P.M.
[Private to Taisiya Northwood: Ropes were tied to the dock with skill and speed, by the worn hands of sailors. Like the sound of a boulder dropped in water, Taisiya could hear the anchor cast off. She grabbed her modest bag of belongings – called a wool sack by more practical people – and stepped off the ship that had been her home for the past few weeks. She was quite sick of that home. Streets led to the Bazaar from the docks, something she yearned to see. Herrod's Bazaar sold everything imaginable and even things unimaginable until you'd seen them. Recieving the wares of nearly every ship to pass through Isles of Mercia, the marketplace was a picture of the whole world, depicting every culture through their trades. Taisiya spent hours window shopping and frequently reached into her coin pouch only to remember it was empty.

Dusk fell, and she didn't have money for a bed. Returning to the docks, Taisiya sat on the edge of the pier and gazed at the Tigryn Sea. When morning came, the sun would breach that horizon. She figured this was as good a place as any to sleep tonight; tommorow would be for job hunting. Unexpectedly, a voice shouted from behind, "Hey! What are you doing here?" Taisiya leaped onto her feet like a cat caught offguard, "I- I'm sorry, I-" An earring dangled aside his short black hair as he spoke, "You're not supposed to be here. Get ou-..." He fell speechless before the word was finished as Taisiya stepped into the view. Dark eyes studied her with a natural intensity and also a bewilderment that seemed foreign to him. Taisiya spoke hastily, "I'll leave, sorry." "No wait," he said, his voice softened considerably, "Come here." She eyed him warily as she approached, "I think it's best if I just leave." He smiled in awe of her, as though he'd found a long lost treasure, "You don't understand." Slowly and cautiously, he told hold of her hand, as if touching her confirmed she was real. His eyes stared directly into hers, "I know what you are... I am the same."]

Taisiya walked into the ladies' room in a state of awe. She could not believe what she was seeing. Never in her life had she seen a room so regal and divine. She slowly stepped towards the balcony, and stared out the window, seeing a portion of the gardens. "This is..." she paused, at a loss for words. "I've never seen rooms like this in my life." She looked around, genuinely taken in by it all.

After she finally took it all in and regained mental composure, Taisiya tucked a loose, white hair behind her ear and looked at the beds. "What are in these boxes?" She asked, only half rhetorically.

Lady Jacqueline glares between Larlben and Marcus, muttering to herself in a language no one understood. As she followed them down the corridor, she memorizes her mapping of the castle and then is taken aback by the embroidery, design, and poise of the place. She casts Marcus a fleeting glance in curiosity, wondering if he'd lived in this place all his life. He just seemed... different, now that there was a new light on him. She shrugs it off immediately, getting distracted by new scenery-- and she pushes through into her room to take in the surroundings. "Wow..." she finally manages after a few gaping moments.

She turns back to Taisiya with a wide-open smile. "Have you ever seen such a place??!" She takes in the room, the ceiling with paintings, the walls with beautiful trim, and the beds with their gifts on top. "Are these--?" she points to one of the boxes and gets around to taking off her gear and setting it on one of the beds farthest from the door. "If I may be bold... Do we have new attire that we may wear? We are a little.. singed from our last encounter." She sits down on the bed and peers tenderly at the box.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:37, Thu 28 Aug 2014.

Marcus returns to his own room, swiftly changing into a less worn-in outfit. He keeps the sword at his belt, the weight of it a small comfort. With a final once-over to make sure he is prepared to meet guests, he makes his way to the others' quarters, hoping to see to it that they are alright.

Dwalin looks around at all the decoration with a frown on his face. He grunts to himself when he sees and hears the others reactions to the house. He is obviously not impressed by  the place and even appears a bit agitated by it. He enters into his room and begins to remove his armor and replace it with the clothing provided

