Teb bowed once more, almost taking a knee to the ground. "Again, I beg forgiveness, I was merely acting as instructed." He explained before standing back up with eyes cast down. The assassin then stepped back and started to blend in with the crowd once more.
__________________
"Insert some witty comment here"
Why not? Akoraun keeps struggling to get out of the woman's grip.
__________________ zimmerwald1915 made my avatar!
Spoiler
Quote:
This is the thief who likes to hoard,
That loves the bard with the puppet Lord
That admires the fighter with the green-hilted sword,
That employs the Wizard, whose bird is ignored,
That has the gender unexplored
That intrigues the Halfling, usually bored,
That slew a mountain of the goblin horde,
That follows the cleric,
That serves the lich,
That seeks the gate,
That guards the snarl,
That lives in the prison the gods built.
The Matron nods at each introduction before her eyes alight on someone who wasn't mentioned by Sornnolu, pausing for a moment before continuing on.
"I suppose I will just enjoy your hospitality then, until a chance to speak with your Matron presents itself. I don't suppose I could borrow the lad who you had announce me? I find myself in need of an attendant, and those I brought with me have earned a slight reprieve." The young Matron's eyes sparkle with mischief for a moment, in stark contrast to her sedate smile.
When Akoraun starts to struggle, the guard tightens her grip and hauls him off of his feet. For a split second she considers reaching for her knife, but they were already at the gate, it would cause too much trouble, and she was already late. Rather than slitting the little brats throat, the guard simply throws him out of the enclave. "Do not let him back in!" She tells the guards at the gate. "If he tries shoot him. He's a godsdamned spy!" With that, she turns and all but runs deeper into Delmah Phor.
[Xar'Cha Palace]
"I am certain he would be glad to attend to your every need." Sornnolu says, gesturing for the young Xar'Cha lad to approach.
Naitiri almost says something stupid like 'she's so small' or 'so young', but manages to hold her tongue. That really did come as a shock. She'd have to get the story on the foreign matron later. Nait turns, and seems to recognize Tobias as she does. "Oh. Hello there. Mister... Vulpan? Is that right?"
Yes, that's right. Tobias politely smiles as he sizes up Naitiri. I don't believe we've met...
__________________
"No friend ever served me,
and no enemy ever wronged me,
whom I have not repaid in full."
-Lucius Cornelius Sulla
Atop one of the towers in Inside, a man stood, holding a spyglass and looking towards Delmah. "That's a lot of troops," he muttered to himself, lowering the instrument. "Wonder what their game is..."
Turning away from the view, he began to climb back down...
Xar'Cha Palace
Arriving fashionably, or perhaps just late, came the... bodyguard? Escort? It wasn't especially clear what the man represented, wearing armour without any sort of drow house markings. The plates were finely made, and inlaid with silver runes, the helmet topped by a pair of soaring wings, the impassive blank face betraying no emotion, no hint of what might be hidden behind the helmet. There wasn't even a way to tell what race the armour's occupant belonged to. In any case, he was here, and the person he had arrived with was bound to cause the turning of more than a few heads...
This is the thief who likes to hoard,
That loves the bard with the puppet Lord
That admires the fighter with the green-hilted sword,
That employs the Wizard, whose bird is ignored,
That has the gender unexplored
That intrigues the Halfling, usually bored,
That slew a mountain of the goblin horde,
That follows the cleric,
That serves the lich,
That seeks the gate,
That guards the snarl,
That lives in the prison the gods built.
Having finished her conversation with flashy and flashier, Ilpholin moves on to find others to talk to. Fortunately, it seems several more people have arrived so it shouldn't be horribly hard to find someone.
__________________
There is happiness for those who accept their fate.
There is glory for those who resist their fate.
Magtok glances elsewhere, and his eyes happen upon Dipsnig, presently yapping away with what he's mostly certain is a drow woman. You can never be too sure with elves though, can you?
"Hrm. Just to clarify and make sure we haven't been having this conversation for all the wrong reasons, you know that whole goblin ancestry thing is completely fictional, right? Because it is."
General Ridgebank appears to be suffering from a bout of coughning. Boss Flatnose, meanwhile, rolls her eyes a little. "I assure you, Lord Magtok, I do not put a lot of trust into baseless rumors. I realize that they are spread by Razortooth in order to unnerve you."
__________________
My FFRP characters. Avatar by Kid Kris. Sigatars by Gulaghar, Kid Kris, Zefir and billtodamax, respectively.
