| Welcome to Darkest Web: A Black Jewels Trilogy RPG. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| a tango with .forks.; *Black, Belladonna, Tynsdale and Court* | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 11 2007, 05:40 PM (731 Views) | |
| Rhydra Celestine | Sep 11 2007, 05:40 PM Post #1 |
![]()
Black Widow Queen
![]()
|
Rhydra was more excited than she had been in months. Symon had seemed uncharacteristically annoyed with her sudden invitation to Prince Black, and that had only made the rash move more exciting. Once that had returned to the Celestine manor, which resided on a hill that overlooked the Palisade and the capitol city of Tajrana, she had gone to her room to prepare for dinner. Once she was tucked away in her suite of rooms, Symon had decided that it was time to prepare the dining room. Why Symon had been so upset with Rhydra’s sudden invitation to Gabriel Black on this night had been the fact that he had intended to introduce Rhydra to a trio of suitors he had hand picked himself. They were the cream of the crop from the aristo society in Nharkhava and they were the best candidates, in Symon’s mind, to be her consort. In that effect, Symon was not stupid enough to actually admit to Rhydra that they were auditioning for a place in her bed, but he had fibbed and said that they were looking for a place in Court. They had wanted to round out their education with an informative look into Court life in Nharkhava and learn from a woman who had brought it back from the brink. Yes, he had been quite pleased with that wording. Rhydra had seemed to like it to as it played to her ego and sense of pride about her Territory and all that she was doing for it. He had convinced her to eat in the formal dining hall this evening, even before she invited Gabriel to join them, in hopes that introducing her to a couple more men would seem formal and distant and she would be less likely to hate them right off. Symon knew that his Queen had a difficult time with intimacy and for the sake of his Queen he wasn’t going to push it. Though the dinner would be taking place in formal dining hall he had had the servants remove the overly large formal dining table that seated thirty people comfortably in exchange for a round table that seated ten comfortably. At least in this instance they would all be far enough away for Rhydra to feel comfortable but not far enough away for the suitors to loose interest. Symon feared that most of all. He knew his Queen was an icy woman to warm up to, but hopefully her appearance and the lure of her power would be enough to ensure one of the suitors remained interested. Symon was truly just hoping for a successful coupling to produce a child, and in his desperation for Rhydra to conceive an heir had really forgotten about what would happen after she and one of his chosen suitors bedded and where the suitor would go from there. He wanted his plan to flow smoothly and in order to do so he needed to be rid of Gabriel Black. He oversaw the servants setting up the round table and instructed that the floral centerpiece be removed for something much less decorative. He wanted Rhydra to be able to see the suitors and not hide behind the rose and orchid centerpiece that usually adorned her table. He ordered the sconces to be dimmed and the very best china and cutlery to be laid out. He enjoyed the formal dining room as the lush red carpet and red walls lined with gold filigree made the room feel more warm and inviting while still upholding its elegance. He clapped his hands when the room was finally finished in excitement. Hopefully his plans would go off without a hitch tonight and perhaps later this week he wouldn’t need to worry about Rhydra’s lineage continuing to rule Nharkhava as she would have an heir. He knew that he was thinking about this problem as more of a means to an end, but he had long reconciled his feelings about that. He had given Rhydra six years to figure out how she felt about men and men in her bed, and she still had not come to a conclusion that pleased him so he decided that he was going to take it into his own hands. The only thing he worried about his night was for Rhydra to come down the stairs realized that there were men she didn’t know attending their supposedly “private” dinner for the Court and decide to retire without meeting any of them. He knew it was underhanded to not mention the fact that these men were coming, but he would face her wrath later. He hurried to dress before the men arrived and before Rhydra was ready in order to be beside her when he presented each of his candidates to her. They had been warned about the Queen’s temper when things seemed out of her control, and they had been adequately prepared. Symon hadn’t gone into much detail about Rhydra’s control issues or superiority complex as he thought they wouldn’t be interested as much if they realized the baggage the were now intending to woo. Rhydra descended the stairs in a red dress she had never truly had an occasion to wear. It was a tight corseted top that made her waist seem even more curvaceous and small than normal and highlighted how soft her chest was. It had no straps and so her skin appeared to have a smooth Irish coffee color. Her skirts were satin and fell in great folds around her legs and moved with a quiet whoosh. She had styled her deep chestnut hair in a cascading style with curls falling around her shoulders and she had opted to wear her Red Jewel as it added to the appeal of her red dress. Her deep brown eyes were lined with kohl and she actually smiled as Symon greeted her at the end of the stairs. “Ready for a most excellent dinner, m’lady?” he questioned as he looked her up and down. She had never dressed for a private dinner with the Court in such a way and he knew that his suitors had better outshine this Gabriel Black tonight. “Allow me to escort the most beautiful lady to the dining hall, most everyone is already there.” |
![]() |
|
| Marrius Tynsdale | Sep 11 2007, 08:29 PM Post #2 |
![]()
Warlord Prince
![]()
|
He walked up the stairs with his heavy-lidded bored expression that seemed his calling card. He always moved slowly giving the impression nothing could hurry him, and frankly nothing had to this point. He didn’t put his hands in his pockets as so many did, the lone distinction between his silky court manner and that of so many others. His hands were rarely still, always moving with a slow sensuous grace as if all Marrius wanted was to place his beautiful hands on a woman’s body and caress. They did have an enchanting quality, mesmerizing some women as one would slowly graze the other then a finger to his exquisite jaw line as the other deftly gestured to emphasize a point. As he ascended the stairs to the manor one of those same hands casually brushed a crease out of his black perfectly tailored slacks. Perfectly meant just a little tight to emphasize his long lean legs, and perfectly shaped rear. The other held his jacket casually slung over his shoulder, instead of covering the white silk shirt underneath. He didn’t like white and preferred color in his shirt, especially red, but this was a formal dinner and not a salon gathering. Even so the shirt fitted nicely over his well formed chest and arms, while accepting his narrow waist. He would not wear the formal jacket though, formal or no. The beginnings of his little rebellion, hinting at the bad boy reputation he enjoyed. His slow approach was not simply practiced for effect, he truly was a little bored and not looking forward to competing for this queen with two other warlord princes. He knew he was better than them so why all the production. He really didn’t know why they didn’t send them on their