[Private to GM: It feels good to be in a place so ornate as this... again, yet it brings up painful memories... I almost shed a tear, but push it back quickly. I try to focus on the good memories, the ones that were of a time before calamity, before shame, in the idyllic untouched state of memory they are. 'I need to remain in control. Focus on the mission.' I think to myself.]
     I remember to take a meticulous note of the path we have traveled since we entered the mansion to get to where we are, while I observe the intricate, masterwork surroundings, appreciating the craftsmanship. I focus more on our route though, lest I begin to feel jealous.
     Personally, I am a bit repulsed by our guide's distaste of our appearance and smell. I am inclined to react in such a way as lifting my own nose to him, though I only do mentally and a slight look of disgust finds its way to my face, while he is not looking at me, 'Who is he to think such of us?, ...of me? Has this man worked a single day physically? Slaved in the sun? Suffered to survive? I would think not. Who is he to condemn a man such as myself who he knows nothing about!?' I consider reacting and protesting the control of weapons based on the code of knighthood. I refrain realizing he has little say in the matter. The only one to ask, truely, is Mr. or Mrs. Larlben. I politely nod to Sonfred as he leaves, holding back my feelings, remembering to be courtly as a knight would.
     After he leaves I breath and cool my emotion. 'I suppose I too know little of this butler... but still who is he to condemn?!' I begin to look down at my armour and tunic. The blood, ash, and coal would be nice to clean off. My hair still does seem to smell like ash, fire, and whatever was burning in that inn. 'That could be burnt bodies.' I think to myself. With sudden distaste I quickly block that out of my mind with many other emotions and thoughts.
     "I wonder if we have time to bathe before lunch?" I ask entering our room. I am suddenly taken back for a moment looking into our room, "What a scene?!" [Private to GM: {I may be a prince, but I never took craftsmanship, art, and wealth for granted, especially after living on the road or as a refugee for so long}] I say to myself, staring intently at the mural to see if I recognize it. [Private to GM: {do I recognize it, Ryan? I may have traveled to their when I was a bit younger? I could put that in my back story maybe? :)}]
     I then remember again the opportunity of a bath, 'I can study this more later.' I look about the room for a wardrobe. Noticing the box on a bed, I quickly approach the bed I think most likely to be mine, pick up the box and examine it a moment. I set my quarterstaff and backpack down. "Schauen Sie, Geschenke!" I say quietly, but excitedly, holding up the box toward the other men in the party. I bring it to Lady Jacqueline quickly, considering to myself the risk. I offer it to her. "Can you take a look at this? Do you think it is trapped?" I say quietly to her. {Assuming she says no} I gingerly open the box, after her inspection.
     "Danke!" I say to Lady Jaqueline, as I go back to the wardrobe, to search for a clean tunic. Whether I find one or not, I plan to risk bathing before lunch anyways. So I bathe, with the fine soaps and oils provided. It is so refreshing to feel clean again. I muse to myself while bathing 'Thank God, He saved us like he did in the Inn, He really came through for Lady Jaqueline and myself.' I pray "Thank you Lord most dearly once again for our deliverance from the fire." After batheing I dress in the new tunic provided {or a clean set of travlers clothes from my sack} and begin to go to work cleaning and oiling my armour. I pause a molment before continuing and I put my sword belt back on my hip, I do not plan to let it go beyond my arms reach[Private to GM: , but request that I be allowed to wear it while we dine, on the basis of my code as a knight, at minimum I must keep it as near as possible]...
This message was last edited by the player at 07:42, Sun 31 Aug 2014.

Sonfred replies, "I'll have a bath drawn sir," in his usual pretentious voice and disappears down the hall. "Thank you," calls Herr Johannes after him before closing the door.

Dwalin finishes changing into his new clothes. He puts on the final piece, a black velvet robe, over his new green tunic and trousers, the preferred color and style of dwarven nobility. It's a perfect fit, originally made for dwarven royalty in a foreign land. Dwalin examines himself in the mirror and nods in approval while wondering what kind of fur the robe's collar is made of. Adwonus and Herr Johannes open the armoire and find multiple options for them as well! Herr Johannes lays a few doublets on the bed when he hears a knock on the door. After a moment the door opens and a train of servants walk in carrying hot water. Entering the bathroom, they each pour their water into the tub and line the counters with fine soaps and oils. "If there's anything else you need sirs, please let us know!" says one of the senior maids, a kindly woman in her 50's. They leave the room, and Herr Johannes grows a wide smile.

Taisiya opens a small latched box and pulls out a fascinator made with feathers from a rare tropical bird. She giggles and hands it to Lady Jacqueline, "I think this is for you!" Lady Jacqueline takes it joyfully, almost forgetting to be courteous in her excitement, and trades another box in return. Taisiya opens this one to find a silver necklace with a crescent moon pendant; it looks incredible. Lady Jacqueline sees Taisiya simply staring at it and asks, "What's the matter?" She responds, "I... I've never really had jewelry before." Lady Jacqueline lightly laughs, "Well it looks beautiful; plus, it matches your hair!" They're interrupted by a knock on the door. Lady Jacqueline opens it to see Herr Johannes - who smells much better now - holding his box, "Sorry for interrupting." He smiles, clearing happy about his new cleanliness, "But can you check this for traps?" Lady Jacqueline smirks and examines the box {Search Check - Success}, and hands it back, "It's clean!" "Danke!" he responds before hastening back to Adwonus and Dwalin. [Private to Taisiya Northwood: {You gain item - Silver Moon Necklace} Inside the armoire are numerous dresses; if you wish to change into one, you may design your own!] [Private to Lady Jacqueline Raynelde: {You gain item - Feathered Fascinator} Inside the armoire are numerous dresses; if you wish to change into one, you may design your own!] [Private to Herr Johannes: {You gain item - Lion Brooch} Opening the box, you find brooch in the shape of a lion curled around a pearl in the center, usable for fastening a cloak or cape.] [Private to Adwonus Swillman: You notice something... one of the servants had clothes that didn't quite fit him, and a small but recent cut on his hand. You think you found your agent.]

Adwonus speaks, "I'm going to walk around." Before Herr Johannes can speak another word, Adwonus is gone. Dwalin grunts, not giving much indication about what he thinks of all this. "I see Adwonus is doing his thing again," says Marcus from the door, now dressed in a blue doublet. Herr Johannes and Dwalin look up in modest surprise, not having expected to see him. Marcus smiles and continues, "I suppose you have questions for me!"

[Private to Adwonus Swillman: Adwonus casually walks along the hall until he hears a whistled tune from one of the rooms. He opens the door and steps into a spare chamber where a butler stands, pretending to clean something - except that he isn't a butler. "Nice costume, where'd you get it?" says Adwonus. The blade-agent chuckles, "From someone who won't miss it. Nicked me though," he lifts up his hand revealing a small cut on his knuckles. He continues, "Jeth at your service sir. Pyrra sends her regards. What are your orders?"]

"I beg of you with heart and soul,
Freedom from a heartless end."

