(OOC) Arianwen nodnods. Made it 'Numerous stands line the streets for a couple blocks all around' and 'enthusiastic multitudes of entertainers'
(OOC) Victus says: Sounds good!
(OOC) Victus says: Now to see if anyone actually shows up
Gareth arrives.
Cain arrives.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Cain before departing.
Cain is leaving Arx - Upper Boroughs - The Outrage, heading for Arx - Upper Boroughs - Traders Home.
Margot arrives.
(OOC) Margot says: ahh!
Acacia arrives.
Cain arrives.
(OOC) Arianwen hmms. I wonder if I should just emit the desc. I'm not super sure if anyone can actually see the @cal room desc thing.
(OOC) Arianwen waves!
"I mean-- I'm not gonna /stop/ you from calling me that, but it might be nice to go a little more subtle, in case there's roaming silks who want to glare at uppity upjumps. And people are much less likely to buy things from you if they're in the middle of glaring," Acacia rationalizes towards Cain, grinning aside towards him and then wandering through the festivities themselves.
(OOC) Acacia says: I can't see it myself.
(OOC) Acacia says: Usually it shows right as you walk in.
Hammar arrives.
(OOC) Victus can't see it either!
(OOC) Acacia says: It worked for the Gala, so I dunno.
(OOC) Acacia says: Maybe there's a trick.
(OOC) Arianwen did '@cal/roomdesc <description>'
Cain considers Acacia's argument and frowns. "But there's a certain flair to it, isn't there?" He less argues and more ponders, all with a little twirl of his hand. "But I suppose you're right, so I'll just call you B.L. or something," he decides, pleased with his compromise, returning her grin and following the woman through the festivities.
(OOC) Cain says: Did you try having Victus to it?
(OOC) Cain says: Erm, do it.
(OOC) Cain says: I swear I can type.
(OOC) Victus tries!
(OOC) Victus says: Did that work?
(OOC) Arianwen for one has faith in Cain's typing <3
(OOC) Acacia says: No. :(
(OOC) Cain says: No. Then try @cal/changeroomdesc <event number>=<new desc>
(OOC) Cain says: That seems like the admin command.
(OOC) Cain says: But might as well.
(OOC) Victus says: That did work
(OOC) Acacia says: Holy shit.
(OOC) Victus says: you are the baws, Cain
(OOC) Cain tips hat.
(OOC) Arianwen yays!
(OOC) Cain has his moments.
6 Thrax Guards have been dismissed.
With a flip-flop sounding step that more or less precedes the sight of Hammar, the massive dim-wit makes his way into the Outrage. Hammar looks as if he's cut his hair for this occasion, the street feast. His hair is jagged and unaligned from one side of his head to the other, obvious that he had no mirror and did it himself when trimming. Despite this, Hammar appears as if he recently bathed, within a day or two, the usual grime and smell to the man is gone. Hammar is excitedly wringing his ham-sized hands together. "Hammar smell food!"
(OOC) Arianwen laughs XD
(OOC) Gareth says: will be a bit before he can jump in, forgive me
Victus scratches at his cheek and says, to Arianwen, "well, I'll give you this, you got an awful lot outta my fucking coin." He's standing by the stage, surveying the crowd with a gruff expression on his face, his hand idly resting against the hilt of his two handed longsword. He has a cheap throw-away earthenware cup in his hand, the seize of it made smaller by sheer contrast, containing a bit of ale from one of the stalls. Its a common brew, for common folk, but he drinks it without a grimace. "You might just make a decent fucking hostess, eh?" Spying Hammar's unmissable presence, he makes a grunt of recognition. He looks for the hammer.
Margot supports thraxian events it would seem and so it is that despite being in the boroughs, she's shown up to show off her pearls and flowing thraxian silks. She looks around thoughtfully at those gathered about. She sort of hovers around the edges of the gathering to watch.
"Hammar get drink?" He asks of a person giving out ale. The vendor asks whether or not the massive man has a cup and Hammar holds up a sausage thick finger and pulls off his backpack and digs in it before he pulls out a crude wooden cup that is quite large, but like Victus, Hammar's massive fist wrapped around the cup makes it appear small. The large man steps up and holds the carved wooden up under the bung for the ale, watching as the liquid is poured within. Hammar looks relatively overly happy to see the cup full. "Hammar find honey cake" He tells the ale vendor as he moves off, the long shaft of his warhammer lightly whacking against his leg with each large stride further along. He sips at the ale as his dull gaze scans over the fish vendor. "Acacia said Hammar get her honey cake." He tells a couple of the people offering him something to eat.


For now, Arianwen Grayhope settles in a chair at the little table before the stage, a large scroll set out across its wooden surface. Though there are others assisting, she occasionally busies herself with scribbling who donated what for the benefit of the hungry and desperate commons. Whether it be themselves for a platonic date, prizes for the competitions, or a simple pouch of silver, she welcomes any offers with a bright and grateful smile, registering their charity with a ink-dripping black feather. Today, she's adorned herself in a more simplistic fashion than she might for more ostentatious parties. She wears a light blue surcoat over a simple sea green dress, blue slippers along her pale feet and long brown-blonde tresses pouring in elegant curls down her back. The only hint of wealth glimmers upon her chest, the silver-gold amethyst necklace won at Princess Alarissa's Masquerade ball. Smiling prettily up towards Victus, she lets out a mirthful giggle, "it's not so difficult when most of this has been provided by commoners looking for patrons, or hoping to otherwise be recognized." She beams to her his casual compliment, bowing her head to state, "I'm glad you approve, Lord Victus. I just hope this goes as well as I dream."
Mingling with a brazen presence, Acacia's quick to flow through the bustling and raucous crowds without the slightest bit of consternation visible upon her features. Escorting Cain with due course towards the ale, two cups, exchanged for surreptitiously untucked twin knights are procurred and filled after only a meager amount of shoulder-to-shoulder jostling in the process. Shoving the drink she'd scored for him back into his hands, she bumps into him all the same with a ballsy grin and then gulps some of it down as she surveys the busier area. "Let's stick to names for now, love, and you can lavish me with such in a few days and I'll adore you for it," she claims, winking at him once and then immediately setting off towards some of the vendors, "Let's go talk to them about pearls."