way and let him set to business wooing the queen. Could they compare with his lineage? The Tynsdales were fabulously wealthy and the oldest and most prestigious family in all of Nharkhava. At least that is what he thought, though the Celestine family could put up a family tree unrivaled in the territory. Marrius would brush it off as the odd preference for queens to rule over warlord princes, always implying he would prefer the men to rule. And here he was crawling up the stairs to Celestine manor to grovel before a queen to beg her hand. The only thing that kept him moving up the stairs to the door was the prospect of taking Rhydra in his hands and molding her to what he wanted, a compliant queen that would step aside clearing his way to power. Upon reaching the door he managed to rap the door with a knock that held all of his arrogance and boredom, slow in rhythm and just loud enough to not be called weak. When the butler opened the door, Marrius had his back to the door, arms easily crossed over his chest. He slowly turned as the butler made his inquiry, never once speaking to the butler. He gave the butler a scathing look, full of his irritation over having been made to wait this long. It didn’t matter that the only way the butler could have been faster would have required him to be prescient. Marrius didn’t even look at the interior decoration, his half lidded eyes staring forward as if hoping for something, anything to spark some interest for him. This was his game and he was playing even before the queen appeared. All of the servants would see his disinterest and gossip, slowly building into a mystery. What is it that could interest the beautiful Marrius? One could look at the titles of the guests and figure out what it was. The woman with the better title and the most money, at this gathering it was Rhydra. He would appear completely bored then when the time was right his features would light with interest clearly directed at Rhydra. It was an old game but still very effective. It is hard to resist the pull on the ego that says you, only you, have something to interest this beautiful man. He nearly smiled hearing the servants already whispering and scampering away. He gave another scathing look at the Butler when directed to a chair at the circular table. ‘This should be interesting’ he thought. Already figuring how ensure every eye was drawn to him, where he would cast his bored gaze, and some scenarios where he would ‘shine his interest’ for his queen. He only cared about where the queen would sit. The rest? They were already dismissed. He took his seat, pushed it back to allow him to cross his long legs, crossed his hands over his knee, and slipped into his affected bored slight slouch. For the most part he didn’t touch the table or anything on it as if not wanting to taint himself. Every now and then he would lift a piece of silverware or china, inspect it, frown looking more bored, return it and go back to his studied boredom. |
![]() |
|
| Gabriel Black | Sep 12 2007, 01:09 AM Post #3 |
|
Warlord Prince
![]()
|
He'd managed to find Rous and one of the maids after his little encounter with the Headmaster of MeadowBrook. Still quite aggitated with the conversation he had lashed out unintentionally to his Butler and his maid. Apologetically, he'd managed to gain their forgiveness as well as their assistance with his dress for the evening. There was some argument over whether the Warlord Prince should dress in his formal military dress, or if he should present himself as an able noble, which he could very well do. He conceded to the maids suggestion of nobility, her thoughts being 'a warrior ye maybe, my Lord. But you've got a kinder heart'. Though it hurt to hear her say that, he decided she was right. Leaving the manor dressed in a pristine black velvet suit, accentuated at the cuffs and the neck with emerald embroidery, he looked every part the noble that his father and mother had been. His shirt was the deepest of emeralds and could just be made out at the ends of his coat sleeves. A simple black tie adorned his chest, with a magnificent emerald placed carefully in the center, mimicking the shimmer of the jewel on his bracelet. "Thank you, Melendis." he managed as he checked himself over in the large mirror adjacent to his bed. With a curtsy she shooed him out of the house and to his carriage, which Rous had brought for him. It was a brief ride, but one of the longest he'd ever had. A mixture of fear, excitement and sadness wrestled in his mind over dominance. Pulling infront of the manor, Gabriel had to steel his will against his overwhelming need to flee. For as much as he had looked forward to this dinner with the giddyness of a schoolboy, he was now facing the place he had told Popovich he'd destroy. The door to the carriage opend and Rous stood there with the trace of a smile on his face. "Enjoy yerself master. Even the darkest nights still have the moon to shine some light." muttered the old man as he closed the door behind Gabriel. The words gave some comfort, but not enough to overcome the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He knocked on the door twice, with as much force as he dared without hurting himself and waited patiently. When the door finally opend he gave a soft smile to the old Butler who greeted him. "Good evening, sir?" asked the old man, inquiring as to who this unannounced man was. "Oh, forgive me. I am Warlord Prince Gabriel Black, I believe the Queen is waiting for me?". At that the old mans face seem to lighten a bit with a glimmer of happines. "Ah yes, the Steward had mentioned your arrival. Shall I show you to the table? There is another here already." Another? Thought Gabriel as he followed the man into the Manor and into the room where they would be dining. True to his word, there was a man sitting there looking utterly bored with either himself or the room he was in. By the dress and the practiced bored look on his face, Gabriel half assumed him to be some aristocrat. An agent of Popovich? No, he admitted. Popovich had been just as shocked as he had to discover that he would be at dinner here this evening. The man gave the faintest impression of a glance in his direction, and remembering Protocol spoke to the man. "Good evening, sir. I am Warlord Prince Gabriel Black. You are?" he asked, taking his seat at the twelve o'clock position, back to the wall in order to take the entire room in. |
![]() |
|
| Belladonna Regulus | Sep 12 2007, 08:00 PM Post #4 |
![]()
Healer
![]()
|
Belladonna half expected that she'd lose her way around the manor and be late to the formal dinner as a result. Having just arrived a couple days before, she had not yet had a chance to go into town for a new dress, so she wore one of her old ones. Luckily, it was still in style and fit just well enough to not look too small. It must have been a couple years old, however, she couldn't remember the last time she'd worn it. Was it at the Summer Solstice Ball? That seemed so long ago now. The gown was gold satin, the corset-bodice embroidered in shimmery gold threads and accented in cream and black. The sleeves fell off her shoulders and the V-neckline rode low, not that this particularly mattered, as she had very little in the way of a chest to show off. Her only piece of jewelry was her Rose Jewel, which was inset into a diamond shaped pendant that seemed to be pinched off along the longer edges and was attached to a chain that looped around her neck three times, creating a tiered effect. For once, she'd also pulled her hair back into a messy bun that sat at the base of her neck, so that the tips of her hair created a spiky halo around it, and her bangs were held in place by small diamond-studded barrettes. Overall, she looked elegant, but not overdone, as many Aristo women were prone to looking. Even all put-together though, she looked more like a commoner playing dress-up than an Aristo playing her role. She entered the formal dining hall timidly, her heeled shoes clicking on the tile floors quietly as she moved. She was surprised to see she wasn't the last one to enter. Quite the opposite in fact. There was hardly anybody there except for the two men who were already seated. Two Warlord Princes. One a Summer-Sky, and the other she couldn't tell. His Jewel eclipsed hers. She got the fleeting feeling that told her to dart back into the corridor before they noticed her and wait for somebody familiar to accompany her in...However, there really wasn't anybody familiar here yet. She wavered back and forth on her feet, trying to steel her nerve. She could do this, she told herself. Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the room and made a beeline for a seat that was a careful distance from both of them. "Good evening, Princes," she said quietly as she slipped into her seat, hoping their responses would not require answers. She didn't think that would be a problem with the Summer-Sky. He looked positively bored out of his skull, but she'd been around Aristo's enough to know the look was just an act and would probably just ignore her anyway. The other though, she wasn't so sure.... |
![]() |
|
| Marrius Tynsdale | Sep 12 2007, 11:05 PM Post #5 |
![]()
Warlord Prince
![]()
|
(OOC: i'm not completly in sequence for posting. However, i thought that since marrius doesn't really do anything other than give atmosphere it would be fine to just pop in and post out of sequence here and there. If it bothers anyone i will edit or delete.) Marrius briefly glanced at the warlord prince that entered and finding nothing of interest went back to being bored. Jewel strength didn’t matter in these games, nor skill in arms. The one that entered appeared to be a fighter. To a man Marrius, and most of the women he had pursued, had found the type tedious at best and more often than not absolutely odious. He had yet to be bested in his games by any of his sort. Marrius was returning his gaze to the carving on the wall behind the table that was minutely interesting when the warlord prince spoke to him. He hadn’t expected this man to address him, but hid all evidence of surprise, slowly bringing his gaze to rest on Gabriel just long enough to raise an eyebrow and say “Marrius”, then again turning his attention back to the carving. He was waiting for the expected outburst from Gabriel, when a young woman entered. Sighing in his boredom he flicked something off his slacks and shifted his seating, giving the new comer a better view of his compelling profile. She also addressed him. ‘Mother night the interminable boredom of protocol’ he thought. He gave her a brief nod and letting some of the low purring into his voice that had always excited the women he was with, filled hints of seduction and sensuality. “Good evening” No sooner had he offered this little promise than it was taken away again as he returned to his bored perusal of the carving. He didn’t move at all in his boredom, simply sitting in his chair like a statue. Everything about him suggested that nothing yet had piqued his interest. |
![]() |
|
| Rhydra Celestine | Sep 13 2007, 01:44 AM Post #6 |
![]()
Black Widow Queen
![]()
|
[This post introduces Valerius Barclay and Reginald Aquinas. Feel free to include them in your posts as they are NPC's to be PLAYED with in this section of the plot! The more fun the better! For a more complete look each has a bio posted in the NPC registration section.] The coach ride to Celestine manor was bumpy and jostling, which annoyed Valerius greatly as his gold-rimmed spectacles kept vibrating off his hawkish nose. Each turn of the coach down a cobble stone street rumbled the through them like an earthquake. Valerius kept having to grab his spectacles before they leapt off his face and his book jiggled so much the words were nearly unreadable. Disgusted, he closed his book with a loud thump and pulled off his spectacles in order to rub the bridge of his nose. His dark eyes squinted in the dark interior of the cab to see his coach mate. HE was not sure of his name, but the man looked familiar. Valerius couldn’t exactly place where he had seen him. Some aristo ball perhaps? Either way Valerius had deduced that he was the other suitor that Symon Griswold, Steward to the Queen of Nharkhava, had informed him he would be competing with. It was like some grand game of chess, but the prize was much better than a simple checkmate. He was quite sure that if they were to be rated simply on their genetics that he himself had much more to give than his stout friend who sat silently across the way distracted by the boring countryside. “I’ll make the assumption with great certainty that you are my rival this night?” inquired Valerius in a clipped tone. He was not in the business of making friends, and he had his eye on the prize. Not only would he have a beautiful woman beneath him he would also be the envy of nearly all the aristo men who had scoffed at his studies. He would be the most privileged in Nharkhava as well as the most brilliant. Perhaps with his fortune he would head an academy for studies that was better than that crummy Meadowbrook. The students who graduated from that school could hardly compare to his intellect and he wanted a challenge. Perhaps he would find it tonight. Reginald, Reg to his friends (of which he tried to make everyone) looked up at the sound of Valerius’s voice. He really was not sure of why the man sounded so hostile right off the bat. Reg had no reason to argue or lie, and he didn’t want this experience to make anyone not like him. He had truly only gone along with the Steward of Nharkhava’s plan because his aunt wanted him to. She was a pushy woman, and yet he found himself unable to do anything but please her. He clasped his hands over his waist and looked Valerius up and down for a moment before answering. “Perhaps, but then again we could be after very different prizes.” Valerius scoffed at that comment. What a dolt. The prize at hand was the title of consort to the Territory Queen. What other prize would there be? His eyes narrowed at Reg wondering if Symon had told him something more than what he had heard. “What do you mean?” he pushed as he replaced his spectacles on his nose and shifted them to look at the man across the way. Reg shrugged and continued to look out the window. “Well, what is it you seek out of this night? If it is the bed of the Queen Celestine, I think that you will be disappointed. However, if your prize is a good first step in that direction then I suppose we would have the same prize in mind. You were told just as well as I was told what she is like. No matter how skilled you are in the art of courting a woman…” Reg paused, as he looked Valerius over clearing indicating that he didn’t think Valerius had much experience in that field. “I imagine that Rhydra Celestine will be the hardest catch yet, but if you think you can do it. Good for you.” Valerius was both angry and somewhat appreciative of the man in front of him. He was angry that the man had insulted his skills and intelligence, but also appreciative that he was smarter than he looked. He said nothing in return and decided that he would admire the unchanging countryside as his coach mate had done earlier. “You have very nice glasses,” offered Reg trying to be friendly and make small talk. “They are spectacles,” snapped Valerius as he took them off his nose and wiped them on the cuff of his formal dress coat. Reg shrugged