[Private to Herr Johannes: Prince Johannes took his seat on a grand wooden chair. Many other chairs filled the side of the hall, but his was closest to the pair of thrones in the center, where sat the king and queen. Princess Wendelin, his younger sister, sat next to him; her blonde hair was newly styled in a complex braid. She touched his shoulder, "I haven't seen this many knights in one place since the Aber Festival!" She seemed excited, moreso at the spectacle of armor and nobility than the proceedings of war. Johannes's brother and second sister climbed into their seats beside Wendelin, their feet dangling some inches from the ground. Johannes was the eldest of the four by far; Wendelin was merely fifteen years of age and the other two even younger. As a result, Johannes often felt compelled to be an example for his siblings, someone they could look up to. He replied to Wendelin, "Indeed it's been some time since the halls were filled! The knights are coming – silence now good sister."

Three knights clad in armor, meticulously polished in preparation for this moment, walked down the aisle toward the King, who sat upon his throne. Johannes's father radiated a regal splendor; a gold crown rested on his blonde hair, and his beard was still thick despite a ting of gray. The three knights stopped before the King and bowed. The middle of the three, General Lasker, spoke with a booming voice, "My King, I have come to declare to you our victory in war against the Styrie, who made wanton aggression against our southern border. The Battle of Habsmoor lasted from dawn til dusk, and our soliders fought with courage only found in Vaterland hearts. Each one who fell did so with dignity and may they never be forgotten. Many great men among us fought fiercely and with undying strength, but none were more fierce than Sir Rysan," the general placed his hand on the knight to his right, "whose heroism made certain our victory. He must've of slain a hundred by his own hand, and without his daring tactics in the midst of battle, many thousands of our men may not have returned this day."

Rysan bowed even lower during the praise, an open display of modesty. He appeared to be a foreigner, for his armor was dark gray, shrouded by a black fur cape – very different from Vaterland knights. Rysan's face was a dark tan, his jaw well-carved; he'd be considered handsome by anyone's account. He spoke with a clear baritone voice, "Great king, I did only my duty. Truly the victory lies with the great people of your kingdom." The king replied, his voice reverbating through the hall, "Sir Rysan, your humility speaks much. You are a foreigner, and yet you came to us in our hour of need and performed a noble service. Vaterland owes you a great debt; as such, it will be repayed! Make a request of me, and I shall grant it." Rysan glanced upward, speaking gracefully, "My king, I've grown fond of the people here and its beautiful country. My only request is that I be granted a modest keep and lands by which I may continue to live here and serve the kingdom." The King smiled, impressed with Rysan's chivalry, "This past week, the Count of Torne has died without an heir, and his property thus gone to the crown. It seems only fitting that I proclaim you the new Count of Torne, along with its deeds and title lands! May you prosper here in the Vaterland, Sir Rysan!" The hall breaks into a roaring applause, and Sir Rysan stands to accept the praise {Sir Rysan has completed his quest & gained XP}. Wendelin leaned towards Johannes, "Well that was exciting! Lucky for Rysan that Count passed away, huh." Johannes responded, "Yea... lucky."]

[Private to Dwalin Grayhammer: Linus swung his axe fiercely, bashing against Dwalin's shield. If the axe hadn't been wooden, it easily could've broken an arm. Dwalin shouted, "Is that all?" He swung his own axe which missed. Linus smirked, for the swing hadn't even come close – except that was Dwalin's plan. The underside of the axehead hooked Linus's leg and tripped him; he fell onto his back, an awkward position when one's in full plate. "Ugh, no fair," he said as he lift his hands in surrender. Dwalin helped him to his feet; they'd been practicing often the past couple days, and they had the bruises to show for it. "That enough for today," Linus said, "Let's get some ale."

The two un-donned their armor and walked through the warm stone halls. This place was their home. They were born here. Warmth radiated from a large firepit at the side of the grand hall, a flame which rarely ever died. Dwarves were merriest with an ale in hand. That being said, there was no place merrier than the grand hall. The tables were almost full, but Dwalin and Linus had no trouble finding a place among friends. Suddenly, the doors slammed open as an elder walked into the room, followed by Komli Grayhammer. The elder spoke, "Silence bretheran, for the time is nigh." The room entered perfect silence; all dwarves revered the elders. "General Grayhammer's scouts have returned. It is as we feared. The Goblin Horde is not passing by our land; they have turned west and march toward our gates. They'll be here in 2 days. Prepare yourselves my bretheren." The elder and Komii Grayhammer left, and the hall broke into hushed speech. Linus spoke to Dwalin, "Seems we'll get the chance to put that practice to the test, right?.. Dwalin?" Dwalin didn't hear. His thoughts oddly went to the golden statues and the heroes of old. For he had much to live up to.]

Lady Jacqueline smiles and takes her box and a few sets of clothes into the bathroom, intricately placing them all on a bar to assess their new looks. She takes a look at a lavendar and light-gold trim, a burgundy and plum trim, and a deep sea blue and silvery-blue trim. A devious grin fleets across her face as she looks at the tub with oils. "I'll... be a few moments.." She longs to smell good again, and thus shuts the door behind herself.

[Private to DM Ryan: And, not forgetting about it, she pulls out the envelope in her bracer to see what is inside.]