But it's hard to miss Hammar's presence and she ends up following the exceptionally huge man with lazier steps and then boldly trying to kick out at his back foot -- with the potential of a duck after if he responds to it poorly, "That's in a couple days, love. A couple days. But we'll get you food soon, eh? I have it all planned out. It'll be fucking brilliant. You know my boy Cain, Hammar?"
And right behind Acacia is Cain. Every now and then, his hand reaches out, the stops and he grimaces muttering a few words to himself. He slouches as he walks, shaking his head. He follows his companion to the ale, and when it's shoved to him the man visibly cheers up. He drinks without hesitation, and might as well be drinking water, really. Using his arm, he wipes some foam off his mouth. "Names are going to be really boring, really fast though," he argues and exhales. "But fine, names it is," he flips a hand at this, and drinks some more. "I better get a lot of adoration in a few days, though," he mumbles, unable to hide the grin that follows. He hooks the thumb of his free hand on his belt, carrying his cup in the other as he follows Acacia. He winces when she tries to kick his back foot, and takes a healthy step away from the woman. Still, he flashes a winning smile at Hammar, raising his cup when Acacia makes the introductions. "Salutations, my good friend. It's a pleasure to meet you and all that," he offers, friendly enough.
When Gareth enters into this little festival, he doesn't hold up the charade of good fun and cheer. Quite the opposite, Gareth is here on business, or at least that is how he tries to hold himself. His posture is straight, his movements slow, and jagged.. he is careful to not hit anyone or anything.. for that might ruin the illusion. Yet even this facade of power cannot be held for long as the man is soon pausing to lean against the side of a booth, staring across the street, noting every face in the crowd, often times staring overly long at those wh omight linger just a bit too much, Acacia, Hammar and Cain in particular will be the unfortunate recipents of an overly long cold gaze.
"Got any takers of your great auction?" Victus asks Arianwen. He stands in a militant pose, feet solidly braced, and still his hard eyes stalk the commoner crowds. His usual crew of reaver guards are mingling in the crowds, too, but a subtler presence than they usually show. Just a few more Thraxians among the revelrying crowds, abeit armed ones. "Or shall we all just have to settle for bidding on you, eh?" A brow arches just a touch in question.



He spies Gareth, and grunts. "Fuck. The Gods be damned Inquisition showed up. There's the makings of a grand party."
Margot spots Gareth and lifts a hand to wave, "Your Highness!" She calls to the scarred inquisitor, perhaps the oly one to ever be relieved for the arrival of the inquisition. She moves over towards him, her chin dipping respectfully. "I hope the day has found you well. It's lovely to see people out in public gathering peacefully isn't it?"
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Margot before departing.
With a shoe that has a loose sole and feet as large as his, to have a foot randomly kicked, despite as quick-footed as the man may be, Hammar still stumbles up momentarily, his wooden cup spills half the contents of his ale upon the ground. "HAMMAR!" He bellows out and the hand which is not holding the cup suddenly balls into a fearfully large fist and he spins with it raised at about chest level, ready to whack out like a rock-em sock-em robot, but he freezes upon seeing Acacia. THere is a moment of confusion, as to what must be done. He glances down at the ground, as if looking for something. His hand drops from the fist-shape and he reaches his hand out so he is not touching her and stands there, out of touching range from Acacia. "Hammar spill." He tells her with a mopey look down into his crude wooden cup. His eyes raise from the cup and spots lasagna face. "Hammar no kill monsters for scary face!" He suddenly bellows out and begins to look for a quick exit route.
Arianwen breathes out a small sigh, "it would appear I have done too well with the entertainment and food." A small shrug of her shoulders, not letting it dissuade her overly much, "still, I'm just happy people are hopefulyl enjoying themselves." A little giggle, followed by a second shrug, leaning forward flirtatiously, "I suppose I'll just have to let the people bid on a date with their hostess, if things come to that." She glances down to her scroll and then back up at the party, "you know what, I think I'll mingle just a bit...my throat's awful parched besides." She slowly rises from the table, after speaking a few words to her assistants, and glides up beside the Thraxian host. "Show me how a man of Thrax parties?" When Victus notes Gareth, she arches a brow, only to state optimistically, "ah. Well. I...suppose this means even the Inquisition believes our celebration worthy of a visit? Let us hope he just doesn't announce what flavor of creature he is to the common populace, and I'm sure things'll be fine." Winding a hand around his arm, she adds, "come on. Let's mingle."
Gareth will visibly snort then in response to a certain excalamtion by a certain man as his eyes lift to look at him. UNfortunatley it means that Margot doesn't get the greeting she probably deserves as quickly as she deserves. Yet once this amusement on his face dies down, he'll turn to offer an od to her, and then an awkward bow. Awkward in that it is stiff, difficult.. and not due to any lack of flourish or formality. "Lady Margot, A pleasure to see you." He'll comment before lifting his head. "Hoping to.. enjoy your time here? I have not really taken a look around at the festivities, anything of note you might recommend?"
Acacia's tongue tucks within her inner cheek enough to press it concave at Hammar's measure of change, but that doesn't present that immediate laugh which escapes her afterwards, unhindered and genuine. "Today, it's a day of celebration, love. We're celebrating -- drinking and eating and all." And for that, after a drink of her own cup is swigged heartily, she reaches out to exchange her own cup for his now well-sloshed one. "And I got you. What are friends for after all?" Breaking the physical distance between there, she reaches with her freer hand to try to smack the enormous man companionably on the back.

Shedding a wink towards Cain, she explains, "Hammar's an Ulbran, but Gods, the man grows on you, doesn't he? I'm gonna do him one good. You should make solid friends of him too." But Hammar's shout had her focus penetrating through crowds she'd constantly been observant in, a study made of Gareth from the distance, holding with a keen look, and a far more interested one then placed upon Margot. Towards no one in particular, she wonders, "Is that Lady Margot? Prince Dagon spoke exceptionally highly of her."
(OOC) Acacia says: Concave. Convex. Ya'know.
(OOC) Acacia says: Actually. All the typos. I give up.
"You go," Victus says with a vague forward shooing gesture for Arianwen to go on ahead without his company. "I'll catch up with you in a bit." The rest of his cup of ale is chugged down in a quick little swallow before he looks to have it refilled.
(OOC) Victus says: brb quick! someone at the door
(OOC) Margot says: reads typoease no worries
Give Hammar brought his own cup, it's far more likely that Acacia would've tried to just slosh some of her own drink into his.
"That was a fucking cold breeze all of the sudden," Cain mutters, hugging himself some even as he still drinks from his cup. His amber eyes quickly go back to Hammar as he hears the man and when he sees the bawling fist, he blinks. "Oh boy," he says, getting ready to just shove Acacia out of the way. But then the man stops, and Cain can't help but follow his gaze to the ground. From that ground he looks at Acacia and shrugs his shoulders, confused. He's about to offer his cup to Hammar as a peace offering, when the large man looks for his exit.