and shifted in his seat hoping the uncomfortable ride would end soon. Valerius was not very friendly even when Reg tried and so he worried that this dinner would be a very trying evening of him not getting anywhere, but his aunt wanted him to bring home the title of consort and so he would try his best. The coach rounded the last corner and drew up to the front of the Celestine Manor with a jerky halt. Valerius pushed his way out and drew a clammy hand through his unruly hair in an effort to tame it and Reg stepped out cracking his neck as he did so. Valerius gave him a disgusted look before stepping quickly toward the front door. The butler, Royce, answered the door promptly as he needed to rush the last two suitors into the formal dining room before Rhydra herself entered. He had been briefed by Symon as to what was happening tonight and was prepared to show the numerous men to where the dinner was taking place. The pair followed quietly behind the butler admiring the décor and elegance that surrounded them. They entered the dining room where three other people had already taken seats. Reg, always one to make friends, gave a bright smile and introduced himself. “Princes and Lady, I am Reg Aquinas, pleased to be dining with you this evening.” His eyes were drawn to Belladonna. Was this Rhydra Celestine? He had not seen his Queen as many had not seen her. She was always too busy to attend the great balls of Nharkhava or to be seen in parades on the Nharkhavan holidays. He had thought he’d glimpsed her in the parade on Winsol, but he was never too sure. Surely she must be Rhydra, as he did not expect another woman to attend a dinner such as this. He took a seat next to her and gave her a winning smile. “Hello m’lady, let me start by thanking you for inviting me to this dinner.” Valerius scoffed at Reg’s immediate ingratiation and turned to the Princes nodding but ignored the woman as he knew who Rhydra Celestine was and he had made it a point to study her likes and dislikes before coming to this dinner. He was treating this like an exam - the one who studied the most got the best grade. He took a seat between Marrius and Gabriel so that there were only two more seats to the left of Gabriel. Symon wrapped his arm with Rhydra’s and escorted her to the formal dining room, as they were the last to arrive. She had entered the room with a delighted smile on her face, but with each step into the room and with each face she didn’t know that smile dimmed until she was left with simply a thin line. She would speak to Symon about this later. “Allow me to introduce, Rhydra Celestine Queen of Nharkhava,” began Symon smoothly before Rhydra allowed her temper to flare and she did something rash. “He motioned to the three men of whom Rhydra did not know and added quickly, “The men who are going to be spending some time at Court, m’lady, remember?” She had conceded to let them learn mostly because it had played to her ego, but now she was a bit concerned. She had wanted more warning than this, but that would be something to discuss with Symon later when she could lock the door with her Red Jewel and scream at him until his ears bled. “Good evening Princes,” she said softly with a nod to each. Her eyes then moved to Belladonna of whom she gave a small smile, “I’m glad you could join us, Belladonna.” Her eyes flicked to Gabriel of who was the one she had wanted to see the most. She admired his emerald colored shirt and black velvet suit. He appeared as cultured as the men who sat around the table who were obviously aristos. “Good evening, Prince Black.” She took her seat, which happened to be next to Gabriel, and allowed Symon a seat next to Belladonna. She wanted the Healer to feel comfortable and it was best to let the soothing presence of Symon do that then the nearly contained anger of her Queen sitting next to her do it. She was quite certain that the men at the table (as nearly all of them were Warlord Princes) could feel the waves of annoyance and anger flowing from her. She looked to each face, her deep chocolate eyes narrowing a bit as she examined them – just long enough to not be considered staring. “I’ve been introduced, but would any of you like to introduce yourselves?” This would be a most interesting night. |
![]() |
|
| Gabriel Black | Sep 14 2007, 02:52 AM Post #7 |
|
Warlord Prince
![]()
|
By the mans almost unresponsive muttering of his name, Gabriels assumption had been correct. If he had been asked to dine with other such aristo swine, then so be it, he'd been asked by the Queen herself, unlike this one who had probably been asked and persuaded by Rhydras Steward, Symon. This, Marrius, had probably thought Gabriel to explode in outrage at his disrespect, instead however, Gabriel remained silent. He'd dealt with Aristos before, cunning ones that had thought to weaken his own strength in Governing Tarjana, and had each in turn outlasted and outwitted them. That he was a soldier first and foremost, none questioned, but they would never guess the cunning, cultured and well versed aristo that he had taught himself to be as well. As he disengaged his stare from the man infront of him he noticed, at the same time as Marrius had, the woman who had entered the dining hall. In a few moments he had deduced her Jewel but not her purpose for being here. He gave her a soft and comforting smile, hopefully conveying that she was not alone in being amongst those who thought higher of themselves than their rumps would permit. "Good Evening, my lady." he managed as the woman sat down, as he noticed, a careful distance between himself and Marrius. "Seems this evening is full of surprises..." he mentioned catching her eye and nodding toward the bemused Marrius. True to his words two more Warlord Princes arrived. One, from the looks of it, calculating every inch of space and quite possibly adding up something else in his mind about each person that now occupied the room. The other, whether genuine or not, bounded about the small group introducing himself. "The pleasure, I'm sure, is all ours..ah..Reg, was it?" he said as the man came and shook his hand. When Reg sat next to Belladonna, Gabriel fought with all his nerve not to burst out in laughter in the misinterpretation that had transpired. He wanted to correct him, but had assumed that once Rhydra had made her appearance, the embarassment would suffice. He noticed the other, almost seeing the calculations buzzing about his mind, finally deciding that sitting between himself and Marrius to be the best possible solution. Which suited Gabriel just as well, he didn't think that the open space between himself and Marrius would have ended with gentlemanly results. He sat there a moment longer. Was this why Symon had been so disgruntled with his sudden interruption this afternoon? Was the man hoping to fill the Court with such as these? Well, thought Gabriel, the man had more contacts as well as better knowledge of these men. He would not pass judgement as yet on any of them, though, perhaps a little on Marrius. There was collective silence as they heard the footsteps that preceded the Queen and her Steward.