"Stand tall and attend me, and tell me your name if your adherence to duty hasn't driven it from your mind. Chin up, back straight, keep light on your feet so you can follow my whims as I utter them." The matron instructs precisely as she scans the room another time before setting off at a leisurely pace towards the refreshment table. Ilpholin or some other partygoer may intercept her at their peril, as she seems to be in an uncommon good mood at the moment. If you look closely, you may even catch her breaking into a skip for a moment before restraining herself once again.
"It's Ryldolin, Illharess." The boy stands straighter and stops looking at the ground, but he doesn't dare look high enough to meet her eyes. The boy stays closer to her as she walks, ready to attend to her needs.
Lord Magtok? Rumored to be part goblin? Oh, this was rich. Inala speaks up, looking between the cyborg and the goblin boss.
"Why would anyone want to spread those rumors? What do they have to gain from it?"
--------------------------- [Xar'Cha Palace-near Sorn]
Asim breathes a silent sigh of relief when the Matron passes him by. He had heard stories about the 'child Matron' but thought they had been exaggerations. Apparently not. He looks over at Sorn, trying to judge if it was safe again to approach.
__________________
Spoiler
Quotes:
Quote:
Originally Posted by Haruki-kun
Wikipedia NEVER had me busy for a whole day the way TV Tropes did. If Wikipedia is a Time Killer, TV Tropes is a Time Genocider.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Nerd-o-rama
If you squint really hard, this is the plot of the Command & Conquer: Red Alert series.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Artemis97
Is the entirety of WoD made up of small decrepid ghost towns?
The drow who walked beside the man had some very clear House connections. He was dressed in supple black leather overlaid with chainmail. Mithral pauldrons were enameled with the blue and gold spider of House Xar'Cha. A spider-silk tabbard bore the same image worked in gold thread. Over one shoulder, he wore the black piwafwi cloak of a drow noble, subtly embroidered with red and purple threads, and lined with white wolf fur. Gold bracers encased his wrists, the edges worked into a flame design, clearly magical items of some sort. From his belt hung a pair of thin adamantine swords, well cared for and also well used. These were no ceremonial items, but true instruments of death. The drow wore them openly, likely allowed only because of his position within the House and on the understanding that he does not draw them. His position was quite high indeed, as this was Sszinyon Xar'Cha, Secondboy of House Xabaresh Chaeron, one of the two surviving sons of the old Matron Xar'Cha, and brother to the current Matron Danube Xar'Cha.
Near the entrance, Sornnolu does a bit of a double take upon seeing his uncle. He knew the elder drow had taken up residence in the Nexus, but had not expected him to make an appearance here. Had he even sent him an invitation?
A light laugh from behind him confirmed that no, he had not, but Felyn'wae had taken it upon herself to do so. Sornnolu sighs. The lady did like causing trouble. He sees Asim and gives a helpless shrug. With the Matron now gone, it was safe to approach again.
The man in armour looked around, at all the many drow and other guests, visor moving impassively from side to side. So far, nobody had come over to say hello to Sszy, which he found telling. Perhaps they were not welcome here? They had recieved an invitation, but from his admittedly limited experience, laughing drow were rarely a good sign.
He didn't trust anything here.
Turning his head, he looked to Sszinyon. "Remind me. Who did the invitation say it was from?"
Well Ilpholin was avoiding Shrike the first go around, and that hasn't changed so it's time to move on to the little girl matron who kinda stole Ilpholin's shtick! Admittedly, Ilpholin hasn't had much time for little girly things lately like she did in her early stages of character development. And she's still not a matron or anything yet. But she can still throw a temper tantrum with the best of them!
Ilpholin approaches respectively all the same, giving a bow when near enough. "Greetings Illharess. I trust you find the palace to your liking?"
__________________
There is happiness for those who accept their fate.
There is glory for those who resist their fate.
"Nothing more or less than my irritation, madam. That's all Dipsnig can ever hope to accomplish, but he does it quite well."
Magtok tries his best not to notice Sszinyon. This isn't the time or place to feel guilty about foolishly sparing the guy's life. There's too many people Maggy felt obligated to destroy but didn't, and nowhere near enough time to be wasted feeling awful about it.
Yes, that's right. Tobias politely smiles as he sizes up Naitiri. I don't believe we've met...
"We haven't. I'm with a company called Elexxion. And, if I recall correctly, you're with the Council. It's an honor," Naitiri offers Tobias a small bow, hands clasped in front of her, as a token of respect. She glances at Ori, tone and posture at ease. "Is this your wife?"