In reply to DM Ryan (msg # 56):

[Private to DM Ryan:  Adwonus looks up at his newfound assistant, eying him carefully. The man's good. Too good. In the back of his mind he hopes the servant's corpse isn't discovered, but he trusts inthe sneak's ablities. He waits a moment before whispering, contemplating his orders. "I have a few possible plans," he starts, there's a pinch of unease in him. He's more of a bounty hunter than an assassin, but he works with what he has, " I need to know where our little lord sleeps. And I need you to keep his door, and any others that might hinder me unlocked tonight. I'll need a dagger, from one of the guards or servants. That will be the weapon I use. I'll also need you to keep him exposed, try to lure or dispose of his guard if he has one. I cannot be seen. Once he's slit and asleep again, I'll throw the dagger yard, as if an amateur tried to dispose of it, after which, I'll return to my bed. If I am to disappear it will be far too apparent." He pauses, "Look, I'm not an assassin. I'm a tracker, I want your opinion on this, can you do what I have asked?" His eyes are serious, and listening.]

"Child underneath the storm,
Thrown into by evil will."

[Private to Lady Jacqueline Raynelde: Inside the envelope a map covered in strange markings and a torn piece of paper from Biff's Journal. Lady Jacqueline reads several paragraphs that stand out...

These past few months, our numbers have been growing. People are now flocking to the name of Delcor faster than ever before.  And that's what worries me. It's almost too good to be true. I approached Kelden on this issue and tried to tell him my suspicions, that we're gaining new followers unreasonably fast, but he dismissed me saying, 'the people now recognize the justness of our cause.' He may be right. Perhaps I'm just being paranoid...

...I've been tracking pirates for the past year now, hoping to lead me to Alldyde, but it's been difficult these past few months; their movements have been nearly impossible to follow. However, I managed to follow one pirate yesterday to a tavern around the north side of town. I secretly watched him from a nearby table. The man ordered drinks while speaking to people around him, and I witnessed the strangest thing – he started to praise Delcor! He talked about Delcor's right to the lordship, his natural ability to lead, and the need to overthrow Steyus. Why would a pirate say these things?! He might not have been a pirate at all as he was dressed in normal clothing, and I foolishly mistook him for one. Or this one pirate may have been an unusual case, a man beginning to leave his corrupt ways. Then again I'm not so sure. It makes no sense...

...Later this week we're a negotiating a truce with Larlben at the Boar's Tusk. The union will give us the strength we need to overthrow Steyus at last. I've already begun talks with a man named Ming-Lo whose been a terrific drinking partner. When the negotiations are finished, I'll return and try talking to Kelden once more about my suspicions, but I'm not sure what good it'll do.]

[Private to Adwonus Swillman: Jeth's short brown hair and ordinary face are perfect for undercover work. With ease, he seems to blend in with the crowd, a likely reason he's been so successful as a blade-agent. He speaks with a serious tone as matters turn to business, "I can retrieve a weapon for you sir from the guard room; a dagger could easily become 'lost' after I clean their quarters. As for the door, it'd be unwise to unlock until just before it's time. If the door were discovered unlocked before then, it could arouse suspicion. To fix this, I can join you when you arise from your room and cover you on the mission. On another note, I'll also be present during this so-called lunch – in case anything goes wrong. If you need me to intervene at anytime, simply hum a tune. Is this alright sir?" Jeth's been well-disciplined by his training under Pyrra. He'll be quite useful indeed...]

[Private to Taisiya Northwood: Palms cupped together, the man held a small flame. There was no candle, match, nor wick, but simply a flame that rested inexplicably in his hands, floating just above the skin. He audibly exhaled, breathing life into the fire; it doubled in size, still mysteriously balanced on his palms. Cradled like a child, he held it up for Taisiya to see before dropping his arms. The flame disappeared where it was, as though it had never been. They sat on the edge of the pier where night had grown quiet and peaceful. "I was born here," he said. "When I was thirteen, I discovered something within. Without lifting a finger, I moved things around my house and chased our cat with dancing lights. My mother saw; she tried to drown me in order to 'save my soul'..." The last part he spoke with a cold countanence. "Obviously, I left after that," he smiled in a half-hearted effort at lightening the tone, but it was clearly something that perturbed him. "There aren't many people like us you know."

Taisiya's gaze drifted to the water, and she spoke, "When I was young, I had to flee my village. They would've killed me had I stayed." Taisiya choked on her words, for although it was the truth, she'd never said them aloud. "People are foolish," he replied. His hand reached out, lifting her chin. Her eyes met his which hid a dark well beneath surface, a bottomless pit carved out by a cruel world. "You aren't strange Taisiya, nor should you ever wish to be like them, as tempting as it may seem. Truth is you are better than them; they can't hope to be your equal nor comprehend the limit of your power. Learning this takes time, and I will help you." A more sincere statement could never be said. They left the pier, and for the first time in memory, Taisiya knew a friend.]

Taisiya ran her fingers along the smooth dresses in the wardrobes. The fabric was exquisite. She pawed through the fabrics, afraid of dirtying them or mistakenly hurting them. She carefully took out a long dress, coloured a soft blue with a trim shaded similar to a sunset. She walked over and gently lied it on the bed, waiting for Lady Jacqueline to finish in the baths. Taisiya looked at her white hair and saw all the dirt and dust within it, clearly showing with its dark contrast. She could not remember when she was last properly clean.

She turned towards Marcus and the remainder of the party in the rooms. She assumed that they would probably have proper questions, while the only thing she could think to herself was how must it have been to live like this? To grow up in a home like this? She pushed those ideas away, as well as her melancholy expression over them. "I suppose one question could be why you were sent to keep them safe, and why conceal your identity for that purpose?" Taisiya asked as she realized that there was a possibility of the rest of the party having mild shock, as they all seemed to have been together for some time.