“Allow me to introduce, Rhydra Celestine Queen of Nharkhava,” spoke the smooth voice of Symon Griswald. As the words spoke, Gabriel could not help himself and felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She looked absolutely magnificent. She had looked breathtakingly beautiful at the Palisade, but now, now she looked as regal as her forebearers, yet more beautiful than any painting he could have ever remembered seeing. Standing he notices something had gone wrong. The smile that had brightend the room was now quickly failing with every glance at unfamiliar faces. Addressing Belladonna he saw that she brightend up, and when she looked at him her eyes also seemed to lighten, kinder than what they had been when she sat down."Good evening, Prince Black. slid the smooth velvet that he had come to associate as her voice. He had not expected to be addressed personally, not amongst aristo's who had probably had more to offer than the Province ruler from her own region. However, he took it in stride and spoke carefully low enough to sound genuine, but loud enough to answer the unannounced challenge issued by the rest of the Princes gathered. "Good evening, my Queen." he spoke as he met and held her eye contact for more than a moment. If these Princes thought to woo his Queen easily, he knew different. He may not have been from the greatest stock, or the richest, or even the brightest. But he knew damn well that none of these men had ever bled for her. More so, he knew that none of them would be willing to bleed again if it meant to keep her safe. With the hint of a smile he let her gaze go as he motioned for a servant to bring him some wine. He would let one them start, to see just who was sitting at this table this night. |
![]() |
|
| Belladonna Regulus | Sep 17 2007, 03:45 AM Post #8 |
![]()
Healer
![]()
|
As she had thought, she got not much of a response from the Summer-Sky Jeweled Warlord Prince except the expected court reply. She didn't meet his eyes as she smoothed her gown over her legs. At the other man's reply though, she spared him a warm smile and a giggle when he gestured towards their surly companion. She quickly regained her composure though, and nervously fiddled with the edge of her napkin. Yes, it would be a night of surprises indeed. She hadn't exactly been filled in on the purpose of this dinner either, but it looked like something that wouldn't go over well with the Queen. She had learned quickly enough that she had a quick temper. She couldn't help but look up curiously when two more men entered. Were all of tonight's guests going to be men? The thought slightly scared her. She couldn't remember Symon saying anything about the purpose of this event, but then again, the past couple of days had been very long, very tiring, and it had taken a lot of energy and concentration to get used to the way things worked around the place. And this was not even mentioning her new position as the Court Healer. Her eyes widened slightly when one of them - Reg, he had said his name was - broke off to sit next to her, throwing her a smile that she wasn't altogether sure was supposed to be aimed at her. “Hello m’lady, let me start by thanking you for inviting me to this dinner.” She gaped at him for a moment. No, she was definitely not the one he thought she was. He thought she was Rhydra! It was another moment before she found her voice again. "I-I'm not --" She was saved when Symon entered, escorting the Queen. Heaving a sigh of relief, she gave them both a beaming smile and nodded politely to Rhydra's greeting. It was good to see faces that were more familiar than those that were around her at the moment. As the Queen and Symon took their seats though, she could sense the underlying anger that lay just under Rhydra's exterior appearance. She gave Symon a questioning look before she looked past him at the Queen and shivered slightly. It was unnerving, but she knew the anger was not directed at her, so she tried to not let it bother her - even when those deep brown eyes roved over her to look at the man sitting next to her. She threw a glance across the table at the man who'd predicted an evening of surprises - the one who'd Rhydra had addressed as Prince Black - and gave him another shaky smile. He seemed to have escaped the Queen's wrath as well. |
![]() |
|
| Xane Ocventay | Sep 17 2007, 04:03 AM Post #9 |
|
Warlord
![]()
|
((Ooc: Hope this isn't too much of a monkey wrench. Just got this fellow up and running today. Lala said I could hop in so... here goes nothing.)) A hired carriage ride, a long walk up to the manor door, and a sharp knock later, Xane was giving the butler of this Queen’s household a lopsided grin. “I hope I’m not too late.” He said, injecting as much confidence into the words as he could. “I was invited for dinner…” Seeing no-one besides servants, he continued with a wry tone. “I trust that this is the right Celestine manor, where the Queen of Nharkhava resides?” After some assurance that this was indeed the right place, Xane nodded, absently adjusting the collar on his jacket. He was dressed up, for him, in a neatly pressed red shirt and dark slacks with a matching jacket. Even his shoes were polished, which was rare in itself. He stepped inside, running a hand over his short hair in an unconscious nervous gesture. This place was fancier than any manor he’d been in before. Aristos. He hadn’t had much experience with aristos. The extent of his knowledge began and ended with the various social circles he’d managed to gain entry to while traveling the last couple of decades. Needless to say, they weren’t the upper crust of any society. An unknown Warlord traveling through Kaeleer wasn’t usually invited to fancy dinners anywhere like this. Xane followed the butler into the dining room where he brought himself up short to study those already inside. A quick glance around the room told him that he was definitely the country bumpkin at this dinner. A visiting Warlord with just enough polish to seem a distant aristo, he somehow had caught the eye of the Steward of the court. It’s not that he’d lied to make himself seem like a visiting aristo. Truth be told, he just hadn’t dissuaded the notion. He hoped the man hadn’t forgotten all about him. Those Warlord Princes gave the Steward’s story credence, though, especially that bored-looking fellow and the bespectacled aristo. Seems he’d be acting the foil, tonight. With his relative youth and seeming unpolished attitude he was going to make those others look like shiny trinkets perfect for a Queen. So much for his chances and getting a good look at the women they were competing for, she seemed like someone he wouldn’t mind getting close to. She was old enough, at least. He’s arrived just in time for the Queen to give her greetings to a man in velvet. When she sat and spoke, Xane stepped fully inside and took his cue. “Xane Ocventay. At your service.” He tossed off a good-natured, lazy salute and flashed his roguish smile at both of the females at the table. Seemed the Queen was ‘loving’ the evening already, from the not-so-muted irritation rolling off of her. Apparently, someone hadn’t informed her of company. |
![]() |
|
| Marrius Tynsdale | Sep 17 2007, 09:44 PM Post #10 |
![]()
Warlord Prince
![]()
|
