The Land of Fraet (A medieval fantasy RP)

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"Celoa..look. The couple approaching the dance floor."
Taking another bite of the snacks before him, Celoa glanced at the couple heading to the dance floor. They were not very tactical, drawing every eye to them as they approached. "They could use some tact i think. Although, if the objective is to draw attention, then well done."
"you should mingle more often."

He chose to ignore that statement. His eyes instead glance up to the balconies where he noticed flurries of movement and the slight, but distinctive clanging of metal armor. Very hard to hear with the chatting and the music playing. Were they setting guards on the balconies?
He smirked. "Seems the leaders might be showing themselves soon. Especially if that is guards getting ready up there. Armored Bowmen most likely. Best be ready in case things go south."

He grabbed another snack from the tray.
 
Achera found his answer intriguing, she always loved the woods and wilds it always felt so free there. "Dont let him fool you, he may act innocent and skittish but I can sense strength and viciousness in him" Achera tried not to show any sign of being talked to by Fiara in here head. But she said mentally "Maybe but I sense loneliness and gentleness in him as well, dont be such a worry wort Fiara".

Achera smiles at Luran "The woods huh? Ive always enjoyed being out in them, they're very....Comforting I guess to me. Yes thats right" Shes silent a moment pondering his question. "No I am from Lothelian originally but sense I was little ive moved from place to place. Havent really settled in one area too long sense. Theres not really a place I call home right now". Her voice starts normal but gets a hint of sadness at the end looking away from Luran.
 
Eric was just about to lower his hand, sensing hesitation from his the woman, when her delicate hand rested in his.the touch was light and somewhat colder than was expected, but he clasped her hand nonetheless an stood.

"I suppose I could grace you with my presence on the dance floor this one time. However don't get used to it," her eyes had a glint in them. He couldn't help but wonder if she was a Lady or Princess of some sort, though she hadn't introduced herself with a title. Then again she was hiding behind a mask, so letting an honorary title be omitted was part of the charade. He gave her hand a light pull, helping her up the way he remembered his father did with his mother on special occasions, and led her to the floor.

For a second time Eric wondered if the woman wasn't some noble, a Baroness perhaps, for the room had went quieter, even the musicians pausing their performance. Perhaps they had even figured out that he was an uninvited guest and a sneak thief, Amaerilda had. He swallowed and stood facing the female, gripping her right hand perhaps more tightly than needed and reached around to place his own right on her back, just below the shoulder blade. He stood, heart racing, awaiting the music.
 
"Lothelian..." He wasn't sure what a lothelian was but it didn't sound terrible. He noticed that the kind and gentle tone had changed into something slightly different, something sadder. He wasn't sure if it had been something he'd said or done and for a moment the conversation drifted off into silence.

"Hmm?" noticing behind her for the first time he saw people swirling around on the floor in pairs. Confused and slightly interested he gave a slight tug on Achera's clothes "What... what are they doing?"
 
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Dr. Percival sat at a dimly lit desk surrounded by a mountain of books and half crumpled papers when a knock at the door of his study came.

"Troublesome... trouble, toenails, tinder, Taembrasil..." He muttered to himself and he pushed sheets of paper to the floor, digging frantically when he gave a sudden cry, "I've got it!" He reached for his ear and winced. "Ah!"

Dr. Percival leapt from his chair, his right hand balled into a fist around some worn and brownish document. He backflipped toward the door and managed to land fine just once. "Oh dear." He mused just before his foot slipped going into the next flip and sent him flying onto his back by the door. Shaking his head clear, at least as much as his head ever got, he bounced up and opened the door with a manic grin.

"Ah! Good day sir! Did you know that the Frillblinn ancillary bicuspids make them perfectly suited to their niche in Zardian ecology?" The well dressed man stared at him incredulously, pulling a note from his pocket and checking it again. It had a finely detailed likeness of the man before him, albeit somehow failing to capture his... disorderly nature. Beneath the drawing were the words "Yes. That's the man. Don't question it, just give him the invitation." He looked back up just as Dr. Percival reached out and grabbed his arm. "Of course not! How could such a thing even be possible!" More nonsensical rantings. "I'm sorry sir, I'm just here to give you an..."

