Teiddwen the Otter, A fiery headed prodigal named Gwddfgwyn arrive, following Asger.

Angwyn the otter, 2 Armed Confessors, Mordred, Abner arrive, following Ann.

Kieran is sitting next to Violet, joining in on thr laughter as he takes the cigarette from her and enjoys a long draw. Horror story? I only have funny and cheery stories to tell. I have onky been in combat twice in my life. Not enough for any horror stories."

A fairly fat Ann manages to beat Asger down to the Black Hall, wearing a loose black dress with a high waist. She's not exactly at the smuggling watermelons stage, but she's nearing it. "I need those bacon wrapped pickles that have been deep fried and dipped in beer with the extra hot cheese dipping sauce - yes, thank you Gwen." She heaves herself into a chair, smiling at everyone, "Why hello, a good turn out I think. Welcome to my home, I'm Ann."

Waldemai bobs his head. "Waldemai Isenhu, my lady," he introduces himself. "I'm a master smith."

a black robed Silent Reflection arrives, following Driskell.

Oswyn pulls out the chair he nearly bumped into, seating himself at one of the tables and pulling out a large journal, a quill, and a bottle of ink. He looks in Ann's direction and offers a close-lipped smile. "Thank you for having us, Duchess."

Kieran looks up at his cousin as she arrices asking for pickes that have had odd things done to them. "Oh my. Poor cousin Ann. She already had poor taste in things before, but now..." He tsks and looks to Violet, "So what horror story are you sharing?"

The Black Hall is loud and festive this evening with warriors sitting along the great tables, drinking from great tankards of ale and talking amongst themselves in a mixture of Northlands Shav and Arvani. While there is life there is booze! Or so seems to be the dictate of the the servants tonight making sure there isn't a dry cup in the house, refilling them just as the last drop is emptied. The Duke is fashionably late this evening, strolling into his hall clad only in his leather pants and boots with the tableau of shav tats that cover his chest bared for the world to see. With a big grin he addresses the hall as he strides for his seat at the head of the table "It is good to see you my friends, and even better to see you have gotten started on the drinking." with a deep hearty laugh rumbling its way from him he entreats his guests "Drink and enjoy yourselves for we've certainly earned tonight." With a broad sweeping gesture he asks "Who would like to be the first to tell tale of what they've done to earn this drink?"

Through the Black Hall come two figures draped in black robes, the hulking figure wearing a twisted demonic visage of a mirrormask and the lead figure with the hood over its head casting the entirety of it in shadow. And like a shadow, the one perhaps known as Driskell moves amongst the bawdy storytellers as they finally stand off to the side to witness the exploits that will be told today. Folks aren't as cheerful around him, but hey, it gives space.

Fianna is sitting in a chair near her family and swirling the contents of a pint, grinning down at her drink as she does. Dressed in a sleeveless cream colored top, fitted trous, and boots, she's leaning back in her chair when her brother, Asger, enters the room. Her drink is then lifted in 'cheers' after his entrance and she takes a hearty swig of ale as she settled to listen to the first tale.

Violet raises her cup for a fill, shooting the servant a smile. But Kieran draws her attention to Ann as she enters. The face she makes upon hearing the Duchess; request is tempered, but she clearly would have to be bribed to eat it. Of course she pops up to give Ann and Asger a quick bow, before plopping back into her seat. She takes the small rolled cigarette back from him. Good thing they're across the hall from the pregnant lady. "Oh...I've a few to choose from. We'll see what the order is tonight. I could go full out horror, or light and funny," She replies.

Signe's darting into the Black Hall, still barefoot and with a very excited husky, Atila, just a breath on her heels. Someday she'll arrive early for an event in the city. Catching the introduction to start the evening's tales with ale, the shaman visibly exhales a sign of relief. She wasn't -that- late. Signe shoots out a hand, "I bathed Tempest -and- Atila today! I wasn't so lucky to get Blitz in the waters but that at least deserves a drink!" She answers just before noticing the black robed frigure, Brother Driskell, thickled a fuzzy memory. The shaman squints, brows wrinkling in a visible effort to think, hard.