In reply to DM Ryan (msg # 60):

[Private to DM Ryan: Adwonus looks at his comrade with approval, "good thinking on the lock. If you can help me open it tonight, please do so. Unless of course you could lift the key and deliver it unto me. Which ever you think would be the best route. But I must stress, that this cannot be a cut and run for me. I need to awake with the rest of the party so I appear innocent. Perhaps you could make a rather, shall we say, 'showy' exit in the morning and slip away into the city? That would definitely allow me to keep my cover, but only if you are willing to take that risk. I do not want to waste lives."]

Marcus shrugs in response to the fair-haired woman's questions, apparently not phased by the sudden directness. "I'm not certain what my father wishes of them exactly, but I do know that whatever it is must be of great importance to the city. He wouldn't have sent me, otherwise. As for concealing my identity, I should think it would be obvious. My father is the wealthiest man in the city. I might be able to handle myself in a fight, but I could still have been a target of anyone knew who I was." He regards her with the same casual air, though wonders how much trust in himself has been lost.

     I leaf through the various tunics before settling on a particular fancy tunic. A blue one with silver trim, with the appropriate accompanying white shirt, dark tights, and bright royal blue cape, as well as any other appropriate accessories and attire. Some more comfortable footwear as well. I fasten the cape with the new broach I received in my box. I change into all this new noble looking attire. I finally finish it off with a regal looking hat with an attractive set of feathers in it. I lastly place my equipment belt and weapons belt over my outfits nice belt. {Looks similar to this tunic in blue with silver trim http://www.monde-medieval.com/...362-tunic-noble.html} {Also, what is the weather like outside our window? I would not want to wear something too warm on a hot day}
     I look up with a smile as Marcus leans in the door, "I am pleasantly surprised by your company Marcus. I have a question for you: How do you think this looks? Appropriate for your court?" I say it with a grin pulling my cloak hems wide and then bowing.

[Private to Dwalin Grayhammer; Lady Jacqueline Raynelde; Marcus Larlben; Taisiya Northwood:
{I speak privately here because Adwonus left and he speaks in PMs so I thought it fitting to do the same, shall we all do this while he is gone?}
     I move toward Marcus as I speak with a big smile. "Though, seriously my friend, are these all for us to keep? These outfits of nobility? Are these gifts from your father?"
     After his answer I am closer and speak looking directly at him, "I do have some more serious questions for you. I would ask that I would be able to keep my sword and dagger on me, or at minimum near me at the meal. A knight is not supposed to ever be far from his sword. I was told your mother forbids weapons at meals. I would think your father's intentions for us are good, else I know not why he would have risked his own son to protect us, but still, I have a code; a knight is never to be caught unable to defend himself. I mean, I see you with your sword on your hip. Would it be unfitting for us to come to dinner wearing our armour as well?"
     After Marcus reply I answer, "One last question, we were told Martin was here, do you know if he is well?"
      I lean in closer to speak this last line almost whispering, "Do you know where Adwonus is by the way, he left as you arrived, he seems to do that too often."]

Marcus chuckles, "You look excellent Herr Johannes. In fact, you're all welcome to keep those outfits!" That makes Herr Johannes happy. Marcus steps inside and sits at a table in the room. He's changed into new clothing as well. Between the truth of his background and the new elaborate clothes, Marcus now seems like an entirely different person. As he sits, Adwonus also returns from his walk, muttering, "Nice place." The half-orc leans on a wall near Dwalin and they talk to each other in loud whispers, "A lot of art here. I could never understand it." Dwalin responds in a similar whisper (although a dwarven whisper is closer to regular speech), "It's human art; it all looks ugly to me." Marcus politely ignores their conversation and continues in a casual manner, "Mother doesn't like weapons in the dining hall, but if you wear them, they probably won't say anything out of politeness. I'd shy away from armor through," Marcus lightly laughs, "Would be an awkward thing for lunch! By the way, I haven't learned about Martin yet, I'd suggest asking my father during our meal." Lady Jacqueline peers into the room, her hair wrapped up in a towel, "Hey you boys, finish getting ready! We'll be going downstairs soon!" Taisiya sprints gleefully toward the newly empty bathroom, and the men finish putting on their outfits. It's a good thing Marcus was present since Adwonus couldn't figure out how to tie the decorative threads on his tunic!

"Follow me," Sonfred briskly says. The men are stunned as Lady Jacqueline and Taisiya enter the hall, each wearing elegant dresses of contrasting blue. Together, they resemble the twilight sky, jewels in their hair like stars. Herr Johannes deeply blushes, despite a mental effort not to, and holds out an arm for Lady Jacqueline who grabs it jovially. Everyone's quite pleased with their new appearances. Sonfred leads them back down the marble steps onto the first floor and into a large hall through a near door. Inside is a long wooden table surrounded by numerous, ornate chairs. Various servants who stood about the room step forward and hold out seats for the party. The party sits down on soft, leather cushioned chairs, their minds hardly able to handle the luxury. Lady Jacqueline stretches out a hand and touches the bouquet of flowers in front of her; there were so many colors, she didn't think they were real. Celus Larlben walks in through another door, dressed in a green tunic, his dark brown hair styled to perfection. "Thank you all for coming, truly. My wife will be joining us in a moment - she always takes long to get ready." He pleasantly smiles and sits at the end of the table with Marcus at his right. Servants enter from a smaller door on the opposite side of the room and place trays of fruits and pastries along the center of the table, quickly followed by pitchers of wine. "Please, relax! We have a lot to talk about..."