Spying Gareth due to following Hammar's gaze to Gareth, Cain quirks a brow. "Oh boy," he says again. "That's going to become my line isn't it?" He muses. "It's a terrible line too," he notes to nobody in particular. He side glances dubiously at Acacia at her explanation of Hammar. "Uhm. He's grown a lot alright," the man with the amber eyes observes. He looks from Acacia to his cup and looking a little forlon, he raises it up for Hammar to take. "Here, cheers friend. Can't have too many drinks. So to making friends, yes?" he manages a friendly smile.
Margot looks about the place, "Any of the sea food, it should be delicious. And perhaps if you're looking for something for a lady friend." She tilts her head to show off her lovely pearl earrings. "The Mourning Isles have a plethora of lovely things, though I am not sure what other festivities are being planned yet."
As it appears Acacia and Cain have no issues with Gareth being here, Hammar seems to calm, especially as Gareth makes no attempt to approach Hammar and his group. His attention shifts to his cup as Acacia pours some of her ale into it and then he looks to Cain. "Hammar grow?" He inquires of the man and then brings his hand up to the top of his head like a kid might when their back is against a wall to test their height, he swings his hand out in front of himself, as he does so, the hand slowly raises even higher up and he blinks, his sunken right eye squinting at the hand. "Hammar growed!" When Acacia slaps him good-naturedly he looks down at her. "Hammar friend?"
Arianwen gives Victus a single pouting glance to be shooed away, but she obliges and begins striding elsewhere anyway. "Don't be long!" Eventually, she comes upon a number of familiar faces, smiling brightly when she moves to approach Acacia. "Mistress Culler! Glad to see that you've come to enjoy the festivities! How've you been? I fear we have not spoken as often as I'd like these past few weeks." Starry eyes flicker towards Cain, "and...you're the man that was selling that charm at the Murder some weeks past, are you not?" A mischievous grin, "care to offer yourself up for a date? I'm sure people will pounce at the opportunity to meet such a powerful man. You could show off your thingamabobs on the stage!" Then her attention falls upon the giant of a man, neck aching as she lifts her focus to stare at Hammar. "Wow. You're...tall."
Gareth's lips will twist into a frown for a momment, as if considering how to respond to Margot before he finally states simply, "Might as well look at.. some pearls then. It could do no harm in the end I suppose." His hands will come behind his back then as he straightens. Hammar will get that cold stare from the distance then as he looks to the man hard for a momment before his gaze returns to Margot.. far more interesting company no doubt.
As another heartier laugh leaks from Acacia's lips, and with her grin in full parade at Hammar's measuring antics, there's a lighter shake of her head and then a further tilt of her eyes up towards him. With only the slightest diminishing of her features, she acknowledges to the intimidating man with an comfortable air, "Friends as well as those who don't work side by side can be, love. Which is pretty damn close, isn't it?" Draining the last of her ale in a single swig and dabbing her knuckles gingerly across her mouth, she's soon splaying hands towards Arianwen, "Lovely Near-Full-Courtesan Arianwen, how could I not support that which you're doing for the populace? Even with your steady climb, there's always those who wish to help from below. What you've done here is fantastic though. And not a single person skinned in sight."

The jest was made heartily, watching the trio with a cheerful bit of focus, though the perceptive would likely notice how she keeps a careful eye upon Gareth and Margot, as well as any other Silks who may traverse here and there within the heavy crowds. "I'm going to go look at pearls really quick though. Never can hurt to know more about the sea. Excuse me a moment, you three?"
"Yes... Hammar, you grew," Cain even smiles at as he says the words. "Which is pretty amazing, when you think about it. And I'd love to be your friend too. Since his cup wasn't taken, he drinks from it, happy to keep it and visibly so. "And I'd love to be your friend too," he says. When Arianwen approaches, at first Cain flashes her a smile. But then she opens her mouth and that smile has him gaping a little bit, then rubbing his chin. "No, not. I think you're confusing me with someone else. That's Thain, yeah, he looks a lot like me. We get this all the time," he assures her, with a couple of bobs of his head. "I certainly was not selling any charms," he glances in Gareth's direction. "And I certainly don't have any thingamabobs to show at the stage," he continues, with another look at Gareth.

The man swallows and leans in toward Arianwen, making a cutting notion at his neck, when he thinks nobody is looking, and offering her a nervous smile. And then Acacia is leaving him, and he looks in her direction, offering a nervous look. A full step is taken that puts him closer to Hammar. "Have fun with the pearls," he tells his companion. Swallowing, he looks at Arianwen again.

"I'd make a terrible date. I have like eight silvers to my name. I couldn't even buy someone half a plate of food," Cain tells her.
Margot looks over the giant man some what alarmed before she looks back to Gareth. Her hand reaches to curl around his elbow, encouraging him to lead on. "Well then shall we?" She asks the prince. "Have you ever visited the Mourning Isles?" She asks nicely, though she seems to notice Acacia's attentin on her and offers a polite nod and tight smile.
(OOC) Hammar says: idle a sec
Gareth will offer only the slightest of nods in response to Margot then as she touches him, it causes a bit of a wince, though he composes himself as he twists his lips into a frown. "I will do my best to guide you, Lady Tyde." Gareth responds as he slowly makes his way, step by slow step throughout the crowds, he might take a rather roundabout route that will take him closer to Acacia, Hammar and Cain in turn, though his eventual goal, as slow as it is.. is towards what appears to be a very obvious jewler, with silvers and the odd bit of gold on display. Or pearls. Gareth isn't clear on it. "I've never been to any of the isles, Lady Margot. I've not had the pleasure, nor the need to do so. I find that our subjects.. have been doing a wonderful job keeping everything in line and order all o ntheir own as you know."
(OOC) Hammar says: sorry, grandma called
Victus has his drink refilled, and is for a bit distracted by a troupe of entertainers who are providing that delightful Thraxian artform of the bawdy sailor's song. The warlord's stony features twist in a half amused smile as they get to the truly lascivious details. There's something about oysters and eating and blow outs.