As the two new men entered Marrius could barely be bothered to heave sigh, one look at them and he was insulted, at least this black character was something of a challenge. Marrius completely ignored them when they offered their pleasantries. It was in a way a measure of the little respect her held for Gabriel and the witch. There was however a sparkle of amusement in his dark eyes when one of them approached the witch as if she were the queen. However, it was brief and he was soon back to contemplating the carving. It was unfathomable that the one with spectacles choose to sit near him. The slight shift in his body position away from him as much an excuse to ripple the sleek muscles under his shirt for the witch as a non-verbal slight to the buffoon sitting near him. There was the slightest hint of a scowl on his face before deigning to scan the room in an utterly bored manner. Once more checking on the attendees to see if he need alter his first impressions in anyway. ‘Of course not. What an utter waste of effort’ he thought. He might as well have said it, for no one could mistake the contempt pouring from him for the men in the room or grudging acceptance of the witch. The queen’s entrance was a joy. A hint of a smile curled on corner of his perfect red lips seeing her anger build ‘Finally someone interesting’. He casually crossed his arms over his chest as she approached the table. His own anger boiled a bit when she included him in a common address with the rest of the flotsam that had washed into her hall. The anger flickered briefly in his dark eyes as he gave a perfunctory nod in answer to hers. He was considering his response when he noticed the queen’s mood change. That she addressed the witch with more pleasure than the rest of them said much. However, the obvious pleasure in her upon seeing Gabriel was a slap in the face. Confidence pulsed from this Gabriel with the queen’s attention, each wave adding to his own ire. There was nothing any of these others could offer her that he couldn’t match ten-fold, and he could offer something none of them could, a cessation of the bandit attacks that plagued her precious trade routes. Even in his anger he noted the witch steal a glance at Gabriel, and his eyes narrowed. This was a set up. Symon would pay for this insult. The Tynsdales were not to be trifled with in this manner. He cast one smoldering look at Symon before his aristo mask feel back in place. He had a plan for the evening. He was bored again but mixed in a touch of his anger to match the queens, indicating a similar distaste for the proceedings. Marrius actually cocked his head to a side when Xane burst in, raised an eyebrow and returned his Xane’s lazy salute with his own dismissive one, full of his derision, then shacking his head as if to console himself over the evening’s lack of anything really interesting. When a server brought the wine for the first course to be served he simply sniffed his nose in rejection. He treated the first course no better, spearing the pate with a fork pulling it apart, then looked at Symon with utter dissatisfaction and sneered. “Haven’t we moved on from pate?” He didn’t even look at the little crustini offered to spread the pate upon, and placed his fork down in a refusal to do anything else with the mushed liver. He didn’t look at anyone, not even the queen, as he returned to his bored look. (No problem jump right in. Marrius will looooove him :) ) |
![]() |
|
| Rhydra Celestine | Sep 18 2007, 05:34 PM Post #11 |
![]()
Black Widow Queen
![]()
|
[OOC: He seems to fit in perfectly! Don’t worry about it. There always needs to be someone to arrive fashionably late to dinner parties, or else there would be no one to whisper about when they go to the bathroom! ^_~] Rhydra’s eyes scanned over the men present at the table other than Gabriel since she already knew his standing in society since she had given it to him before she had actually known the man. In essence, she had simply signed a paper that extended his ownership of the provincial rulers’ title to pass through the family. She had expected it to pass from father to daughter in order to have a Queen at the head, but it did not bother her at the time to allow a man to guide the Desynne Province either. It needed a firm hand, and Rhydra imagined that Gabriel was just the man to do it – now that she had met him. She had been left wondering why a seat was left empty, but now it was clear and her deep chocolate eyes turned toward the fellow entering and answering her first question. Xane Ocventay. It was an exotic name that Rhydra silently rolled over her tongue. He looked roguish and carefree and though his mere presence should have brought anger to her it instead brought a distracted smile with his little salute. His sense of humor was charming and she decided that she wouldn’t question his whereabouts in order to be graced with more of his sense of humor throughout the dinner. She also knew that her lack of anger toward Xane would cause Symon’s mind to spin in a tizzy as he tried to figure out her ebbing and flowing moods. The other men at the table were unknown to her. They hadn’t yet taken the time to introduce themselves, and so she was left to wonder about their reasons of being here. The one near Bella who seemed to have a permanent blush and a stocky figure did not really concern Rhydra. He seemed to be the malleable type which was perfect for Courts and so his story for inviting members to learn Court manners and jobs seemed plausible with that one. The bespectacled man sitting between Gabriel and another aristo she didn’t know caused her concern though. He did not seem to fit sitting in on a Court dinner and his eyes were just a little too cunning and a little to calculative for Rhydra’s taste. The man sitting in front of her though caused her some worrisome speculation. He seemed extremely bored to be here and was even playing with his pate and crustini as if such fine food were mere play things for a man of his breeding. She raised an eyebrow at him for a moment and then turned to look at Symon. Since she was going to get no straight answer from Symon as to their reason for joining her dinner this evening she decided to be frank. “I understand you are going to be spending some time in my Court… On behalf of myself, my Steward and my Court Healer,” she said motioning to each of her respective members of her established court. She continued without hesitation. “I extend you a warm welcome. In spirit of learning, won’t you tell me what you hope to accomplish here?” Symon seemed to choke a little on his crustini and took a deep gulp of his wine as his own brown eyes tried to convey caution to the men he had gathered at the table. He had talked with each one briefly about how to go about pointed questions such as these. He had told them that he would try to avoid them for the men gathered, but he could not promise to dismiss all of them. When Symon opened his mouth to answer for the collected group Rhydra lifted her hand to silence him. “I do not think this is an answer for you, Symon, as you are here as my Steward. Your position in my Court is not unknown to me.” She suddenly realized that while she had been introduced she had not yet introduced the other members of her Court. “Allow me a quick interruption, but I would not like everyone at the table to not know their neighbors.” She motioned to Symon and said, “Symon Griswold, Steward to the Queen of Nharkhava.” She then motioned to Belladonna and with a small smile introduced her for the first time with her entire title. “Belladonna Regulus, Court Healer to the Queen of Nharkhava.” She had been quite pleased with her pick for her Court Healer. She had barely touched her pate before the plates were removed and replaced with an exotic looking soup dish. They were to have eight courses this night and so the portions were smaller. Rhydra had wanted to have dishes that were different and that used the products she had worked so hard to obtain through her many trade agreements. Little shrimp and other crustaceans floated around in the creamy base of the soup. Spices and flavors not native to Nharkhava graced the dish and made it have a spicy flare. With each sip of the soup, the Queen of Nharkhava settled into a pleasant mood. |
![]() |
|
| Gabriel Black | Sep 20 2007, 02:08 AM Post #12 |
|
Warlord Prince
![]()
|
