Shana wanders around the ball, keeping her ears open and her mouth mosstly shut: or at least not saying anything of importance. She avoids the War Wizards like the plague, and is mostly trying to pick up gossip with anyone who looks interesting. She may loiter around the punchbowl for a bit...
Blaise heads to the party, dressed finely in dark clothes of burgundy and black, with a matching cape -- the better to show off his fiery red hair. His militia badge is tucked away in a pocket of his silk vest. He carries no weapons, but then, he doesn't feel he needs anything as "mundane" as a dagger.
On his way, he concentrates briefly, tapping into the enhanced senses and knowledge provided by his fickle patrons. (OOC: Blaise invokes both see the unseen and otherworldly whispers.)
Once inside, he looks around at the attendees, happily noticing the variety of people present, including a small group of gnomes. He still is delighted by the diversity of cultures and races in this land. He had thought his native land of Darkon was accepting -- even appreciative -- of other cultures, but it was nothing compared to this world.
He spots Shana chatting with a few guests by the punchbowl, and he restrains a reflexive urge to join her for some verbal jousting -- best to keep his eyes on the "new" faces. However, he does see Inovidil a couple of steps away, and he says, "Inovidil, I almost didn't recognize you without the sweat, blood, and grime of our usual get-togethers. Pleasant change, no? You look quite splendid, by the way."
When Baron Ildool is introduced, he quickly glances up and studies the man. "Ah, the man of mystery ... well, one of them in this town."
"There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are."
--W. Somerset Maugham
ewancummins wrote:at the party-
As the baron enters, Alain has mananged to track down Jonet Prake, but not Delthrin. Prake, a nervous looking young man clad in a blue drees uniform with silver toggles, stands near the punchbowl, sipping a half empty glass and looking about apprehensively at the fine ladies and well dressed gentlemen who surround him.
Alain, after spotting Prake, casually makes his way over to the punch bowl and pours himself a cup.
He takes a drink, feigning enjoyment from his sweet, syrupy drink. Stifling a cough as he swallows, he pounds on his own chest to clear his pipes.
"(wheeze...)Say, (herm...) You wouldn't happen to be Jonet (cough...) Jonet Prake, would you?" He finishes with face freshly blushed from his near choking, looking at the man with an interested expression on his face.
Jonet Prake turns to face Alain. He had been ogling a lovely redhead who stands just a little distance away from the table [Shana].
''Why yes, I'm Jonet Prake. Uhhh...do I know you, sir?''
The youthful soldier adjusts his blue uniform jacket whilst speaking, fidgeting a little with the toggles.
Last edited by ewancummins on Mon May 11, 2009 7:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Once Rardi and Archedius find a secluded area, Rardi speaks, relating to him what transpired with her and Blaise and the prisoner. She also tells him what she learned from the Whorehouse and the prisoner.
Done, she looks at him. "So what about yer day? Anything interestin 'appen like it happened fer me? Got ta love a razor weildin drunkard, eh? Though he bein unner a spell bothers me more 'n' a lil, Archedius."
Jamethon takes a seat at the corner table. He orders drinks for himself and Ironheart and waits.
Before the drinks arrive, four men enter the Frogwife. Their long black cloaks are dripping wet- it's raining again. The new comers hustle over to the table where Jamethon sits. They pause to regard Ironheart with suspicious looks, and then slowly take their seats.
One of the cloaked men, an ugly fellow with a cross-shaped scar over his left cheek, speaks-
''Who's the big man, Moorkroft?''
''Friend of mine. Best you not irritate him, he's got a devil of a temper.''
''Huh...''
''Do you have what I need? ''
''Do you have the money?''
Moorkroft tosses a small sack onto the table, which lands with a clinking sound.
Cross-face snatches the purse. He empties it of coins and quickly counts his payment.
''Alright....here you are.''
Crossface motions to one of his companions, a short man with pinched features and jaundiced skin. The companion removes, very slowly, a hand sized packet wrapped up in waxed paper from under his cloak. He sets this on the table and slides it over to Jamethon.
The ex-priest picks up the package. He pulls out a penknife and makes a slit in the paper...