Leaving the cup at the table where Arianwen had been collecting date volunteers, he sets off into the crowd. His shirt's sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, baring thick scarred forearms. As he moves, confident, outwardly carefree, he's shadowed by one of his guards. Close by, just in case.



"Are we ready to throw some fucking hammers?" The hammer throwing competition that is. Its mostly Hammar he's asking, even as he comes up besides Arianwen.
"Of course! Even as the Mistress of the Murder, I can't be leaving skins around willy nilly." A tap of Arianwen's chin, "but perhaps I could host a special skinning event...?" She grins playfully, "anyway, I'm happy to support the populace however I can. My steady climb is only made possible by the generosity of those above, and the support of those below." She smiles and waves a hand as Acacia makes her leave towards elsewhere, "enjoy the pearls and the feast!" When she spots Cain glancing nervously at the Lord Inquisitor and denying the creation of magical charms, she smacks her forehead and bobs her head, "of course! Of course. It was Thain. The lanky man with the walking stick. Still, you strike quite the figure. I'd bet you could cause noble ladies to faint with just a single charming smile." A dismissive wave of her hand, "it doesn't matter how much silver you've got. If you've got some worthy skill or are simply a good conversationalist, I'm sure you'll do fine. This party -is-, after all, partially meant to show off the commons to the nobility, though perhaps that was less obvious than I intended..." When Victus arrives beside her, she grins up at him, giggling at the idea of Hammar throwing hammers.
It isn't until Gareth and Margot might've found sanctuary at the jeweler that Acacia would consider approaching, her steps unstealthy to allow her impending presence to be clear far before the time in which she might venturer nearer, always an appropriate distance away. The cup she'd previously bought, empty now, was handed off to someone who seemed to have been without, attire crisply tugged once for decorum, and then she's interjecting between the two, "Nothing can truly compare to the pearls found in the Mourning Isles, or at least it was that way from my limited experience. There was a minor Lord who once who told me such, Dreslor, I think? Commanded a fine ship I had the rare privilege of working on once."

This all comes with the quick and abrupt follow up of a flourishing bow, brown eyes tilting up towards Margot, as she adds, "Forgive me for interrupting, my Lady. Although I couldn't afford things like this, they're certainly a delight to behold, even for such common eyes. Acacia Culler. Are you enjoying the festivities thus far?" A secondary look is attributed towards Gareth, her grin a bit too pronounced, "Your Highness."
Looking down at Arianwen, Hammar gives her a toothy smile, his mouth is missing a couple teeth, the rest are yellowed. "YOu pretty." Hammar tells Arianwen. "Hammar be your husband." Since Cain turns her down on a date, it seems Hammar is ready to marry her. The large man looks a bit nervous as Gareth begins to walk nearer, his large hand slowly drops to hang down near his warhammer, and then suddenly Victus is nearby. "Hammar whack, not throw." He tells the man, seeming confused. When Cain steps up near him, he looks down at him. "Hammar friend."
"Indeed. Very good friends Hammar," Cain agrees, standing right next to the larger man and flashing a smile at him. He drinks from his cup, and glances in the direction of what's know Gareth, Margot and Acacia. But it is a brief glance, before he turns to Arianwen once more, looking from her to Hammar. "Looks like my friend Hammar here is interested. He is quite the impressive man as you can see," he assures.

"And I don't think anyone here would bid on me," he insists, scratching his chin and looking all around at the faces in the crowd. "When is the auction taking place anyway?" He asks, eyes narrowed.
Margot's corseted frame is dotted with pearls, more on her ribbons and jewelry, all tastefully restrained. She considers the leather clad woman curiously, then offers a polite nod. "A pleasure to meet you Mistress Culler. Are you from the Isles?" Though with a glance towards the blade the woman wears she looks doubtful. She pauses though, "Your clothes Mistress? Did you have them made in town? I've been looking for a leather worker for weeks."
Victus takes Hammar's decision to propose to Arianwen in stride, without scoffing, mockery or condemnation. Instead he just grates out a rough affirmation: "Aye, that she is." With his sleeves rolled up he's already ready for some hammer throwing. Not that he needs the prize, mind. "Ain't never too late to pick up a trick or two. Can learn a new fucking skill." With that said, he looks towards the area where they've set up the hammer throwing competition, and starts to unhurriedly roll over in that direction. His head rolls this way and that, losening up a kink or five in his neck. He stretches out his arms, and looks at the marker to see how far the furtherest throw has come. From his expression he's decided he can beat that.
"Ah, so you've personally enjoy pearls as well then, Miss Culler?" Gareth will inquire then as he turns to look at the woman, he won't stare at her straight on, considering he is carefully inspecting the jewlery booth itself, no doubt trying to appear somewhat interested in the subject matter before him.. even if it is.. street jewlery. From Thraxian lands. Good Gods, what was he doing? "I was curious about that too, who makes your leathers? I was also quite impressed by your blade as well, you've certainly.. a flare for the.. dramatic, Miss Culler."
(OOC) Hammar conna have to buzz, kid just tore out their coat hanger from the wall
(OOC) Victus says: ciao, hammar
Arianwen lets out a warm giggle to hear Hammar propose the very moment of their introduction. "I'm flattered, my good man. However, I live the life of a courtesan to rich and powerful nobility. I fear it would never work out." She purses her lips, appearing deep in momentary thought. "Maybe we could instead be..." A shy glance up, "friends? Would you like that, Hammar? I'd like that." A solemn nod of her head towards Cain, "-quite- the impressive man." She blinks, a light bulb metaphorically shining overhead, "ah! I know just what to do. Hammar, once you're done tossing hammers, come with me to the stage? You can show yourself off for a date!" Glancing towards Cain then, she waves a hand, "oh, I'm sure you'd do fine. But if you insist. It's still nice to see familiar faces among the festivities." Hearing his question, she explains, "soon, I think. If it's only me up there, the auction will also be quite short, I fear."
(OOC) Arianwen waves!
(OOC) Hammar says: Sorry to run, was a blast!
Hammar has left the game.
"I'm not from the Isles," Acacia willingly answers Margot without the slightest hint of subterfuge to her response. The knife is sheathed in easy access to her, at a horizontal along her belt, but it's certainly not reached for. "Born and raised here within Arx, I'm afraid, but I took quite some time getting out and about and it was a rare, but unforgettable trip for me." As her palm rasps against the leather of her bodice, she effortlessly returns to her, "But ah. That is quite a shame, My Lady. It might be due to some of the issues at the commons which have been disrupting some of the merchants, but efforts are quite under way to rectify it. Even from his Highness here himself. Perhaps I can tell you about it sometime, My Lady? Not here, of course. I'd hate to interrupt parties for good causes."

