As each member stepped forward, different reactions were heard throughout the massive hall. It was obvious that Klemetti was not in the mood for patience has his shoulders twitch when each person spoke, eager to lash out against them. Jackal on the other hand was the opposite; calm and collected with his eyes wide, taking in everything he heard.
Sten's small speech left a wave of impression throughout the court and even Lysander let out a grunt that probably showed approval. Many of the nobility saw him as the scary sort who could get the job done and there were hushed murmurs of curiosity about him. Some of them even knew who he really was and could not help but think he was a perfect candidate for this sort of job, instead of being wary around his background as a member of the Draco Cauda, they figured that a rogue member of the feared organization would boost their efforts of success.
Immediately afterwards however came the merchant, Triversia Balton, his introduction left a far less impressive introduction. His mention of being from Dunheim as well as being a merchant, created a mood of offense-signalling where the nobles murmured to each other in a contest to see who could be more indignant of the "bum scrap merchant". As he bowed and spoke, a few let out constrained laughter "how cute the peasant is trying to impress us" one person said among the chatter. Elitism and a sense of innate superiority was not limited to just Klemetti.
Thankfully, Erin Fable, manage to somewhat salvage the situation, though none found her intimidating or apt for the job. They at least found the girl to be respectable and even cute. She could hear some of the younger nobles cooing over her. One even whistled before being smacked on the back of the head by his angry wife. The older nobles merely made a cautious nod in reference to the girl. They knew that last name well and even though she didn't look like she had the skillset of her grandfather, the fact that she was his flesh and blood meant that she had some innate talent by default. This was the mindset of many of the Gyrus nobility. If your ancestor had done great things then you were just as great as they were and more importantly, better than the majority of other people. The same smug haughty attitude that had doomed Balton now helped Erin.
Erin, with her senses heightened noticed something off. All the nobles breathed freely and without restraints, even Lysander breathed slow but unrestrained. But there was one person who she sense breathed differently than the others.
It was Jackal. It was hard to describe but his breathing was controlled and disciplined. There was concentration and will-power behind each breath. While the average person greedily sucked air in and clumsily exhaled as its body desperately waiting for its next batch of air. Jackal was different, his breath was even and conservative. It reminded Erin of the more veteran druids who practiced certain breathing techniques during meditation in order to concentrate and understand the environment better. But the difference was they only did that during meditation. It takes time and energy to focus on controlling your breath, but Jackal did it so casually that to Erin, he suddenly stood out like a sore thumb among the rest of the banquet goers.
If Erin helped the group to recover from Balton's poor reception, Jeanna brought them back into good standing. The Gyrus nobility were a simple, romantic lot at times. Anyone who had the biggest weapon and the most confident attitude was surely to win against anyone who stood in their way and Jeanna was the epitome of that philosophy. What they wanted to see more than anything else were warriors who would get the job done via hacking and slashing. It seems after 50 years of rule by Lysander, certain aggressive thoughts had permeated into the upper echelons of Gyrus culture. Their king was strong and slew great enemies so naturally they respected strength more than most things. Like Sten, they loved her demeanor and eagerness to slay their enemies.
Jeanna would note though that as she stared at the king, he stared right back but not with the same kind of intensity. Though he was far from intimidated, he looked at her as though she wasn't worthy of his glare, as if she was a bee sting. Who if stung him now would prove to be more painful than average due to his advanced age but that sting was nothing compared to the massive swords and clubs that had descended upon him in his prime. She was a bug compared to Kaldra, and compared to the combine might of the the Warlords, she didn't even exist.
Selia Mallory's introduction as a blind swordsman once again brought about those romantic notions of fighting some of the nobles held dear. Oh just like that story of the blind elf archer! One would think. Oh like the blind blue Dragon! who slew an army of Demons before dying to his injuries. Some approved of her since in their minds she carried on the fantastical myths of blind warriors of legend. Others however were skeptical because those stories were just that: Fantasies and myths to be told to young children and not taken seriously. Still the way she moved to the front it was clear that she had some form of her sense about, so she wouldn't be worthless in a fight, and if that didn't resolve any reservations they had, they simply had to console themselves with the fact that Benedict picked her for a good reason.
Ironically, despite being blind her "vision" prompted her to see something others could not. Shay's shadowy veil was different from the others who had black flickering shadows as forms, Shay had...something else. A strange gray outline over his shadowy self. Except it wasn't a foggy flicker. To Selia it seemed like something different, something thicker that coated Shay. Almost like a slime. He had his own "aura" in a sense but there was another aura there. Something that she never recognized or saw before.
Nuit's introduction left some pondering, and some laughing. Except like before when it was muffled, it was blatant this time. The nobility rarely left opportunities to ridicule when one was presented to them. Benedict sighed in shame and took a long deep breath. Though he got nervous when he noticed Klemetti wasn't laughing: he was gritting his teeth like a hungry wolf. It was clear he wanted his fill and was filled with rage when he still had to wait when such a perfect meal presented itself almost willingly.
Coby's two words were very much like Erin's in that they found Coby to be cute, though they also interpreted the assassin's lack of speech as proof of Coby's assumed stupidity. But unlike Erin, they also found the figure intimidating and looked at Coby approvingly. What was more interesting was the thoughts of the King. He noticed the mask and it was clear to Coby that he knew the origins of such things the same as Jackal did. He glanced at Benedict with a hint of annoyance in his eyes, which Benedict simply responded with a shrug. Lysander knew the origins of the few Western assassins left who wore the wood masks, he knew it very well and he didn't like that he was now paying one. This was a dangerous game Benedict was playing with the King. It was well within his reasoning to have Coby thrown in a cell and killed right now, though one glance from Jackal was enough proof that Coby's selection was not only the right choice, but a safe choice. Jackal knew things, Even Lysander didn't know how Jackal knew so much. But he was smart enough to have trustful judgement and Lysander appreciated that.
