are being gathered as we speak. Lady North needed to practically be peeled away from the party. If you would, please, have a seat as I go to check on the others. It shouldn't be long."
Fighting a grimace at the notion of entering, Cordelia nevertheless stepped through the doors and over to the chair. She was a lot of things, but one of them was not stupid… It wasn't a room built for observation. It was a room to be observed.
Shutting her eyes, she took a steadying breath and slowly, she sank into the seat.
"I hope you don't take this personal," a voice echoed from above. The door shut behind her with a noticeable click of the lock leaving Cordelia on her own. The lamplight from the chandelier was given more life so as to better illuminate the large space, the light slowly revealing scared looking, haggard people within cages evenly spaced along the curved wall. Above on the second level was a balcony overlooking the room that spanned half the circumference. There were a handful of nobles gathered upstairs as they looked down at Cordelia, Baron Liathe at the center of the group. He was the source of the voice.
"Before the demonstration commences," Baron Liathe continued, "I would like to give you the opportunity to explain the Cabal's motives for overtaking Dradmida. As I understand it you were in an agreement with them, much like ours."
Looking up, her fingers gripping the arms of the chair, the only sense at all of her anxiety over the predicament, Cordelia scanned those in the cages first, before her gaze moved to the Baron, the corner of her lip twitching upwards into a small smirk, "...Ah. That's his game, then? Where is he? Prince Jerian? Doesn't he have the courage to ask his own questions?"
The Baron looked to his cohorts and lowly muttered to each other in amusement that ended in laughter. He placed his hands upon the balcony and leaned a bit before responding. "Very well," he said. "No further questions. I myself enjoy getting straight to the good part, too."
He turned back to the others as they discussed amongst themselves in a soft chatter, their eyes looking from Cordelia to the doors behind them as more nobles trickled in for the closed event.
"Excuse me," Lord Altrey said as he approached Cordelia. He inclined his head respectfully and held out his arm for her to receive. "The Demonstration is set to begin shortly. I've been asked to escort you to your observation station."
A brow quirked as Cordelia looked to the man. There was an ill feeling in her gut, a subconscious urgency to flee, but she had meant what she'd told Sothal. They needed answers, and if no one else could get into the demonstration…
"Sure you haven't changed your mind about that dance?" She asked, with a smirk that masked her unease, as she took his arm, "Might be our last chance."
"I'm afraid I was born with two left feet," he said simply to decline her offer. "Are you disinterested in our work?"
"Not at all…" With a shrug, she turned her eyes forward, "Just seems a shame to end the party, is all. It's been… intriguing. Though I suppose the same will be said for the demonstration."
"The party, from what I understand, will continue on," he assured as he led her through the large estate. "This should only take at most an hour. Would you care for any refreshments before we descend?"
"Ah, good. Perhaps I'll have time after, then, for one more dance." Her eyes flickered to the floor in pretense of watching, but her hope was to catch sight of one of the other members. With little luck in the sea of masks, she returned her gaze to Altrey, "I wouldn't say no to glass of wine…"
The Cult of Thieves was hard at work, each member garnering their own methods of information gathering. The newest member, Mies, spoke with the nobility just within the ballroom that looked to be a chatter of gossip as their eyes wandered about in their quiet conversation. Milly down the hall spoke with Lady North before she had been whisked away by Prince Jerian. And Quinn was being guided through the crowd by Lady Adele Liathe's hand to converge on Lady North.
Lord Altrey pursed his lips as he quietly held disdain towards the polite formalities he forced himself to practice. Cordelia had desired a glass of wine, to which diverted their path to the refreshments. He plucked a glass for her, handing it to her with a slight inclination of his head. Having a crowd and covered skin gave him a bit more apathy towards the assumed member of the Cabal, and so he did not carry the same nervous air as he had the other day.
"We'll carry on, then," he said. "Best not to delay. The Cabal, I'm sure, would want to be given a report as soon as possible. And our ravens are available to you even after hours. We are very eager to have our progress known."
"Eager, indeed." Taking the glass and pulling a sip from it, careful not to drink too much and appear as anxious as she felt, she forced a smile and nodded, gesturing ahead of them, "Lead the way, then."
They headed towards the northwestern side of the estate before descending a set of stairs underneath the spiral staircase. It led down into another section of the basement with narrower halls and stonework in arches. Lord Altrey didn't speak much along the way. Though this was not his house, he moved about it with familiarity as they passed through corridors and open spaces. It was a strange level of the house that carried a completely different atmosphere for it carried few windows to bring in natural light.