Casting a look towards Gareth without the slightest lessoning of her grin, she further answers them both, comfortably, "Of course, your Highness. I'm a female, after all. -- You know. Master Malavaunt tailored the leathers which Talen, the Sword of Lenosia wore at the Tournament of Roses. I hear that he often works with my Betters with the utmost of care. I'd suggest that you send him message? He's quite responsive. -- Are you looking for anything in particular today? Either of you?"
Margot nods slightly, "Indeed you should tell me about it at some time Mistress Acacia, and about your travels. I am always curious about those who have seen more of the world than those of us who are always in the same place. But thank you for the recommendation. I have sent word to Master Malavaunt but not heard back as of yet unfortunately. Which is a pity, I have a pile of coin in the bank just waiting to be spent."
Gareth will just give Acacia a blank stare before his left brow ticks up ever so slightly in response ot her words. "I see you are taking your life quie seriously, as well as your trade." Gareth will soon twist his lips all the more visibly into a frown then as he considers what to say next, though he'll hesitate when Margot speaks, offering only a slight nod in respone. "Have you met this Master Malvaunt, Lady Margot? I've personally not had the pleasure myself." He'll look then to Acacia again. "What does he look like? And how much did you expect to pay for a decent set of leathers? Not too.. extravagent I assume?" Gareth will inquire then as his left hand clenches and unclenches into a fist.
The hammer flies! Thump it lands in a shower of earth and sand further down the lane. Victus grunts in satisfaction, though he does bark out to the young kid keeping score: "Don't count that one. But let me know if anyone beats it, eh?" The slap of his hand on the kid's shoulder is solid enough to send the poor boy stumbling, for all it doesn't seem to have been done with purpose. The Thraxian is already turning away, brushing off his hands against his pants.
Cain rubs the back of his head. He glances in the direction of Acacia, Gareth and Margot and back to Arianwen. He gives the stage a dubious glance. "Well, if I had the money I'd totally bid on you," he flashes her a grin. "But I don't really have any skills I can showcase, I'm not sure talking pretty when I'm not talking to them would get you much. And what if nobody buys me? How is my heart going to take that?" He says, sounding a little too dramatic. "But yes, like Acacia I'm here to support and all that good stuff." He leans in to whisper to her.
"Ahh-- well, he looks like a skilled tanner, your Highness," Acacia answers towards Gareth, her grin broadening slightly as she expands her hands a bit haplessly. "I first met him acquaintance at one of the Rites of Gloria, in fact. The Sword announced his work himself, as token to him, to everyone in the crowds. As for taking my life seriously--" There's the slightest glint in Acacia's dark eyes as she answers the Inquisitor with a formal air, undiluted by flare, the bolder gaze obscured for a moment by the deliberate dip of her lashes, "Of course, I'd want to look out for the people, your Highness. As we all should."

Straightening once more, she passes a charming, though partially lopsided smile towards Margot, "If you would grant me audience at some point in the future, Lady Margot, I would be most appreciative. In honesty, when I first had the honor of meeting Prince Dagon, he spoke exceptionally highly of you. I believe we were talking about theatre at the time. He was wondering if you would enjoy it."