It wasn't often that he was surprised, more so than, this evening with all these interesting gentlemen. Apart, of course, from the overinflated peacock sitting just a seat away from his left. He had never expected this broad range of personalities and wills to have been sitting around this room, much less with his Queen in the center of it. Though, as he had attempted to guess, perhaps this was precisely why Symon had called these men together, though not with Gabriel in mind, to fill the Queens court. By the anger he felt pouring over all of them, he had assumed rightly that Queen Rhydra had not been too pleased about walking into a room full of unknown men. He was shocked still more when a fourth Prince walked in, one that he had personally not seen in ages. Xane Ocventay. The last he had seen the man he had convinced him to stay for a dinner invite by promising to share his personal collection of hard liquor. Even still, the stay had been good for the both of them. Xane had not known, could not have known, about the predicament with his parents. He had told him that they were ill and enjoying time in a dryer climate further to the south of Nharkhava. With the salute that Xane had extended, he caught his eye and winked. They were going to have a field day with the rest of the Aristo brats that were sitting at the table. Well...maybe just Marrius. He smiled as his Queen took full control of the table and addressed them all. He took a quick glance around and saw Reg still a shade of pink which made him chuckle softly. Velarius was quiet, too quiet for Gabriels liking and gave the man a careful look as if to try and decipher his thoughts. Giving up he saw the look on Symons face as the Queen asked them to speak as to their intentions, it was a mixture of dread and shock. Though, to be fair, she turned and introduced Symon according to his title as well as Belladonna. He gave her an approving nod as she was announced as the Court Healer. Though shy, he felt as though this woman would do well here and perhaps teach his Queen something as well. He heard a clearing of a throat next to him. He looked over with surprise at the man sitting there as he had taken the initiative to respond to the Queens question. "I am Velarius Barclay, Warlord Prince." he began a little shaky, but sounding more confident as he continued to speak. "It would be my pleasure, Queen Rhydra, to assist as best I can. I am well versed in many different Logistical as well as Political avenues regarding trade, and land dealings. I was hoping, with my time here, to learn more and see how the Queen manages to keep Nharkhava beautiful." Looking the man over as he went back to his wine, Gabriel gave a small shrug, seemed that they all had something to prove this night. Though, from the looks Velarius had given the rest of them, this Velarius seemed to think he was about to be invited into Rhydra's bedroom chamber. As Gabriel went to drink some more wine, he heard something that sound distinctly like a disgusted grunt. Taking his drink he turned his head in the direction from where it came and saw the swine like upturned nose of Marrius as the man played with the food infront of him. "Haven't we moved on from pate?" came the haughty voice of the man that Gabriel had already loathed. "Would you like to have something that looks a bit less like what you see in the mirror in the morning? By the smell coming from the kitchens, I'd imagine some pork is on the way." he said with a playful glint in his eyes as he glanced back to the Queen as if inquiring of her. "Though, those of us with manners I would imagine, would not dare to question the course offered by the Queen herself. Esspecially since the food you are being presented with has been taken from the bosom of Nharkhava." he spoke quietly, but with enough heat that it washed over the rest of those gathered. "As well as some.." he spoke as the soup was placed infront of him. "That are a testiment to the work our Queen has put into restoring Nharkhava to an age of Glory. Some respect.." he said, now directly to him. "Would not only be merrited, but demanded here." |
![]() |
|
| Marrius Tynsdale | Sep 23 2007, 06:36 PM Post #13 |
![]()
Warlord Prince
![]()
|
Marrius only looked up in a completely detached manner when the queen asked them to introduce themselves, then gave Symon a dismissive look. There was no attempt to hide his meaning. He asked with his smoldering eyes if it was possible the queen could not know one of the more important members of one of the most influential families in Nharkvana? Was she so completely out of touch? Without waiting for an answer he concluded she was. What’s more she was a figurehead, and likely Symon was pulling the strings. When the queen suggested they would be joining her court, Marrius nearly snorted. Surely this was the evening’s entertainment. A casual, half-lidded glance confirmed his first impression of those gathered. Valerius was nothing more than academic prat, Black next to him a brawler, loud and crude, playing at subtlety. Marrius couldn’t wait to see him do his ‘I’ll defend the queen’s honor’ act. He is certain to be master of the guard the perfect place for a blunt instrument. Across the way was Reg, a buffoon. The healer was fine as healers go, but so timid, one would think the court healer would bring a little something extra to the court. Finally there was Xane, fine for a drink in a tavern, but a court was not a tavern. Why would Symon bring these…people to be in her court? Did he wish to sabotage her? Marrius smirked thinking if he were steward he would have sold tickets to the more worthy aristos in Nharkvava for this was more a cabaret than a court The intrigue only deepened when the queen went off script and silenced Symon in a heated manner when he tried to intervene. The cautious look in Symon’s eyes was almost fearful. Marrius kept his amusement to himself, but now watched the little drama unfold between Queen and steward, the steward looking more and more like a man at the end of his rope. Every now and then he would catch Symon’s eye, and when he did he let his anger show. Symon almost flinched a few times, but held his mask. Marrius was wondering if Symon was yet thinking of how the events of this evening would play with the other aristos in Nharvava. The Tynsdales and not a few other families had avoided Rhydra’s court assuming it would be a temporary one. Marrius was seeing nothing to change that assessment in the room with him. . If Symon had wanted to woo the disgruntled aristo families of Nharkvana he was only succeeding in pushing them further away. A pity really, no one wanted that animal Popovitch to succeed, but the events so far would play well in Popovitch’s plans, and it was never good business to side with the losing cause. Marrius had paid little attention to Symon when he had attempted to ‘coach’ Marrius in Rhydra’s seduction, but now he recalled the conversation in earnest. A predatory smile curled his sensuous too red lips as he did. Thinking of Popovitch and the queen had provided the spark. Had the animal had this queen in his care? Symon had tried to coach them away from certain kinds of behavior in her presence, behaviors that might spark a very bad reaction in someone who had suffered the special pleasures of meadowbrook. There was a way to find out. Before he could plan further the queen interrupted to finish the introductions she had missed earlier. Marrius found her behavior nteresting, far better to have simply continued on like she had meant to leave the gathered men to decide for themselves who Symon and Belladonna were. Marrius had already known of course, it was standard practice to know the doings of queen and her court in his circles. Though it seemed this Black fellow hadn’t known. Mark him down as less informed than he should be, along with the rest. It was clear now that Gabriel and Xane knew eachother prior to this evening’s theater (that was how he referred to the gathering now). Of course they would know eachother. Another predatory smile spread across his perfect lips and even widened as the prat Valerius gave his little speech. ‘Mother night! It’s worse than I thought The man (that was generous) had declared before all of them that he knew nothing. One would think you could declare that you had more to offer than the attentions of a good student.’ He found his own running commentary on the evening’s events was amusing as always. He didn’t even look at Gabriel when the oaf staggered to his feet and tripped over his little slight of his better, waiting for him to give full vent to his long-winded speech. Marrius responded without hesitation in an even, bored, but still oh so velvety voice, rich with honeyed seduction even in this sort of confrontation. There wasn’t one rough edge as he countered “If I understand you correctly you suggest I bear a resemblance to the more cultured of two foods? I am flattered. But if I may be so bold? By differentiating yourself from me in that manner, you seem to leave the implication that the pork would more resemble you. Would that be in appearance or in aroma….both? Perhaps you could convey to the rest of us all the ways in which you resemble such a noble and stubbornly protective animal, known far and wide for its rutting behavior.” This was his first little poke to see how the queen would react. He had heard Popovitch allude to some of his more colorful activities at Meadowbrook as rutting. Keeping an eye on Symon and the queen and ignoring again the rest of the table, he sampled the soup, and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in interest. There were spices in it that he had never sampled before in Nharvana nor in his time in Goth or Amdarah. His first impression was that they were unique in all of Kaeleer. This Gabriel black had blathered on about the meal coming from the bosom of Nharkvana and pork, when this very interesting demonstration of trading potential had been set before him. Marrius remarked after the bit about respect with the same sensual crooning in his voice. “Can respect be demanded? Is that the pork talking? Are you certain this soup, so full of possibilities comes from the ‘bossom’ of Nharvana? The base certainly, but clearly the unique flavoring speaks to much more exotic locales. Since you are the expert why don’t you enlighten us again with your gastronomical expertise.” After sampling the soup some, he sat back in his chair, his look a little less bored as he once again took in Rhydra and Symon. These two were proving to mildly interesting. There was no way at this point he would introduce himself to the queen. Symon should be doing that. A nobleman was announced he didn’t simply offer his name to any that asked. Protocol was binding even to a queen. He would let these others prattle on, finish soup, and watch for anything he might find useful. At some point he would have to have a private talk with Symon. Once finished with his soup, he leaned back again, straightened his slacks, slouched just enough to rest his head lightly on his thumb while his index finger went to his temple his temple, other long fingers curled against his sensual lips. His eyes were finally lit with a bit of interest, a warm glow emanating form their mysterious depths. |
![]() |
|
| Xane Ocventay | Sep 24 2007, 05:19 AM Post #14 |
|
Warlord
![]()
|
Xane didn’t even raise an eyebrow at the bored-looking man’s mocking return of his salute, only noting the contempt and ill grace that rode him like a second skin. Matching his mental image of what Aristo class was like, he wasn’t surprised. It was as if the whole upper crust of society took drawing-room lessons in arrogance. Then again, they took lessons manipulation, as well, as Aristos always wanted their backs scratched. Xane just had to figure out how to get his back scratched in return and they would get along swimmingly. Until then, however, he wouldn’t pass up a chance to ruffle some feathers. Accepting the wine with grace, Xane commented directly to the Queen after the slight to her dishes and Gabriel’s reply. “The pate tastes excellent. Nharkhava’s trade is growing by leaps and bounds.” He made a grand show of enjoying the food, a favor for the small smile he earned from their hostess. Black got a surreptitiously returned wink as Xane began to flirt outrageously with the women he was here to ostensibly woo. Turning his quicksilver rogue’s smile towards the Rhydra, Xane wondered absently if Gabriel would remember their last meeting. The man had been generous enough to offer his liquor cabinet and Xane had somehow ended up confessing his admiration for the young man. Black had grown into his own while Xane watched from afar. A true soldier, and older now than his years told. He hoped the man would forgive him for the shameless behavior Xane planned. “My lovely, dear, Queen Rhydra. I came to this court to set my eyes upon your becoming figure, of course. My awe is only outdone by the pure pleasure your presence brings me. To think I have been deprived of mere glances from your stunning eyes, well – it does not bear thought at all.” He flashed her another grin, then waved away the words as the teasing flattery they were. “No. I’m from Dhemlan and I’ve traveled Kaeleer quite extensively since I left my homeland. I endeavor to stop into Court wherever I am to chat with my betters, hoping some of their wisdom and talent decides to follow me home. I was fortunate enough to run into your Steward while discussing my plight with some acquaintances and he offered a dinner invitation.” Xane, of course, neglected to mention his homeland was in Terrielle. He’d escaped the service fairs, but he didn’t exactly want to advertise that fact. Unabashedly unapologetic for his lateness, Xane turned his attention towards the boxy, muscular man seated by the Court Healer when he spoke. “Reginald Aquinas, Prince, at your service M’lady. Though you may call me ‘Reg.’” To Xane’s surprise, the man seemed to mean every word of it. From his vantage-point, Reg appeared to have somehow attached himself to the Healer, perhaps shying away from the Queen’s anger. It appeared that Reg thought that if he was displeasing her, he’d remove himself as a threat. That didn’t seem a bad plan, if that is what it was. The man echoed the story Symon had given them before paying Belladonna more attention. While Reginald spoke, Xane watched the bored, nameless, fellow with his own golden eyes. The only steps lefts to learn of this particular dance were to discover what this cool aristo could possibly provide the Queen. “You know, Prince Black, practice does make perfect.” Xane commented, watching Marrius rather than the man he was addressing and spooning up his soup. He hoped his old friend would catch the message. Doing his best so sound perfectly oblivious, he continued. “In the bedroom arts, I mean. There’s always some new trick to be learned from every encounter. But be that as it may, I’m enjoying the pork. Are these spices from Dhemlan, my Queen? Or both Dhemlan and Scelt? I’m always fascinated at what professionals come up with in the way of dishes, especially with ingredients from different parts of the realm.” ((Hrms. Hayll would give him away and lead in a random direction. *Chooses a spot in Kaeleer instead*)) |
![]() |
|
| Melissa | Sep 24 2007, 11:47 PM Post #15 |
|
Keeper of the Blood and Giver of the Jewels
![]()
|
Quick OOC Note: The gates are closed currently so getting spices from Hayll would be very hard, and most people in Kaeleer wouldn't really even know that they existed. So while Xane is from Terrielle, those with him wouldn't really know what he was talking about. |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · Celestine Manor · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
















2:44 PM Jul 11