"Out of curiosity," he finally said, "why did they only send you?"
"It hardly takes an army to receive an update on progress…" The further they descended, the harder it was for her to keep up appearances. There were far too many variables, to many possible things to go wrong… Pushing up her mask, the fingers of her free hand curled tighter around the ball of her glass, to keep them steady, but little could be done about her pounding heart.
"Afford me some transparency, Lord Altrey. You don't care for it, do you? All this ceremony… The festivities?"
"Not really," he admitted. "The women gossip and the men are the least genuine in such a setting. I would find it a waste of time were it not an outlet for networking, to which the foreign guests provide avenues otherwise difficult to procure."
"Yes, I thought as much. You don't strike me as the sort to dally in frivolous affairs." Looking over at him, she studied him for a moment, "...When I came to your home, I got the distinct impression you were afraid. Yet you seem even less the sort to scare easily. Why does the Cabal frighten you, then, Lord Altrey?"
"I believe the power your people hold warrants fear," he answered simply. "Not just in magic, but in political sway. How much of Edros do you now govern in secret? We've heard of your most recent success in Dradmida. Quite impressive considering their forces."
"You don't like them, do you. The Cabal." Her smile was faint, almost coy. If he knew… If she thought it might help, she might even have told him then and there. Told him that she wasn't Cabal… that they were working to stop what was happening. The trouble was, he was a part of it, whether he liked them or not… He was a part of the puzzle, and he was dangerous.
"...I'm not personally involved in what's happening in Edros, but I imagine like what's occurring here, there's a purpose for it. But I do find myself curious, what your motives are, Lord Altrey."
"I don't have to like you, and you don't have to like me," he said flatly. "But our motives are similar, if not the same."
They rounded a corner and followed the hall another few feet before stopping at a door. Lord Asterly plucked a key from his pocket to unlock the door as he continued. "What are we all fighting for anyway?" he asked rhetorically. "It was the Cabal's mission that enamoured us from the start. We do hope you all still carry that mission unwaveringly."
The door opened up to a wide, ovoid room with a mosaic floor in small tiles. There was a chair set up at the center, and a chandelier overhead that dimly lit the space enough to denote the room was at least two stories high with coffered ceilings. He ushered Cordelia into the room with a motion of his hand.
"One chair…" Cordelia noted, as she paused in the space of the doorframe, taking in the rest of the room with curious eyes, "...Surely I'm not watching this alone?"
"I assure you, you will not," he stated. "The others are being gathered as we speak. Lady North needed to practically be peeled away from the party. If you would, please, have a seat as I go to check on the others. It shouldn't be long."
Fighting a grimace at the notion of entering, Cordelia nevertheless stepped through the doors and over to the chair. She was a lot of things, but one of them was not stupid… It wasn't a room built for observation. It was a room to be observed.
Shutting her eyes, she took a steadying breath and slowly, she sank into the seat.
"I hope you don't take this personal," a voice echoed from above. The door shut behind her with a noticeable click of the lock leaving Cordelia on her own. The lamplight from the chandelier was given more life so as to better illuminate the large space, the light slowly revealing scared looking, haggard people within cages evenly spaced along the curved wall. Above on the second level was a balcony overlooking the room that spanned half the circumference. There were a handful of nobles gathered upstairs as they looked down at Cordelia, Baron Liathe at the center of the group. He was the source of the voice.
"Before the demonstration commences," Baron Liathe continued, "I would like to give you the opportunity to explain the Cabal's motives for overtaking Dradmida. As I understand it you were in an agreement with them, much like ours."
Looking up, her fingers gripping the arms of the chair, the only sense at all of her anxiety over the predicament, Cordelia scanned those in the cages first, before her gaze moved to the Baron, the corner of her lip twitching upwards into a small smirk, "...Ah. That's his game, then? Where is he? Prince Jerian? Doesn't he have the courage to ask his own questions?"
The Baron looked to his cohorts and lowly muttered to each other in amusement that ended in laughter. He placed his hands upon the balcony and leaned a bit before responding. "Very well," he said. "No further questions. I myself enjoy getting straight to the good part, too."
He turned back to the others as they discussed amongst themselves in a soft chatter, their eyes looking from Cordelia to the doors behind them as more nobles trickled in for the closed event.