Guys -  time to start Private Messages for those things that you want to accomplish without the group.  So family visits, and questions / politics etc.

I'll start a 'Group Dinner' in here  in a few days time.

Kiera just sighs, and looks more than a little abashed.

"...look.  I'm not used to anybody giving a damn about me after my job's done.  I was raised by trappers and skinners out in the forests before you all came along and started carving a nation out of it.  All I know about my family is one of my parents were First World, the other one wasn't.  I made up my last name.

But... if you want... I'll go with you two... if you- and your family- is willing to tolerate me being there and give me a room far away from yours."

She gave the two the most semi-confident grin she could, trying to imply her usual things.

"...but me, in a ballgown?  ...I'm not that type of girl.  I'm just some wanderer who lucked into a decent paying g- bunch and got extremely lucky.  I've never even been shopping for clothes that weren't just sailcloth or the like.  But..."

She leaned in close, whispering something to the both of them.

"Oh, the thing to remember about all the best families ... is that all of them started out as trappers and skinners or somesuch, though they prefer to forget that now," Percy tells Kiera, kindly.  "And most of them have taken certain liberties with their last names too.  A minor spelling change ... and suddenly they become that much more acceptable to those who played the same game but a few generations before."

"Kiera you could share an apartment with Alisa, or even my sister.  I'll get my own room sharing the apartment with my brother I expect unless he is off on family business.  You are my friend and if I hear any rumours implying anything else." his hand reaches across to the hilt of his sword.  "I will defend both of your honour." he says dramatically.

"Besides when was the last time you got to use a private bathhouse?"

"...Ali, hang onto him with all your might.  He keeps acting like this, I'm bound to try and steal him."

She would sigh, but fall in line behind the two of them.

"...fine, you convinced me.  I can't say I'm worth all the trouble, but fine, let's go.  ...and if I end up in a dress or something else..."

Her voice drops to a mutter, even as she lightly flushes.

Yolen grins at Kiera's discomfort,  as she leans back and puts her booted feet up on the table.  "I think I'll have another ale ..."

Alisa smiled compassionately.  "Kiera, my dear friend.   My mother is an elf of the Mordant Spire.  A people so eccentric, enigmatic, xenophobic and drenched in ancient mysticism, that they may as well be of the First World.   There was plenty of rumor and talk when my father wed her.  When I was three winters, she abandoned my father and I for good, to return home.   There was more rumor and talk.    When I was eleven, a supposedly deceased goddess of old Azlant reached to me, and I began learning her sacred ways through dream.   Sometimes while sleeping.  And other times while yet awake.   When it reached a point where I could work divine magic, without ever having trained in a temple...well, not physically speaking, at least...rumor and talk ran rampant.    Once I declared the source of it, began practicing in that deceased deity's name, I was then whispered about as everything from liar, to witch, to necromancer, to tainted moonbitch." She paused, shrugged.

"I cannot tell you how piss little I care about gossip. The people I need to reach aren't the sort who pay it heed."

She grinned at Dom's chivalrous proclamation, and Kiera's playful threat.

"He is a catch, I'd be the last to deny."  She winked, smiled again.  "Defensive battle is the philosophy of my faith.  And, I'm rarely without a counter move once a would be conqueror tips their hand."

Percy groans inwardly.  Family politics ...

"I think I'll join you," he tells Yolen, gesturing politely for someone to come serve them.

Yolen nods a welcome to Percy and waits until the barkeep arrives with a jug of ale.  "It isn't  the best here, but the ale is OK, and the bunk room is dry and out of the wind.  You noticed the lack of troops?" she asks the merchant.  "It has been happening for a couple of trips now.  Every time I go through now, there are fewer troops and more auxiliaries and, when I ask, I am told that the missing troopers have been deployed to the north.

It looks like it is all coming to a head between Surtova and the Aldori.  He has bided his time as regent,  but now ..."

"You've heard news of Surtova from a reliable source? We should make sure that Lord LeMaistre is aware of this." Kendrick looked troubled, "This may have implications for the Midmarch."

Percy pulls a face, as if his ale has suddenly soured.  The news that war is imminent troubles him, though it merely reinforces his opinion of family politics, this being merely a question of scale and consequences.

Yolen shrugs, "Just the soldiers along the route, and you know how much  marshals actually tell the people on the ground ... they tell them where they are going, not why they are going there." Then she relents slightly  "Still, you will be able to let him know when we get back."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:13, Sun 23 Feb 2020.

A DAY OR SO LATER

The Fifth Army Restaurant has been quiet, and it has  been easy to get a table.  The morning of your booking a young messenger delivers the confirmation of your booking along with details of the restaurant's Dress Code.  No weapons larger than a dagger, no armour and  smartly dressed etc.

When he receives the details of the restaurant booking and dress code Brother Florin makes a few discrete enquiries about what is and isn't considered 'smartly dressed' in Restov these days. Apart from the old suit of leather armour he wore on the journey from Tusk he has only brought his white Abadaran clerical robes. Will they suffice or is it time to go shopping?