And then, towards them both, she responds, a regretful hand curled gallantly at her sternum, "But forgive me for not knowing his prices or habits better. It's likely from the advertisements shouted from him, that he was merely busy. If I run into him personally? I'll certainly shed a few harsh words, your Highness, your Ladyship-- if only so you don't have to. Unless you'd like to?"
Margot looks to Gareth with a shake of her head, "I don't need a set of leather exactly, but I wish to have a cloak made for a friend before the weather turns cold." She pauses and lifts her head hearing the thud of the hammer. "And likely should have one made for myself. Maybe white rabbit fur." She pauses to consider Acacia, "That's very kind of you to say, and no need to be harsh on my behalf Mistress. I am in no rush. We should indeed meet soon, perhaps you can accompany me at the Ebb and Flow one eve?" She nods and then looks up to the Inquisitor. "Well you should go watch the competition, though I am afraid I have to excuse myself, I have been away from my work for a bit too long."
Clapping can be heard near Victus when he manages to toss that hammer impressively far, smiling upon his return. "That was excellent, My Lord. But as expected." Arianwen grins, only to return to the conversation at hand. Turning towards Cain, she giggles and replies, "your charitable heart is all that's truly needed. The silver's simply appreciated if and when someone with deep enough pockets arrives." She smirks at him, shrugging her shoulders, "well, at the worst, I'd be happy to buy you for myself..." Hearing his whisper, she chuckles and bobs her head, starry eyes bright as can be, "indeed, indeed..."
Victus approaches Gareth and Acacia as Margot makes to leave. He grunts out a greeting, eyes stalking the Culler and the Inquisitor primarily. A heavy hand rubs against the curve of his bearded jawline, thoughtfully. "See you've decided to come and scare off the fucking children," he remarks to Gareth, gruff tone and a snort blown out for good measure. To which he adds, laconic: "The ones that didn't already bold at a look at my fucking face, eh?" Though to be fair, there are quite a few children about. Even with Gareth's cold eyes and Victus' glowers. Finally he adds a: "Margot," to the blonde Lady Tyde, too.
"Of course Lady Margot, One must always mind their duties." Gareth will state easily enough as he offers a slight bob of his head to the woman before his gaze turns to look to Acacia then, offering a grimace and sigh. "You seem even more spirited then the last time we spoke, Culler. I can only wonder to what nefarious behaviors you are getting up to at this momment.. or perhaps you are just hoping to get into my good graces?" Gareth states then as his shoulders tense a bit, though he slowly forces himself into a calm state. "
(OOC) Gareth says: no " at the end there
(OOC) Gareth says: and missed that victus, bleh
"Lord Victus Thrax. I am impressed you managed to gather so many people here in one place. Were you so dedicated in all your works, I might even think you'd be worthy of Highlordship. Quite a scary thought that."
Cain looks at Victus, impressed and joins Arianwen in her clapping. Which is more like him hitting the palm of the hand that still holds his cups. Remembering such, the man drinks from it. "Nice toss, my lord," the amber-eyed man calls toward Victus after Ariawen's words to him. When he looks at the woman, it's with a dubious expression. "I'm pretty sure I've never been called charitable. In my life. I think maybe Acacia, once, but it was part of a long winded insult that I barely remember. Like, charitable asshole something something," he explains.
"I would love that, my Lady. I thank you for your consideration and grace." After a secondary bow, deeply made, Acacia rises with an effortless smile which soon turns into a grin. "If you'll both excuse me then myself-- I'd hate to interrupt more than I--" Dark eyes rove towards Victus at his approach, her quick grin at his words schooled immediately after into a lighter blink towards Gareth. Lofting her shoulders in casual shrug, she explains, "Forgive me, your Highness. It must be the festivities. Where one should be sober-- I'll be sober. Refined-- refined. Here and now? If the crowds are loud, shouldn't I join them? How else would one blend, but not taint?" Pitching a look over her shoulder towards that throw of the hammer, she admits simply, "I'm not sure that I'd be able match that hammer throw. In fact, I'm not sure I can lift that hammer. But perhaps I'll try for the sake of festivities. See, your Highness-- we all must at least try, yes?"
Margot nods to Victus as she makes to depart then steps away, back towards the more civilized portions of the city.
(OOC) Margot says: snugs all lunch time!
(OOC) Victus says: Ciao, Margot!
Margot is leaving Arx - Upper Boroughs - The Outrage, heading for Arx - Upper Boroughs - Traders Home.
"Heh," is what Victus has to say for Gareth's praise of his skills at gathering people together. "What can I say? Us Thraxians are all about the fucking good times. Saw you looking at the wares. See anything you like?" His blunt stare meets Acacia's head on. He seizes up her bodylanguage, her posture, her expression, and then measures it against Gareth's presence. A grunt tears itself free of his throat. "I'd like to see that." The hammer throw by the little red head. "It ain't all in the strength anyway. Its in the hips and the shoulders. Try not to lose control and brain someone, though."
"Well see? I'm not even the first to call you charitable." Arianwen winks at that, grinning teasingly. She adds, "come. You should meet some of the nobility that have arrived to enjoy these festivities." With that, she moves to approach Victus and therefore the others he converses with, starry eyes gleeful all throughout. Dipping into a respectful curtsy, she declares, "My Lords. My Ladies. Allow me to present Cain of the Boroughs. Cain, this is Lord Victus Thrax, Prince err...Gareth? Gareth Grayson. And Princess Margot..." The faintest of embarrassed blushes, "Tyde, I do believe." With a small smirk towards Victus and his taking of all the praise, she nevertheless moves on to say, "for those unaware, I am Arianwen Grayhope, courtesan and protege of this here Lord Thrax."
(OOC) Victus says: margot left. <.<
(OOC) Arianwen says: oh, oops. I'm sure she made a gracious farewell to Cain first! :P
"Yes, we must all try our hand in time, but sometimes an honest effort can do more to hurt a man than save him." Gareth responds to Acacia then, as his hand moves to his heart. "I am pleased with your progress however." Gareth will offer then as he looks to Victus once more. "I will not be participating in this Hammer throw, Lord Thrax. I will be keeping my distance from some of the more violent events as well. As for seeing anything I like.. well." He'll pause to consider then, staring off in the distance at something unseen before he starts to chortle creepily. "Yes. yes I've seen something quite interesting actually, a few things. My dearest friend, I'm sure you know it's getting about time that I call upon your word again." He'll state, smiling slightly.
Acacia's standing poise loiters at the cusp of being relaxed, tainted by that modest effort in needful decorum when in the presence of Gareth, and now Victus. But her hand anchors still to the curve of her hip as she casts a look back towards the challenge of the hammer throw, chin uptilted, she relents, bemused, "If I brain someone on accident by a bad showing, please allow me to steal one of those working for you as witness that I likely didn't -intend- to do so, Lord Victus." Although the inclination she makes acknowledging Arianwen is undoubtedly a respectful one, her eyes easily catch onto Cain. "When you're done making your rounds of greeting, join me throwing hammers and not braining people, love." Presenting a bow, rather than curtsey, she straightens, she has the audacity to wink at Gareth, her grin only flickering slightly upon the sides at his newfound humor, "I've yet to meet a hero of the common people, your Highness. But with words like that, I hope I find one soon. Until then."
"But--. Wai--. Okaaay," Cain protests, tries to protest, and finally concedes to Arianwen with slouching release of his breath. He hooks both his thumbs around his belt and walks after the courtesan, swallowing. Once they reach the nobles, he flashes a winning smile at them and then rubs the back of his head. "Y'lordship-s," he offers, awkwardly and adds a bow that ends in a flourish. "Pleasure to meet you and all that," he says. "One such as me doesn't get to run into two such as you very often, not at all," he muses, sparing a glance in Acacia's direction.

"I... can join you now? Tossing hammers sounds like a fun thing to do," he muses.
"Good, then you'll spread the good fucking word," Victus says to Gareth in what isn't a question, so much as a statement with a weight to it, putting the man on the spot. He half turns towards Arianwen and Cain when the courtesan makes her introduction. A hard stare takes in the lower borough born man. He grunts out a greeting in turn, flat and neutral rather than with any real enthusiasm. His stony expression remains as it is. After a moment he drags out something vaguely sociable: "Enjoy the feast." And a vague gesture shoos the fellow to join Acacia and dismiss the commoners to have fun without the pressure of keeping up appearances before the nobility.