[Private to Adwonus Swillman: "I will do my best sir," Jeth replied with a bow. Adwonus smirked, "I know you will." The two parted, and Adwonus headed back toward the room, his mind focused on the matters at hand...]

[Private to Herr Johannes: "How did the Count of Torne die exactly?" "He fell ill and succumbed to a fever one week ago my prince," spoke the royal barber. His scissors moved deftly around Johannes's ears, who was in dire need of a haircut. Johannes said, "The Count always seemed to be the picture of good health, shame about his passing." "Indeed sir," the servant continued while bits of blonde hair foated to the ground, "They say he ate some poorly cooked meat. Needless to say, his chef will have a hard time finding work after this!" The servant chuckled at his own joke. Thankfully for Johannes, the barber's hands remained steady. "Wouldn't he continue working under Sir Rysan?" A large tuft of hair fell on Johannes's chest, "Nay sir. Sir Rysan is said to have fired all the old servants and replaced them with his own." "What?" Johannes flinched and the scissors sheared a clip of hair they weren't supposed to. The servant exclaimed, "Apologies my prince! How clumsy of me." "No, it's alright," Johannes responded, "That was my fault truly. But you were saying about Sir Rysan's household?" "Apparently Sir Rysan wished to have servants from his homeland to speak his native tongue with, which is somewhere in Bishapur I expect." Johannes grew quiet as the servant finished his work. "I see..." The royal barber held a mirror in front of Johannes who nodded in approval without looking. His mind was elsewhere. ]
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:23, Sun 31 Aug 2014.

[Private to DM Ryan: Upon 'not hearing about Martin yet', Lady Jacqueline keeps her calm and notes that along with the collection of her letter, which lies safely within her dress where men (unless they were vulgar-- or married) would not dare reach for. She smirks to herself and simply sighs, peering over her shoulder at her weapons laid neatly out on the bed.]

Lady Jacqueline's face seemed fair, [Private to DM Ryan: almost pale] in her new dress. The deep blue and silver trim seemed to match Herr Johannes almost exactly, which made her, in turn, blush. "You look..." she ponders to herself to find a fitting word, "...Royal, Herr Johannes." She laughs heartily, bowing almost as a response, and then further prodding him gently. "May I call you 'Lord' Johannes?" [Private to Herr Johannes: Her eyes seemed to be within the room, taking in all the overwhelming things, and her chatter interacting, and yet her mind seemed a little far away. She has a little trepidation about the dinner, about meeting her ladyship-- something about it seems bewildering and anticipatory, like she had to be aware of whom she is first before meeting her.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:12, Sun 31 Aug 2014.

I greet Lady Jacqueline's compliment with a flourishing courtly bow. "You are looking most elegant yourself. A dress fitting of a full standing Lady." I smile and offer my arm in courtly manner to escort her down the flights of stairs to the dinning room.
     [Private to GM: 'Royal... Lord... A title all too fitting. If only she knew. I wish I could tell her, not yet though... I was born to wear that crown. Not time to think about this...' I push the thoughts from my mind once again. It is hard, if only someone could know, but not now. It is far too dangerous. 'I understand exactly why Marcus had to conceal his identity, that is why I do not hold it against him at all.']
     [Private to Lady Jacqueline Raynelde: "I appreciate the offer of 'Lord,' Mein lieber, but I would that I not draw unnecessary attention. Though I do like the title." I lean closer to Lady Jacqueline and whisper. "I opened that sack I got from the man in the Inn. 24 gold. I spent most of it at the Bazaar. Did you open the envelope?"]
     Upon our arrival to the banquet hall I graciously accept my seating from the servant. I appreciate so much servants like that. I always feel such gratitude, even though it is their job, that is they get paid to do it. {if I am seated near Larlben Senior I lean toward him If not then I ask the servant to wait or wave them on and pass my seat to talk to him.} I make a point to move purposefully, gracefully, and calmly where I go in the Dinning Room. I lean toward Larlben when I reach him. I speak quietly, respectfully, and calmly while I address Master Larlben.
     [Private to GM: {only those nearby would hear this, I presumed it was them. I mainly did not want Adwonus to hear}]
     [Private to DM Ryan; Lady Jacqueline Raynelde; Marcus Larlben; Dwalin Grayhammer; Taisiya Northwood: "Master Larlben, How shall I address you? ...I very much do not wish to offend, but as a knight I have a code of honor. I do not wish to go against your wishes, but I would like to at least inform you. As you can see I have my sword on my hip. Marcus is similarly so armed. My code requires I be armed nearly at all times. Experience has taught me the same. I pray it does not offend you or your wife. It is not that I am distrust of you or your wife, I am merely beholden to my duty."]
     After speaking I bow apologetically and nod in deference to him. After hearing his reply I respond {presumably thank you by the address he requests} and I return to my seat.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:44, Tue 02 Sept 2014.

Lady Jacqueline smiles shyly and nods at Herr Johannes [Private to Herr Johannes: in response to his question] and slides a folded piece of paper into his sleeve ere sitting at the long table and taking a seat opposite from Larlben senior next to Johannes. Across the top, one reads "Meine Lieber."

She lowers herself gracefully into a chair, patiently awaiting for someone to open up about recent events, whether future or past.

[Private to DM Ryan: The note is transposed in poetic German. The original copy lies in her bodice where no man dare reaches. :P  DM Ryan - Hehe, I don't think you had time to translate that journal fragment into german prose in between recently reading it in the bathroom and now. Something that lengthy, including writing a full copy, requires prior mention. Disallowed.