Ale is for bold warriors! Oswyn is not one of those, and so he does not have ale. Unless NOT having ale would be rude, in which case, telling him that is a great way to get him to drink some ale. He carefully writes the date in his journal.

Ann turns to look at the black robed figures and a smile grows across her face, suspecting she knows who that is, but says nothing. Not yet. "It's an honor to have you all here tonight. I'm afraid I haven't got many stories to share - I've not seen much war, personally, but I do enjoy a good tale - Oswyn, it's nice to see a Scholar here taking notes. How proactive of you. I hope you find something interesting here tonight. Violet, good to see you again... Fianna! I can't believe you made it down - I hope you're feeling better?" She pauses and looks to Kieran with another warm smile, "Long time no see." She looks to Signe, "And I have seen you around, but I don't know if we've been properly introduced. I'm Ann, it's nice to meet you."

Kaldur is the kind of drunk that hasn't quite registered. Gestures a little bigger. Volume a little louder. Smile a little bigger - and that's saying something. He's game to rise to the Duke's challenge, rising to his feet, "Good evening to the Duke and Duchess, and the Dutchling, there," he gestures at Ann's belly. "It wasn't too long ago," he launches right in, "On a patrol, that your own Lady Fianna's pupil, Dumpling," he pauses, blinking, "And never a finer horse trod Arvum," he continues, "Slew two men, stove their skulls right in all on her lonesome. To Dumpling! And Lady Fianna!" He bangs his mug, it sloshes, and he tips the thing back.

Kieran spots the black-robed figure and squints. "Why do I suddenly feel.like books are talking to me?"

Waldemai fingers the hammer stuck though his belt. "Fought some pirates once...down towards the Eastern Island."

Then, she turns to the Master Smith, rubbing her tummy as the food arrives, curiously, "Waldemai? We haven't met yet but I have heard of you -- you own the Champion Chainmail store, correct? In the Lycene Ward. Is everything working out there alright - I bet your services are in high demand?" Ann asks curiously

Asger settles down into his seat and cracks a wry grin as he looks around "Well then I guess I'll start off since we seem to be slow and I'll give y'all a chance to catch up in drinking with me." No sooner is a tankard set before Asger then he is quaffing down the heady dark ale and wiping the foam from his beard with the back of his hand "So about five years back we were having a banditry problem towards the southern edge of our lands, so I got a group of my boys together and hid them in the back of a wagon and set out to bait us some bandits." The man gesturing around the hall with his mug as he lets his genius plan sink in "So there we were travelin' through the black woods calm as could be when out of nowhere a hail of arrows came down from the trees stickin' the horses like they were a seamstress' pin cushion. They were good beasties but they died instantly." clanking his tankard against the table in memory of the horses he brings it back up to take a swig before continuing "So thirty of the biggest, meanest bastards I'd seen in a while came out from behind the trees and asked me if I was ready to meet the gods." unable to help but chuckle Asger shakes his head "Obvious they had come from the ill patrolled Grayson lands and thus no match for the cold Crovane steel we carried. So it was a smile on me lips and song in me heart that I told them they'd be the only ones meeting the gods, and with that my five boys sprung out from hiding and we set upon them."

Violet checked dexterity + stealth at difficulty 15, rolling 3 lower.

Waldemai agrees with the Duchess, as he should of course. "Absolutely, my lady," he says. He quiets down to hear the story.

Fianna perks when she hears familiar names like Atila and Blitz, then spots Signe with her dog entering the Hall. "Atila!" There's a wave for Signe as well and then her drink is lifted in her other hand in greeting -- oh wait, looks like she needs a refill. The server promptly fills the pint and Fianna leans forward to rest elbows on the table and swig her drink. "Feeling better, yes!" To Ann, that. She's in mid swig when Kaldur's story snags her attention and her cheekbones tinge red. "Me? Oh!"