His attention returns to Gareth. "My word, eh? Sure. When you keep yours."
Chuckling softly, Arianwen comments, "I wish you luck, Mistress Culler. I fear I'd be far more likely to brain someone, than even place the hammer where it's meant to go." She smiles to have Cain introduced to the nobles, commenting on the side, "this celebration is partially to bring the nobility and commoners closer together. I only wish there were greater highborn turnout..." As Victus and Gareth interact, she arches a brow curiously at the odd exchange, glancing between them quietly. Best to ask her patron about this some other time, after all. In any case, she turns her attention to the hammer toss, perhaps shifting a bit behind Victus in case Acacia swings a tad too wide.
(OOC) Victus says: isnt it supposed to be the other way around? commoner takes the hammer for the important person?
(OOC) Victus says: <.<
"I am a Grayson, a House known for its virtue and civic duty, Lord Thrax." Gareth states rather dryly. "Perhaps I had misjudged you as a man of character and steel. One who actually had some sense of justice for that which was lost." Gareth states tehn as his hands come behind his back, his gaze studying the man carefully. "I can see the rumors now. Someone can steal something from House Thrax and just get away with it. What else can people get away with?" Gareth will start to chortle then before he looks to the man, chin raising slightly. "Considering I still havn't managed to get an invite to the rest of your house as well, I should amend that we both have strings that need to be tugged still, don't we?" Acacia will then get a glance again before he states. "Yes, there might be someone out there who will fight for the common man, but I hope that until that day comes.. people will at least remember their own obligations." Cain and Arianwen for the most part have somehow escaped his attention
(OOC) Acacia says: Details.
"Many thanks, Mistress Arianwen." For all her talk about heroes, Acacia watches Gareth a bit too intently, dips her head, and seemingly has no issues with attempting to save Cain. The slap of her palm lightly claps upon his shoulder as she pivots to swagger back through the crowds and spare him a grin aside. "Ahh, yes. The true goal of your heart-- to throw a hammer. But, without thought into the rhyme, so don't judge me-- your stammer was cute," she goads him, the snerk normalized once she rounds with intent towards where Victus once threw the hammer. By the time she makes it over there, she's managed to procure another cup of ale, though she sips on it rather than risk a solid public sloshing at such an event.

"Besides. I need someone else to look equally as bad as me in case I drop this on someone's foot. You'll still take hits for me, won't you, love?"
"Y'lordships," Cain offers with another flourishing bow. He swiftly joins Acacia and coughs when he feels that slap of his hand on his shoulder, trying to shoulder check her in turn. "I assure you, dear. It's been the dream of my childhood to toss that hammer, to feel that moment where I stop being a boy and become a man," he tells her, with a grin.

"I thought my stammer was adequately respectful. And a good show of how intimidating men of power are," Cain argues with his companion, amused. He still has his cup, which he drinks from. "Did I ever stop taking hits from you? Because someone failed to send me a messenger about it, if I did," he mutters. "Try not to do that thing on a nobleman's foot. I rather not take the lashes for you too."
Victus gives Gareth a sideways look, flat, measuring. Half his attention is on the activities of the hammer throwing contest, though, even if his posture is relaxed and at ease rather than ready to leap out of the way of possible mis throws. "I passed on your wishes. Uncle's aware of you." From the sound of his voice, having Donrai, Prince of Thrax, aware of your existence is not, perhaps, usually a good thing. "And currently what the Graysons stand.." What he meant to continue with, is chewed off and swallowed back down. They are in public, after all. He grimaces.



"Give me something useful, and I'll see you in front of the Voice, if nothing else."
(OOC) Victus says: not bad at all!
"... It's a big fucking hammer. You can't blame me for that," The slight jolt of Cain's shoulder has Acacia fluidly swaying with the pressure invoked, another bit of laughter escaping her at the idle shake of her head. Imposing herself towards the front, she watches a larger man chuck the hammer in a manner which suggests he was probably made for it and then narrows her eyes skeptically. Engaging in a bit more liquid courage, she decides, "All you have to do is beat me. If you lose--" There's another squint of her eyes, before she waggles a finger towards a table of sea-borne delicacies, "See that... purple-- squishy-- sticky-- uncooked little baby octopus thing over there? The one with the glazed, googly eyes? You have to slurp that down before we head home."

Tonguing at her cheek once more, Acacia steps up towards the line, hefting the weight of the hammer with her palm a bit dubiously. Invoking a dramatic slip of her hand, she uses the threat to eye anyone standing too close to her to back off a bit. "Hips and-- what? Ahh, fuck it." And then she's stepping forward, eyes narrowed, before she chucks it with a lack of experience, but full intent. It doesn't make it nearly as far as Victus' practice throw had, but it isn't explicitly slouchy either. No one gets brained.
Arianwen purses her lips worriedly to continue listening in on the exchange between Gareth and Victus, brow knitting in mild confusion about matters apparently beyond her. Starry eyes glimmer with curiosity, but she does not dare interject. If nothing else, she seems like she almost wants to stop any kind of potential altercation, worry written along her brow, but remains voiceless regardless. Instead, while keeping Victus between her and the swinging hammers, she watches the competition. Placing a smile on her pale features, she at least affords the contestants a couple of cheerful claps.
"The voice alone is it?" Gareth states as his gaze soon follows Victus's own, watching the hamemr toss from afaraway as he can manage. "And what would you do with the knowledge I give you, Lord Thrax?" Gareth states then simply, "Would you honestly expect me to share it with you just so that I can get the help I need to solve THE crimes of this compact?" Gareth mutters under his breath. "Either you take me for a fool or an idiot, Lord Thrax." Gareth states dryly as his hands come up to tap at his temple then as he looks to the man beside him. "If I offered tidbits to everyone I met, the criminal would know the extent of my progress. You learn nothing, becuase everyone demands the same of me, and if I indulge a Lord of Thrax, what of a duke? A Marquis? A Prince? An Archduchess?"
"I can blame you for everything and anything," Cain casually proclaims. "Not that I think you'll care mind you," he concedes. He watches that larger man in front of them let go that hammer and puts his hand to his brow over his amber eyes while he watches the toss. He drinks from his own cup. Like his companion, he drinks, before setting his cup down and rubbing his hands together.

"What purple--Wait that thing? You want me to eat that thing?" He narrows his eyes. "This sounds like a horrible wager. But fine, if I win, you owe me a fucking date. And there's no getting out of that one. A true to honest date. None of the, let's go skip rocks at the lake, so I can push Cain into it," he mutters. "Like an actual date. With drink, and dinner. And I want like a flower or something," he gestures with his hands.

He watches Acacia and narrows his eyes as she throws the thing. He rubs his face when she makes her throw. "Okay," he says to himself, breathing in. "Okaaay," he repeats, psyching himself up. "I can do this shit," he still talks to himself, nodding. "Yeah, I can do this shit," he makes his way to the hammer to toss. "Fucking yeah I can do this shit!" He exclaims and pounds at his chest and grabs that hammer and after a spin...! He lets it go. It flies.