Asking around, Florin learns that while some people wear courtiers style clothes to the restaurant, not everyone does.   Work wear, threadbare or travel stained clothes are frowned on, and most people wear their 'Sunday Best'.

---

OOC:

So it is probably time to go shopping - however, there are a number of options  (especially if the clothes are brand new),  some suggestions are ...

Scholar's Outfit
Traveller's outfit  (With a jacket or vest)
Squire's Outfit (with a jacket or vest rather than a Tabard)
... Other non-workwear costumes  might be appropriate as well  :)

Some people choose to jazz those up a bit with a scarf or some minor trim to make it more  'best' ....
https://www.d20pfsrd.com/equip...ners-bags-boxes-more


A Courtier's Outfit works just as well, if you have one or want to buy one  (remember the jewellery)

Styles of formal clothing  (ie courtiers / Noble costumes) can be found here
http://rp.baileymail.net/doku....eral:formal_clothing
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:48, Tue 25 Feb 2020.

Florin decided the most appropriate style for him tonight would be to add to his normal white clerical robe to upgrade it equivalent to a respectable scholar's outfit. No, why not invest in a new robe of better quality than his everyday one? He would certainly have plenty of use for it back in Tusk.  He knew that he would be able to buy that at the temple along with the right sort of cloak with Abadar's golden key subtly represented and just the right amount of yellow trim for a canon to wear, not a priest. Then off to the market for a suitable new cap, belt and soft leather shoes to complete the outfit.

At the restaurant you are shown to the table that has been reserved for Lord Winters, and waiters attend to each of you individually, pulling your chair out for you, seating you and helping get the chair back into position.  Then they take the napkin from the place setting in front of you, flip it open and lay it across your lap ...

You get the impression that you will be paying for this meal in Gold Pieces, rather than silver ....

Percy elects not to attend the formal dinner, instead taking the opportunity to pay his respects to certain citizens who favour late hours, much as he himself does.

The young gentleman seems a little on edge in the city, constantly looking over his shoulder, rather less surreptitiously than he imagines.

Mikki waited in the dining room that was set apart for Sir Kendrick's dinner party. She had changed out of her usual attire. Gone were the simple trousers, shirt and boots. Kendrick told her that she was to entertain his guests until he arrived... "He's over a minute late. What is taking him so long?"

Mikki was dressed in a simple but elegant long sleeved dark brown dress. A brooch of a sun and moon is pinned high on her left chest. She looked over the place settings, again.

Florin entered rather self-consciously and looked around until he spotted Mikki in the dining room. He sighed gratefully to himself as he took in the quality of his surroundings and the clientele in the restaurant, glad that he had spent the money required for new clothing.

"Hello Mikki, that dress suits you beautifully. Are we the first to arrive?" he greeted her.

Domitius arrived at the restaurant in the Solanus family coach with Alisa and Kiera, his squire Barbatius and the priest Thaddeus riding in escort.  He wore a formal military style suit but instead of the Restov city guard colours he usually wore this one was black with a white sash and facings.  He disembarked the coach and offered his arm to the ladies as they exited and headed inside.

In reply to ~Brother Florin (msg # 67):

"Yes. You are the first." Mikki gave an empty glass to Florin. She poured the wine into the glass while holding his forearm. "Wine?" Her eyes focused on his. Her hand squeezed his forearm. "I trust that the other guests will be fashionably late." She lowered her eyes and looked at the glass.

Stepping alongside Dom, Kiera is, well... different.

Her hair is brushed and washed- for once, not left to hang around her head, but styled back and left to drape down behind her.  Just enough in the way of makeup to accent, and a 'green dress' (in reality, it was more of a hunter green, to match her eyes)- and surprisingly, her dress is more conservatively cut than some might think she'd go for.

"...your mother is a force of nature.  Never, in all my years..." she seems to be muttering, even as she walks with him on brand new shoes in the same color.

Domitius had already seen Alisa dressed to the nines on one occasion;  that being the Naming Day, where she'd been deadset on making an impression, and acquired that bank breaking gown.

For this outing, the result of the seamstresses' work was an azure blue, off the shoulder number.    A bit less stylized than the aforementioned gown, but no less elegant.   She'd debated some time on how to do her hair.   The formal priestess braid was out, and she'd undone it prior to getting dressed.    She did not like wearing her hair up, never had, it just never felt like her.   Finally, she'd settled on a low pony tail.   Not the most formal of styles. But it was held in a fine, sterling silver ponytail cuff (her favorite, a gift from her beloved aunt), which added some sparkle and class.    Her shoes were white like her hair.

She laughed at Kiera's mutterings.  "That she is!  You look fantastic! You could get used to it, I bet."        And as for Domitius, she was always more than happy to see him in a suit.

"You both look stunning, I'm sure to be the envy of every man here just for sharing a coach let alone a meal with such beauty." Dom said smiling at Alisa and Kiera as the three climbed the stairs and entered the restaurant.