Oswyn smiles in Ann's direction, though he doesn't say anything. He starts to write when Kaldur speaks, but blinks when the tale is apparently very short. His spirits buoy some when Asger talks and keeps talking. Oswyn dutifully takes down notes, smiling in Signe's direction. Hopefully Signe's direction.

Wait...where did Violet go? Oh there she is. CREeeeaaaaAAaak. She shoots Asger an apologetic look. She was trying to slip out quietly after her assstant, but...*CRASH* "Frec," There goes a chair. "Sorry!" And she rights the chair before slinking out the exit red as a tomato.

Signe's practically yanked her attention away from the robed figure, "Yes? Oh, right... Thank you Duchess Ann for sharing your ale and hearth." Introductions shared the shaman touches a hand to her chest, briefly. "Signe Nightgold, your a Spirit Walker as well." Cue the rise of a forced smile summoned when Kieran mentions books, "I think there was more than just books Prince Kieran." Signe's trying to conceal a finger pointing at the masked figure would mouthing the words silently, 'shadow talking'.

2 Crimson Blades Sergeant, Erin, Crimson Blades Private, Jin, Cranky Crimson Blades Sergeant, Gale, The Mighty Pupper, 2 Crimson Blades Lieutenant leave, following Violet.

Signe checked composure + stealth at difficulty 15, rolling 2 higher.

Kieran watches Violet try to sneak out and fail. He holds onto the Haze stick andncontinuesnto smoke it. He grabs Violet's drink that was left behind and waves to Signe as she arrives with her hounds.

There's a monotone and dry voice that raises from somewhere after the Duke speaks, although a few near Driskell are looking its way uncomfortably to the hooded figure.
"A land crowned with the majesty of snowcapped mountains and sleeping giants of stone with roots deep into the earth. Of a people that have the very elements desiring to clutch and grip them in freezing ice and give them the long dreamless sleep. Where the very wind itself howls like the wolves, or of great northern ice bears that lumber through the dark forests. Of a people that rise up unyielding who understand that life is meant to be lived, that life is short and thought story can you connect the present to the past? Where a Northern Queen forced those who fought against her to bend the knee? Surely there's stories of those who have fought against the darkness to the east at Stormwall, of the terrors that leapt from nightmarish dreams and into reality. The dead may be dead, but their spirits whisper their stories and their memories live on. Come, Northmen and Northwomen. Surely you can tell the tales and make the fires rise up not just in the pits, but in your hearts and re-kindle that passion of -why- you fight. Have you lost your fire? Do you not remember those who fought and died with you? Share.....share the stories."

Waldemai thinks about it and says, "We fought them because they were pirates and they'd been taking ship. Duchess Calypso sailed us up to them, and we jumped down onto the decks of their ships and gave them whatfor." He smacks the head of his hammer.

Asger raises his tankard to Driskell, "My friend that is a good point and after the other guests have had a chance to share their tales, I will tell you the story of my people. The story of how we took Stormwall and slaughtered the betrayer and his kin."

a fire salamander arrives, delivering a message to Ann before departing.

Fianna will drink when Asger mentions the dead horses in his story and cringes soon afterward. Poor beasties! She might need another pint of ale in their honor. She then motions for Lord Kaldur to come sit next to her since there's an empty chair that needs to be filled.

a fire salamander arrives, delivering a message to Ann before departing.

Oswyn keeps writing; he's not offering up any stories of his own. His quill scratches quietly over the surface of the book's paper, with the occasional pause to top up his ink.

Kaldur nods, face grave, at the entreaty from the somber, dark-robed figure. He looks around for how folk will respond to the entreaty and blinks at the bright creature that darts to and fro to Ann, his lips pursing thoughtfully. He smiles at Fianna and weaves his way to her, settling. He gestures with an empty mug at the salamander. "I think I know that critter." His outstretched and empty mug attracts the attention of a servant, who sees it filled. "Oh." He nods in thanks, "Handy, that." He looks dutifully at the assemblage, interested to know where the tale-telling bar lies, since his foray was wanting. "Oh. Cheers." He nods to Fianna, grinning. He may have missed a bit. To her, "You seem to be feeling better."