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
While Threan is eating and drinking he is keeping a his ears and eyes open to anybody/thing out of the ordinary at the party while not seeming to do so .(1)
1.Bluff Check 23
"Evil only endures when good people remain silent ."
Tony inspired by Thomas Jefferson .
"Thanks Blaise! For an occasion like that I thought a dress was far better than my normal clothes. You look handsome too. Guess we should try to get invited to such places more often!"
She winks at the man and getting herself a coup of punch says:
"Everything seem ok so far."
Glancing Lord Ildool continues.
"What do you say, can we go and introduce ourselves and tell him how lovely is his party?"
Last edited by VAN on Tue May 12, 2009 3:49 am, edited 2 times in total.
- The first 2 Feats a wizard should take are "point blank shot" and "Precise shot"!
- W H A T ! ? !
- Or they should NEVER memorize rays!
VAN wrote:"What do you say, can we go and introduce ourselves and tell him how lovely is his party?"
Blaise says, "Hmmm, why not?" Offering his elbow to Ino, he escorts her toward Baron Scoril. As they walk, he concentrates briefly, trying to detect the vague yet always impressive signs of magical activity around him.* He whispers quickly, "By the way, for tonight, my last name is Zilfarrik."
Assuming Scoril's guards let them get within speaking distance, he bows slightly before Scoril and says, "Good evening, your Lordship. This is a magnificent gala! Your presence is certainly what this town has needed to boost its spirits. Oh my manners ... this shy beauty is Inovidil, and my name is Blaise Zilfarrik, a historian, at your service." He politely bows his head again. "Perhaps at some point -- if your Lordship's schedule allows -- you would consent to an interview? I'd be interested in your thoughts on the region's history."
* OOC: Blaise is using detect magic (an at-will ability for warlocks). He's also keeping his eyes open for any invisible activity, using see the unseen.
"There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are."
--W. Somerset Maugham
ewancummins wrote:at the party, near the punchbowl
Jonet Prake turns to face Alain. He had been ogling a lovely redhead who stands just a little distance away from the table [Shana].
''Why yes, I'm Jonet Prake. Uhhh...do I know you, sir?''
The youthful soldier adjusts his blue uniform jacket whilst speaking, fidgeting a little with the toggles.
"er, No, You don't know me. My name is Alain Guischard. I am in the employ of the local militia."
He then turns to Jonet.
"You performed quite an amazing feat, defending the Baron until the end. What some people don't understand is that it is our duty to perform in such a fashion for those kept in our charge. You probably have never heard of an event like this in the honor of a guardsman before have you?"
"Listen Jonet, I realize that you must already be on edge about tonights festivities being in your honor. I know I would be very uncomfortable. But I must ask you, could I possibly have the opportunity to hear your accounts first hand at what happened that night in the citadel?"
Archedius leans in towards Rardi after she finishes speaking,
"That's what disturbs me the most. This much sorcery being thrown around so...casually does not bode well. I found out that if the weapon used for the beheadings were enchanted that it would have to be a very powerful one indeed."
He laughs as though he had heard a joke and keeps a smile plastered on his muzzle as he continues,
"There are no such weapons really registered, nor were any local smithies capable of creating such although a powerful mage would be able to. I'm thinking it's more of who wielded the weapon rather than the weapon itself."
"Look there Rardi, one of the Gnomes from one of the smithies, by the table there. I believe his name was Threan, pleasant man to talk to. We should talk with him, at least to make us look social."
He points towards the Gnomish mage by the banquet table.
"I was under the same impression as you for the weapon, actually. I dun think it has ta be magical but moreover a very powerful person weilding a normal blade could accomplish such a feat. Flippin Ogres n Giants could of done it, for instance."
She looks over to the gnome then back to Archedius. "I'll go with ya an meet this gnome. I still think they'd look nicer if they grew beards" and she laughs at her joke before standing. Then before going to the gnome she adds "Ye should know me by now. I dinna care if I'm antisocial or not, heh."
She follows Archedius to the gnome and awaits introductions.
"Excuse me, Threan correct? Archedius, I met you in your shop earlier. I thought I would greet you and introduce you to a friend of mine. This is Rardi, a priestess of Lathander"