He was cut off. "Invitation! Yes!" Dr. Percival snatched the envelope from his hand and slammed the door. A muffled "Good day!" came from the other side and then silence. The courier widened his eyes and sighed as he held his head, then turned to walk away.

Dr. Percival started to open the invitation until the words suddenly came rushing to him, a vision of the envelope's content flashed into his mind and he tossed it aside. "Excellent! No time to waste!" He patted down the fur of his vest, felt the ears of his hat, grabbed his sword cane, and rushed out the door and into the street.
 
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The Phainopepla

Gripping her hand, Eric pulled her up, taking her out onto the dance floor. She noticed the lull in the music as everyone looked at them. She ignored it though as he gripped her hand, placing his right hand on her back. They waited for the music to start up again. After a short lull the musicians remembered their place, starting up with a waltz. She raised an eyebrow at him slightly. After all, it was the man who was supposed to lead, as custom dictates. She was never really one for customs and what someone must and must not do. Yet this time she decided she'd be prudent and wait for him to do the leading. She noticed they were quite near to the princess and her small posse now. Looking back to her partner she gave him a small smile, still a bit cynical in nature but she couldn't quite help that now could she?
 
Pulled away from her thoughts by Luran, Achera looks to where he was and she smiles softly. "Dancing, couples or friends do it for fun or to be romantic. Its quite fun but takes practice to learn the moves and steps". Looking back at Luran she found his interest cute, he was so different from the usual men...She liked it.
 
Anyone within earshot of the castle gates could hear a ruckus as a most peculiarly dressed man was dragged inside by a pair of guards. He pushed himself up and kicked his legs wildly, struggling against the grip of the two strong men.

"I have been invited, you buffoons! Unhand me at once! I spoke only in jest! It was in jest!"

Another uniformed brute approached him and patted him down thoroughly, pulling out a beaten up but still legible invitation. A voice whispered in his head. "Could you live if I didn't watch over you every second of the day?" He frowned. "Poppycock!"

The guards eyed each other suspiciously. "What should we do? He's got an invitation." The brute threw up his arms. "If the King wants this nutcase, that's his business." He turned and walked back to his post, waving an arm dismissively. "Let 'im go."

Dr. Percival wrenched his arms from the grip of the two men flanking him and straightened his vest and shirt. "Well then, if our business is concluded..." He took his sword cane from the guard and made his way to the ballroom.
 
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Eric could hear the music starting again. It sounded faint above the rush in his ears. He couldn't shake the feeling of people staring at them and being a thief of sorts made it even worse to be the center of attention. He stood listening to the music a moment, until seeing a smile from his dance partner and realizing he should probably start dancing.

So with a bit of a clumsy movement, he stepped forward with his left foot and sidestepped with his right. Soon the lead from his legs had disappeared and the dance became fluid. Rustiness from the years of not dancing disappeared and muscle memory returned. They moved along the room, passed the group the princess was in and joined the nobles and other invitees that have started to dance once more.

"Thought they'd never stop staring," he voiced under his breath to Amaerilda, looking over her shoulder as faces passed by.
 
Celoa kept his eyes on the crowd, specifically focusing on the mysterious couple that danced around the room and the group that was with the princess. Every now and then, his gaze would drift to the balcony where he was sure the royal guard had set up.

Suddenly, a loud voice cut through the crowd, demanding the attention of all who heard it. "Attention please. Please welcome to the court the leaders of the four regions. The king of Facilya, the shaman of Alaurwen, the governor of Lothelian and our own king of Linlake!"
The four leaders entered, each standing proudly next to the other. Their eyes glancing around the room at the people as they began to talk amongst themselves quietly.

"The ones we summoned should be somewhere in the crowd." "Indeed. We must find them without singling them out too much."
 