__________________ The (somewhat) overdue avatar of Adir, my FFRP character, was done by Gulaghar. Thanks!
Spoiler
In a dream I found a place
of rotting meat and eldritch grace
and looked upon his primordial face
and from my thoughts could not erase
that sense of time that sense of space
and my heart the darkness did embrace.
-Johanna Stokes
"We haven't. I'm with a company called Elexxion. And, if I recall correctly, you're with the Council. It's an honor," Naitiri offers Tobias a small bow, hands clasped in front of her, as a token of respect. She glances at Ori, tone and posture at ease. "Is this your wife?"
The matron stops as she's addressed, holding up a hand to Ryldolin and gesturing to the refreshment table as she turns to face Ilpholin, "Fetch us two of the sweet pastries, cut in half and with a sliver cut from the center of each." That command given, she gives Ilpholin the majority of her attention.
"You're Ilpholin, yes? Your brother just introduced me around. The palace is a bit brighter than I'm used to, but nice if you enjoy that sort of thing. You head AMEN then? Rather dreadful reputation it garnered under its previous management so I've been told." Far from throwing a temper tantrum, the tiny tot of a matron seems almost cultured and quite classically schooled in etiquette despite her age, but Ilpholin might pick out there's something not entirely right with her from the way her eyes drift back to the table of food and how she rocks on the balls of her feet for a moment before stopping herself and standing still.
"You can address me as Elvanriina, if you'd like." And at last we have a name for this Matron Baenneld.
Tobias looks at the mechanical arms curiously. Yes, the Council... I wouldn't call it an honor, meeting a humble civil servant, but the sentiment is appreciated and reciprocated. And what kind of company is Elexxion?
__________________
"No friend ever served me,
and no enemy ever wronged me,
whom I have not repaid in full."
-Lucius Cornelius Sulla
"Yes, Illharess." Ryldolin hurries over to the table and sets about preparing the pastries. It'll take him a short while, so the two women will have some time to talk before he returns.
"The written invitation was from my House. The drowess who came to us said she was sent by my brother's son, and yet he seems surprised to see me here. I believe we have been used as pawns in some joke. No matter. I have every right to be here as a son of this House." Sszinyon decides, an arrogant frown settling over his features.
"I'd say there's worse jokes than an excuse for a party and drinks," the redheaded Exalt observes from behind Ssinzyon...
...wait, wasn't she over by the punchbowl two seconds ago?
"...of course, the party favors in the punch are nice too. This one has a nice bouquet - oil of taggit, I think." She smirks. "Although it's possible it's simply an exotic flavour of punch, I suppose. I wouldn't really be able to tell the difference, after all."
Tobias looks at the mechanical arms curiously. Yes, the Council... I wouldn't call it an honor, meeting a humble civil servant, but the sentiment is appreciated and reciprocated. And what kind of company is Elexxion?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mee
Ori nods once, politely.
"I am, at that. Queen Orianna. S'a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," Naitiri says, smiling brightly at the Queen. A queen? Of what, she would have to ask. She turns to Tobias. "We represent a variety of interests. Genetic engineering, bodily augmentation, and robotics foremost among them."
__________________ The (somewhat) overdue avatar of Adir, my FFRP character, was done by Gulaghar. Thanks!
Spoiler
In a dream I found a place
of rotting meat and eldritch grace
and looked upon his primordial face
and from my thoughts could not erase
that sense of time that sense of space
and my heart the darkness did embrace.
-Johanna Stokes
From what I've heard it's in a volcano, which must get dreadfully hot and bright. I don't think I'd enjoy the environs as much as someone who's used to it would. Thank you for the offer though. I'll remember it should I ever feel the need to stop in. Tell me, I'm not exactly as aware as I should be of the circumstances, but why has your family chosen to settle up here again?" The matron asks with a hint of curiosity, picking the question from many she could use as light conversation starters.
"Ah well, it was at my personal suggestion frankly. There are many untapped resources here in the Nexus, though my half-brother has been a bit single-minded about this city in particular. The surface races here are poorly fit for... proper labor, but there are other uses. For instance, a large number of them are quite loose with things of excessive monetary value. If the palace here is any indication, we've made a fortune just through trade."
"You certainly came a long way to visit us." Ilpholin adds, now that location has sort of been brought up.
__________________
There is happiness for those who accept their fate.
There is glory for those who resist their fate.
Sszinyon turns and takes in the woman who had addressed him, looking her up and down. Mostly he was sizing her up, but there was a hint of appreciation in his red eyes. "Perhaps you should refine your tastes?" The drow suggests. "The Underdark has many delicacies to offer."
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