Well, fine, I'll make something up, haha. I had a back-up. And it'll be short. The real copy is still in her bodice.]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:35, Wed 03 Sept 2014.

Marcus sits next to his father, awaiting the arrival of his mother. He feels on edge, anxiousness slowly creeping up on him. He waits quietly, seeming to barely notice the others as he waits to see something particular.

Dwalin sits down where the servant indicates is his seat. As we are waiting for the food you hear a faint rumble. "My apologies,  I have not eaten for several hours." after a moment of silence dwalin a dresses Celus."Sir larlben, would you let us know what is going on here? I'm quite confused, as I expect my comrades are as well, to what happened at the inn and how you knew of our mission?"

Celus Larlben lightly smiles and replies to Dwalin, "No need for 'Sir' my friend. I'm neither a knight nor of noble birth; just a common man whose been fortunate in many ways." He takes a brief drink of wine. Although Celus Larlben appears calm and polite, a slight wrinkle of anxiety flashes across his face; or perhaps it's not anxiety at all – excitement? [Private to Herr Johannes: "And you may keep your weapon my friend. I doubt the Mrs. will notice tonight," he responds.]

"Please, call me Celus." A few servants bring pitchers of water as he continues speaking, "And I'm still not certain what occurred at the inn myself. However, I have some suspicions that I'll share with you later." Marcus places a pastry on his plate, attempting to keep things casual, but his ears rest intently on his father's words. "I never actually knew what mission Steyus gave you; in fact, I didn't care. When the report arrived from Noble Benson, an ally of mine, with names of whom he'd recruited for Steyus, I'd normally have payed it no attention. Until I saw one name on there which changed everything."

Celus itches his eye, apparently struggling to keep a dignified appearance, "Trusting my only son, I sent him to join you, and eventually bring you here to me." Herr Johannes speaks, "Why? For what purpose?" Seemingly deaf to the question, Celus looks at Lady Jacqueline and asks, "Jacqueline, where were you raised? How did you grow up?" Spoken earnestly, his gaze finally reveals an intense eagerness. Everyone stares at Lady Jacqueline in anticipation. [Private to Marcus Larlben: Your focus follows everyone else's to Lady Jacqueline. Her eyes widen at the sudden onset of attention, their deep blue color amplified by her azure dress. Marcus feels a puzzle piece fall into place, and the world shifts around him...][Private to Lady Jacqueline Raynelde: Everyone is staring at you, and your eyes widen in surprise. You look around and see Marcus, apparently unaware of what his father is exactly talking about, like everyone else. You feel a sudden onset of comfort as Marcus slowly smiles at you, as though he'd just come to a realization in his mind. A puzzle piece fall into place, and the world shifts around you...]
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:21, Wed 03 Sept 2014.

     I am impressed at Celus's level of informality and lack of title. 'Ist er aufrichtig, dass demütigen?' I think to myself. I am interested at his passing of topics such as the battle at the inn and the lack of importance placed upon our identities as agents of Steyus. It is surprising, our visit here I think has little to do with our mission and the recent civil unrest it seems. I do still wonder where Martin is... I am excited though, I think something thrilling is afoot. I cannot help it, but my face begins to light up and a smile appears as I slowly turn to look at Lady Jacqueline. Could it be?!

     [Private to GM: Is Lady Jaqueline's mother not only alive, but the wife of Celus?! Is Marcus her half brother or full brother?! Anticipation begins to fill my heart with joy... I know I might be incorrect, but I feel my spirit seems to continue to confirm it to be true.]

In reply to Herr Johannes (msg # 72):

Trapper appears from the hallway and into the conversation with Celus. He eyes him intently before speaking. "You say you have suspicions about the Inn. Spit them out, I don't like having treats dangled in front of me for the future. You say you are not of noble birth, you are a common man? then let's cut the formalities."
His voice is sharp, unlike his attire, which he has not changed. Adwonus stands proudly in his dirtied dark red tunic, gray cloak and leather puldrons. You can see impatience in his eyes, and then again, you realize that he has no time for games. He wants answers.

[Private to DM Ryan: I take a look at Celus, seeing if he appears to be trained, IE his movements, his figure. ]

Lady Jacqueline ponders a moment as Larlben Sr. discourages the title of 'sir' before his name. She carefully ponders what he says about the inn and inwardly feels off about how immediately trusting she was of Marcus at their first encounter; he never did share the same mission as they-- only aided a way to get through it. [Private to DM Ryan: And we failed our mission... Life certainly only ever seemed a way through situations, rather than being able to enjoy the thrill of adventure along the way. Survival. Instinct. Dodging dangers and achieving a common goal.]She mindlessly grabs a pastry from on the dish and bites timidly into it.