The Phainopepla

Amaerilda noticed that as they started to dance, the moves of her partner were a bit clumsy. As time went on though their movements became synchronized and fluid. They entered the ranks of dancing couples, swirling about the room. It felt almost..... blissful. She frowned at herself. This was not how she normally acted at all, but she cared not. Her hand brushed her partner's shoulder lightly as she could feel the warmth of his hand on the exposed part of her back. "Thought they'd never stop staring," His voice in her ear startled her from her musings and she couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "You get used to the staring eventually. Eventually you learn to ignore it all together." Her eyes watched every happening from beneath her mask. She noticed the entrance of the four leaders, watching as they separated and went to their respective "spots". Yes, they may have held this ball together but it was quite obvious that the 4 of them were still on slightly tense terms. "So tell me, have you ever been to one of these types of events before?" She pulled back just enough so that she could look up into his eyes, that perpetual hint of mischief ever present behind her mask.
 
The doors of the ballroom flew open with a cacophonous bang and a garishly outfitted man strutted in loudly exclaiming, "Verily! I have arrived." He spun over to the nearest group, pausing to regain his balance while trying to make it look like a courteous bow. "I sincerely hope you have not suffered without my company for long." Before they could give any reply aside from stunned faces and a few blinks, he turned again and threw his arms out wide. "Aha! An excellent night for Vasilyev's 8th in G minor!"

Dr. Percival strode confidently over to the table of food and drink, eyes gradually turning from him and back to whatever had occupied them earlier. He began picking up various food items and stuffing them into his mouth, shaking the head of his cane at a nearby partygoer as he spoke. "Na uf ya liffn fu da suttu nuunss, ya cu hear da true genuf u da peef." He swallowed. "I say. These hors d'oeuvres are exquisite! I simply must have some for my own culinary studies." Reaching into his vest, he pulled out a waterskin and proceeded to force a reluctant piece of boneless meat through its nozzle.
 
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In her flurry to find the princess and get her hands on some dinner, Annina lost hold of her escort amongst the countless dancing pairs in the ballroom. "Oh, dear," she had realized this too late but the grumble of her tummy could be ignored no longer. Impatience and annoyance was starting to show on her usual cheery face.

"No coats person for my coat," she grumbled. "The hosts are nowhere to be found. I've lost my escort. And dinner has yet to be announced! It's probably midnight already!" Annina raised her frustrations at the roof. The few couples who danced nearby cautiously backed away from the young noblewoman. Annina, however, couldn't care less at the moment.

Pravda, neutral amidst her mistress' temper, mumbled from her amulet, "You don't know it's midnight for sure."

"Aagh!" Annina was ready to chew on her sleeves when she caught the eyes of the very person she wanted to find. Yes! "Princess!" she waved, trampling a few feet on her way towards Princess Arabella. "Oh, Princess!" She stopped to marvel at the royalty's dress before she came any closer. "My sister would have loved your ensemble. She loves dresses worn by important people."

An exasperated sigh from Annina's amulet reminded her that she was being rude again. Hurriedly, she curtsied at the princess, "You may not remember me. I am Annina, youngest daughter of Facilyan General Gusav. So... by any chance, do you know when dinner will arrive?" As if on cue, her stomach rumbled behind her dark corset. With an embarassed laugh, she explained, "I've just arrived in Linlake and I haven't had anything to eat for hours."​
 
Celoa watched the leaders retreat to their separate balconies. Why are they at the same place if they're going to sit so far apart from each other? It made no sense. That was the behavior of one who did not trust those close to him.

The tray he had swiped was now empty and he was still hungry. He flagged down another servant and asked to be brought another small tray of light snackable dishes. The servant nodded and headed to the kitchen.
" you know they're probably going to serve food shortly don't you?"
He nodded to himself.

" I'll eat there too. c'mon, you know how my appetite is." Besides, his main focus was on the 4 leaders and their actions. He still kept tabs on the people he thought important, including the apparent raving lunatic that had entered only recently.
He seemed eccentric, but he knew genius when he saw it.
That man was very intelligent, even if he was socially awkward.

A cry of "Princess!" pulled his attention as he watched a woman almost trample people as she headed towards the princess. Another eccentric person. Most of us don't belong in a setting like this. Why were we invited here anyway?
His mind continued to ponder this even after the servant returned to his table with another tray of sweets and snacks
 
Marciello couldn't help but giggle as he stood there in the crowd of dancers, it seems as if he had lost the woman he was supposed to escort. "Oh well" he chuckled to himself when he realized that he had lost his new friend in the crowd. He couldn't help but wander over to the man who had exploded into the room, the way he acted at the event was intriguing to say the least. "Hello good sir, my name is Marciello what is yours" he said to the newcomer.
 