Henry Udolf was the one safe choice Benedict had. No matter what happened with the others, everyone would like Udolf, even Klemetti he figured would find no fault in Udolf's selection. His attire was that of a respected, dignified knight and noble of Gyrus and his words, though not the most original resonated with all the nobility simply because he was one of them. Maybe perhaps seen as a little brother whom they patronized from time to time. But still one of them. Unlike the rest of the rabble.
Keevah's words were simple but in her case, simple was the best she could do. She was professional and spoke of success with confidence that made the nobility nod their heads. It was unfortunate that she wasn't like Udolf or Coby or Jeanna in that she looked intimidating. She was, to them, a simple archer. What was so special about her? Couldn't Benedict have gotten some peasant hunter and done just as well? They could apply the logic of Benedict picking them all for a good reason to Selia, for Selia was unique, she was blind and it made her stand out.
What made Keevah stand out? They were not offended by her presence, but they certainly weren't impressed either.
Benedict was too slow to rush to his group's defense as Klemetti sprung from his chair like a bolt from a ballista and rushed to the group before facing the banquet. His eyes were hungry, he would have his fill of meat.
"I was not aware that we were part of the Western Vulgo! I thought my King ruled the land of mighty Gyrus, the mightiest country on the Continent. Did I wake up and find out that we were really lived in nothing more than a pitiable, disgusting cesspool city in the Western Vulgo".
The nobles made wary murmurs and grunts, Benedict's face turned pale and his body went to stone as he watched this turn into an orchestrated disaster. Lysander leaned back into his throne, getting comfortable. He was here for the spectacle. In his old age he was useless in a great many things, he could no longer fight, or lead men or travel the country-side, or eat huge meals as his sense of appetite had disintegrated into fowl bowel movements. He admitted to himself that having his nobles give in to the quarreling and bickering was pointless and led nowhere. But it was just so much fun to watch. Though he knew Benedict was never going to be Klemetti's opponent. He eyed Jackal, who was as calm and stoic as ever as he watched Klemetti's theatrical performance. With that same hunger and savage intensity in his eyes. Shame he wasn't a warrior, Lysander thought, he would have made a fierce one.
"Because all I see from this rabble" Klemetti continued "Are the very same degenerates, thugs and vagabonds that the Western Vulgo uses to do their dirty work!" He glared down Coby and Nuit in particular. Before spitting on the floor in front of Balton, showing his obvious disgust for the man. He then stole glances from Erin and Selia, his rage and contempt growing.
"And if they aren't disgusting degenerates, they are children and worthless cripples. Barely worth their salt as laborers, let alone fighters and mercenaries."
While obviously not all of the nobility would agree on Klemetti's assessment, they were still captivated by his hostile bravado. That was Klemetti's ultimate weapon, he made such a performance out of beating people down that one couldn't help but sit down and watch the show. Most of all Lysander, who poured a rather tall glass of desert wine and gulped it down greedily. He was king! He had spent a lifetime and sacrificed everything in order to make this Kingdom great and safe. He was entitled to his entertainment, this spectacle. In the midst of this rambling, only Selia and Coby noticed that Jackal was no longer in his chair but had slipped away into the crowd.
"Sir Benedict, I respect you as a man with good and sound taste, but where were your wits when you decided to recruit some Ragabash traitorous whore into our respected company!?" Klemetti said, in reference to Jeanna.
Even though it had been 50 years and citizens of the Ragabash cities were free to travel through Gyrus without harassment, there was still a minority of nobles who fostered sentiment of Ragabash still belonging to Gyrus and it's occupants would forever be traitors until unified under their true king. This was an unpopular opinion but a vocal one among certain groups and more scandalous yet, there were rumors that Lysander himself had bred this dissent and hatred decades ago among this minority for hopes of creating enough popular sentiment to begin another invasion long after he had died. Though the King never publicly made a statement denouncing the region since the war.
Klemetti could feel himself losing the crowd. Jeanna was afterall popular with the nobility. So he quickly moved on.
"Udolf was the only choice you've made so far that was a good one. And even then the best you could do was a knight from a small family. As respected as Sir Udolf and his family name is. The fact that you have ignored other knights with greater family titles is highly questionable. You could have easily searched out Commander Udo for worthy candidates."
"I Did!" Benedict stammered in protest. "I asked the Commander for his opinion on fine knights and Sir Udolf was one of his top choices!"
"Was it his only choice? I'm certain the good Commander gave you more than just one name."
"My entourage needs to have a diverse set of skills. Having a dozen knights come with me wouldn't-
"OH what a great group you've recruited. Peasant merchants, blind girls, a literal child who most likely has no talents, murderers from the Western Vulgo and of course a Xabsigan Zealot!"
"You slanderous charlatan! How dare you question-
The banquet hall erupted in noise as Nobles took sides, turning the party into a screaming match where one group of nobles yelled at each other over the debate while the second group screamed at the first group to stop screaming. Whatever words Klemetti and Benedict yelped at each other, no one could hear them. The group stood among this chaos before Lysander, who did not act besides merely smiling as he poured himself another glass of the sugary wine. It was about to start. The entertainment would be here soon. Those looking at Lysander could see he was smiling, and it was another, hungry savage smile.