At the direct address of her name, her eyes come back into the room and widen. The sudden question, in shock, makes her swallow hard and she begins to cough.[Private to DM Ryan: In her moment of coughing, Lady Jacqueline's mind reels back to back before the streets, back to where her rooms were warm, and her food plentiful, and her hands fair and dainty, and her hair beautifully combed into curls that rested on her shoulders. Her mother sang beautiful songs that brought her comfort and soothed her, or helped her feel more encouraged, should she be sick with a fever. Songs, that is, forgotten for a time. Her room would tilt at times with gravity and sink back down from a wave-- or at least, one of her rooms. She recalls a stone home vaguely, remembering sitting next to a fireplace, braiding her own hair... but not much farther back beyond before they moved towards the city. It seemed a blur between living in the city and going on the ship, learning about the stars with navigation and maps for the sea.] Lady Jacqueline takes a deep breath and covers her mouth quickly with a napkin, blinking furiously to keep from tearing up at the itch in the back of her throat. Silly crumbs.[Private to DM Ryan: But more memories seep. Lady Jacqueline recalls other times where she had been taken overboard during that massive storm. She almost felt like she was wiggling cargo that the man who'd grabbed her had handled before, and his steely grip would not free her with any protest or movement. Resigned to tears and screaming, she blurred her eyes with her small palms and buried her face into the man's large side, not caring who he was... simply feeling safe. When she awoke from terrible dreams to loud men barking orders at each other, she remembers being carried in the man's large arm, just waiting for that moment when-- out of his notice and unprepared for her movement, she escaped and fled towards the city, dodging yells with a smile on her face. She pretended that she was friends with the wealthy young ones in the city and turned down an alley where they each knew to gather for some kind of game while their parents were shopping in the city.] Her face turned a little red from the fury of her coughs, and when they finally died down, she regained her composure to open her mouth to begin to speak. Alas, and cut off by Adwonus yet again, she pauses and allows him to finish his sentences first.

"Why is it you always manage to pop in right when we're trying to be civilized people, 'Trapper' Adwonus?" she bites the words as though she didn't want them to taint her teeth. She rolls her eyes. [Private to DM Ryan: Her mind continues in the memories, as though they beckoned to be opened-- begged to be opened like a book. The boys, at the end of the day, had parents to retreat to. One boy, in particular, crawled back into the space where they played and pulled out a crate that had an opening on one side and a blanket nestled within it. She tilts her head and asks, 'What, do you sleep outside, boy?' Feeling a little resentful the boy retorted, 'Well, where are your parents, miss? You seem too fancy to be out here in that,' he gestured to her silk and embroidered child's gown. She glanced down at her dress and shrugged off the earlier part of the day with a shudder. 'Actually... I.. ran away...' She bites her lip. The boy brightens up and pulls up another crate. 'Well, you can sleep in this one. Master's always lookin' for new recruits.' Jackie's brow furrows at the thought of a master over her. She was so used to being in that position...] After a pause, she looks at Larlben matter-of-factly. "I grew up in the city." She pursed her lips, looking at her plate with a half-eaten biscuit on it.[Private to DM Ryan: Jackie wakes up the next day, the boy gone somewhere. She looks in his crate and finds a small pouch of coins. Not knowing any better, she tenderly picks it up and places it in her bodice before sneaking away into the city. New boys and girls filled the side streets, but the boy couldn't be found anywhere. Well I guess he doesn't want his gold back... A girl, not too far ahead of her waves and beckons her over. Two girls appeared from under a man's large coat, sharing biscuits with each other. They each break off a portion and willingly share with Jackie. Out of the corner a boy runs up and steals a piece before running off and laughing with it. The girls scream and the man standing there (presumably their father) takes one look at Jackie and pushes his girls forward to go back home. Swallowing hard, Jackie walks up to a clothing store. 'Excuse me... I'd like to sell my dress for street clothes.'] She folds her arms and glares into the empty space. "It was a hard life for a while, but... I managed with a few friends." [Private to DM Ryan: Jackie blinks back a few tears. A few nights alone and disguised as a street girl with her hair becoming a little knotted from the wild... and she deeply yearned for home. Not being able to hold back the pain from the loss for much longer, she wails and cries out, 'Mommy...!' over and over, until the fit disappears from the smell of food gingerly tapping on her nose. Thankfully she was in an ally where there were no windows to hear or see her crying. But she finds herself getting up and following her nose, despite the night activities. She walks up to a rather large stoney house and peers up at a window where those two girls were laughing and playing. One of the girls, by lucky chance sees poor Jackie and gasps, running up to the window. 'Little girl!' she whispers harshly. 'Why are you dressed like that? Are you poor?' Tears threatened her eyes, and Jackie nodded with pain written in her face. 'Well... Can you take a cake home? Freshly made. Dad hates when we get into trouble, and...' She glances over her shoulder, her quiet sister placing a shush-finger up to her lips. 'You can have it. We like getting his attention that way.' Jackie humbly, feebly reaches forward to the girls. And soon, a meat pie is dropped down into her hands, putting blisters where she catches it. Coins, then, are dropped on her head and land in the new mess in her hands. 'You may want to go across town to the Inn, there. They will employ you, if you tell them Laufleins sent you.' Jackie nods and swiftly eats the pie, pocketing the gold coins they dropped.]

[Private to DM Ryan: It had been several days, and no one seemed to receive anything about Laufleins, whatever that meant. But at least she was getting rather skillful at pocketing coins that dropped on the ground. She didn't feel right stealing from people she didn't know. Those girls, however, were something. Something she couldn't just forget. Were they trying to laugh more at her state? She sighs deeply, rubbing her hands carefully together from the blisters. A stout man grabs her shoulder and squints into her very face, nose-to-nose. 'Laufleins?' he barks. 'Ever heard of Larlbens? Is that who you meant?' Jackie's eyes cast downward. The man pauses for a long time and walks away, dropping a rather large pouch in her hands before he leaves. 'Come to the Yvette-and-Hyde Inn. We'll keep you warm. You're not meant to be in the streets.' Jackie stands, appalled. This stash had enough gold for her dress back, and a few meals. Her stomach growled in protest, and Jackie goes on her way toward a stand.]