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"Doubt I'd ever get use to being under a magnifying glass," Eric shrugged slightly and met her eyes for an instant as she looked at him, ears warm once more as he averted his eyes. He had to think a moment before answering her. He had been at dances long ago. More than three years to be exact. When his father had still been alive and they were considered nobles. He looked up bitterly at where the each ruler sat, eyes lingering on only one.

"None as grand as this," he said finally. "Especially not one with this variety of people, or with all four Leaders." He steered them away from the loud new comer that was wolfing down food and a moment later past the Princess's own growing group. "You seem like you attend often though," He said instead of asking. The song was coming to a close and before he could think better of it, he bent over, dipping Amaerilda as the final chord was played.
 
The Phainopepla

"Doubt I'd ever get use to being under a magnifying glass," She couldn't help but grin slightly as his eyes flicked up to meet hers and then quickly looked away. "None as grand as this, Especially not one with this variety of people, or with all four Leaders." He expertly maneuvered them around the room "You seem like you attend often though," There was the sound of the song coming to a close and then suddenly the floor rushed closer to her head as he dipped her low. Her eyes went wide for a second before she resumed her ever permanent smile. "Actually this is the first ball I've ever been to." She chewed her bottom lip. "Seems like people always have tabs on where I'm at, so I don't go very many places.


Arabella

Arabella watched as a young lady practically exploded toward her through the crowd "Princess! Oh, Princess!" The girl stopped short of her. "My sister would have loved your ensemble. She loves dresses worn by important people." The young noblewoman curtsied with a smile "You may not remember me. I am Annina, youngest daughter of Facilyan General Gusav. So... by any chance, do you know when dinner will arrive? I've just arrived in Linlake and I haven't had anything to eat for hours." "Ah yes. I do vaguely remember you Annina. Before my brother died we used to see you around the castle every now and again," She laughed lightly. "As for dinner.... It should be arriving right about now." As if on cue a servant stepped onto the middle of the dance floor and made an announcement: "Dinner is served."
 
Dr. Percival looked over at Marciello and nodded with a smile, wagging his cane at the man as he spoke. "Good day to you sir! Indubitably. Good day." He thumped the end of his cane on the floor several times. "This. Is. For. Emphasis." Putting a hand into his vest, he pulled out his waterskin and took a sip before spewing it out. "This water tastes like meat! How do you do?"
 
Annina clapped her hands in glee. "Splendid!" A line of uniformed servants perfectly weaved their way around the ballroom to deliver the trays of food, and fine dining utensils on the various empty tables arranged at the edges of dance floor. "Your timing, Princess, is unmarred."

Now that spiced mashed potatoes and juicy meat was near her reach, her temper gradually cooled down. Her face, however, remained anxious. She had preferred the Princess to not remember her. After all, in those times she was in the castle, she did her best to steer clear of the unfavored child of the Facilyan King. "I am honored that you remember me, Princess Arabella," she blushed, for once, unsure how to act around someone. "May I ask why we've all gathered here?" Rather than acknowledging her discomfort with the Princess, she stubbornly blamed her unusual tiny voice at the sweet scent of lemon and chicken which made her mouth water.​
 
"The first?" Eric asked, surprised. He had to admit he was slightly regretting ending the dance in the manner he did. The moment of surprise in her eyes had been delightful, but now as he looked down at her he didn't know what to do. There was a moment of silence and then suddenly, off to his right a man, dressed in ridiculously puffy, blue attire, announced that dinner would be commencing, before disappearing into the crowd.

Eric pulled Amaerilda up awkwardly as waiters lined into the room, carrying silver with food that most could never dream of affording. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth as he watched some food be set down in front of two nobles who definitely didn't need more fattening. It had only been three years since he'd been tossed onto the streets, but in that time he had seen more than one orphaned child or hungry beggar. To be honest he'd been those some nights.

He quickly plastered on a smile and turned. "You must be hungry," he said and led the woman, by the arm, back to the tables.
 
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