And flies.

And passes Acacia's throw.

And wow, it keeps going... until it lands. It's a decent throw. Cain looks at it, dubiously. And then suddenly he snaps his fingers at Acacia. "And that! Is how you fucking do it," he says, trying to hip check her.
"Blablablah," Victus says sourly, making a yapping motion with his hand in front of his lips. "I hear a lot of fucking words and promises, but they mean shit. What will I do? Know that you're not just wasting my fucking time. What do I take you for? Possibly complicit. Possibly incompetent." He makes a rough gesture with his hand. "Make of that as you fucking will. We can have the rest of this fucking conversation elsewhere, at another time."



He glances over his shoulder at Arianwen, then grimaces. "Bah. More high born would mean more fucking politics. I think I'll settle for what we have." His broad arms fold over his chest as he turns his eyes fully on the hammer throwing again. He blinks. "That fucker just leveled with me," he breathes out, part annoyance. Part? "Pass him fifty silver," he tells Arianwen. "Whether he wins one of the prizes or not."
Gareth will offer a slight shrug then in response to Victus, apparently not at all preturbed by his response, though instead almost smug, amused even. He'll step back then and offer a slight bow to Victus before his eyes pass over ARianwen, giving her a suspicious glare before offering a shake of his head. "I worry for the company you keep, Lord Victus." He'll state dryly before moving beyond t hem and towards the side, giving the entire group assembled a decent space to enjoy.. without a scarred INquisitor poking into their business
(OOC) Gareth is chowing down so ignore me
Arianwen winces to hear Victus bluntly insult and wave off the Lord Inquisitor, but even then she remains silent. A frown forms along her features when Gareth glares at her, deciding it prudent to simply duck her head and take Victus' pouch of silver, "of...of course, My Lord..." She hesitates to move away, only shuffling towards Acacia and Cain with some reluctance. By the time she arrives however, she's managed a smile, "congratulations on your date with Mistress Culler, Cain." She leans towards him, whispering in his ear as she hands him the coins.
"Pfffftt." Acacia's hand snaps out to slap Cain's snapping one away, frequent glances made back to where the hammer had sunk into the dirt, as if maybe if she stared hard enough that it would sprout legs and move. "Fuck," she finally acknowledges, without buffer this time, sucking on her lower lip as she grudgingly asserts. "It was good. I didn't think you'd have it in you." Attempting to hook her arm about Cain's shoulders once he's been awarded with the prize, she draws in a slow breath, "Kay. Let's go steal a boat then." Pausing, a glance around her surroundings cast briefly, she corrects amiably, "Borrow a boat. Let's go borrow a boat then. And really-- tossing you into the water was just a slip. My boots slipped! What can a girl do?" Another grin is shared to him with familiarity, steps wending through the crowds.
(OOC) Acacia says: Thanks for the event!
"At least I'm not trying to recruit half-wit lower borough criminals, eh?" is Victus' harsh response in Gareth's direction when the man makes his insinuation. He blows out a scoffing sound, not bothering to acknowledge the bow the cripple makes him. Wearing a scowl, he stares death upon the poor common folk that are enjoying their time soaking up Thraxian cuisine and staring at the seaborn wares, and playing games and drinking and just having fun. His hand comes up to scrub against his jaw twice as hard as before, running his nails against the cruel scars that have marred what might otherwise have been a handsome visage. Proof that helmets are not just for show. You don't want your face to get poked by sharp steel implements if you can avoid it.



One of his guardsmen slips out of the crowd to lean in and whisper something in Victus' ear. He's dismissed again soon after, though. To blend, the man isn't in armor, but does still carry an awfully sharp sword. He remains close enough to intervene if his lord is bothered too much by the common riff raff.
(OOC) Victus says: ciao acacia!
(OOC) Arianwen waves :)
Cain offers a dramatic bow to Arianwen, "Thank you, thank you," he says and flashes her a grin at the whisper. He holds the money up and then lets Acacia hook him by the shoulders. "Steal a B--That's not a date, that's so not a date. Come on," he protests, as she drags him away. "You're totally pushing me back in the water aren't you? Aren't you..." his words trail off as they disappear through the crowds.
Acacia is leaving Arx - Upper Boroughs - The Outrage, heading for Arx - Upper Boroughs - Traders Home.
Cain is leaving Arx - Upper Boroughs - The Outrage, heading for Arx - Upper Boroughs - Traders Home.
Gareth's brow will lift slightly before he smirks in response to Victus before shaking his head. "if you cannot see the value in having someone who doesn't understand half the things being said to him in my line of work.. then you clearly do not understand my line of work, Lord Victus." Gareth will respond before moving a hand to rub at the back of his neck as he peers over to the hammer toss spot
Arianwen offers the couple a farewell curtsy, before returning to her patron's side. Glancing up at Victus, she hooks a hand around his arm and says, "come on. Let's go mingle some more. I saw a delicious looking lobster with your name on it. And if I can't convince anyone to donate or auction themselves off, then you're going to help me find some entertainment in this great festival of ours." She bows her head curtly towards Gareth, "Your Highness. Enjoy the celebrations."
Victus gives Gareth a look, a frown, and then a disagreeing grunt that suggests he was making a different point. What the point might have been, the oft taciturn warlord doesn't expand on, though. Instead he allows Arianwen to slip her arm into his, and guide him away into the festivities. His first stop is to acquire some more ale, mind. Definitively more ale, and some of the fresh oyster, too, just for a flavor of the clean salty ocean on his tongue. Well. We hope its clean, and that they weren't picked right downstream from a big city.



"Heard some decent song earlier," he says, finally.
(OOC) Victus says: question! Does Gareth intend on bidding on Arianwen? If not, I suggest this is a good place to fade to black, and call it an evening on the event!
(OOC) Gareth says: Gareth would probably not bid on Arianwen >.> I mean if he loses he'll lose to thrax, and god forbid he win
(OOC) Victus says: ha.
(OOC) Arianwen snickers.
(OOC) Arianwen cools. So fade the scene here then? :)
(OOC) Gareth says: anyway, thanx for the scene you two
(OOC) Gareth says: sounds good to me
(OOC) Arianwen says: thank you too!
(OOC) Victus says: You too!