Ann looks distracted by a salamander for a moment, perplexed at a series of messages and then her eyes dart up at the mysterious robed figure knowingly, glancing to Fianna and then to Kaldur, who she has failed to address, lifting her brows, "Oh I did your your message Lord Kaldur - I was on a bit of a holiday for the past two weeks, and I'm desperately trying to get caught up. There's been a few things I'm trying to get done..." She shakes her head, "Mostly reading the news, wondering why everything interesting happens when I'm asleep or away!" She raises her shoulders, "Me next. I only have one very very short story to tell. During the War of Silence, I was a medic on the battle field. A Bringer was bearing down on me as I was kneeling, I remember I was reaching for my tourniquet when I saw him. It was too late - he was bringing his sword up, and Baron Stormbreak took the bite of the blade for me. He still has the scar, and it makes all the women swoon, I'm sure." She winks playfully

Vale, A Baby Arctic Fox, Pearl, A Baby Arctic Wolf arrive, following Clara.

Kieran has joined the line.

Fianna nods to Kaldur and takes a swig of her drink with a grin. "I am. This is exactly what I needed." She looks a little surprised that he and Ann know each other, which has her grinning even brighter. "You've met? Good! Have you met my brother Asger yet?" A nod is given toward the Duke right as the next story starts.

Asger nods his head along with Ann's story and claps his tankard down against the table in applause for the story well told "Aye scars is how you get women, scars and wrestling sharks." licking his lips he looks over the crowd "Now I know I said I'd tell about the glorious rise of Clanlord Aegir Crovane, the betrayal of the Proudwoods and the slaughter that launched the decade war against the compact, but my friends I think you need to hear about the time I wrestled a shark." Bringing back the drinking vessel he takes several long gulps from it before lowering it once more and gesturing to Kieran "But before you start thinkin' I'm self centered and want to woo approximately all the ladies with tales of shark wrestling and biting one to death I want to hear one from the Prince."

Signe takes a few steps that bring her closer to an unoccupied chair, somewhat near Kieran. She sets both hands to rest atop the back of the chair, leaning her weight against it which cause both shoulders to rise higher than usual. She's listening, her gaze floats to each speaker with an occasional wary glance given to the black robed figure.

Kieran perks up as he is volunteered to give a story. "Oh no. Us princes don't have any interesting stories. We stay cooped up in fortresses, surrounded by boring, decadent lixury, never risking adventure, and always doing what's proper." He rnds this statement eith another long drag of the Haze cigarette. At least he does it in a very proper manner and doesn't blow smoke on anyone.

Wearing black leather pants, Clara makes her way into the hall covered drying mud and hay. She looks happy as could be despite the fact that her shirt is sliced open at the stomach and the light colored fabric is stained with a touch of blood. The side of her face is also bruised and scratched up, lip split at the corner. Clearly she had been fighting in some capacity and just as clearly... she had no idea they were expecting guests tonight. She pauses at the end of the hall, shrugs at her own state, and makes her way towards the crowd leaving dirty prints on the floor. "Brother, sister, new sister, Princes, Lords, and other folks. Nice ta see ya. What do we have goin' on tanight?"

Asger laughs and calls to Clara "Sister we are drinking and sharing tales of battle and prowess, with more then a little bit of bragging thrown in." gesturing back to Kieran with his tankard he says "Kieran you're as proper as lycene duel. I'm not buying that you don't have a story for a moment, drink and share my friend."

Kieran looks to Clara as she enters and just watches, holding in a puff of smoke. Blowing it out of his nostrils, he states, "I vote we let her tell a story. She already has a cut and looks like she was in a fight."

"Seliki's regard to Crovane." Kaldur rises to his feet at Ann's address, "It's good to make your acquaintance beyond messengers, m'lady." Kaldur bows over a hand folded to his belly. He settles again beside Fianna, "Good to hear." He's about to say more when Clara arrives. Her state gives him some mild alarm, but when no one registers any concern he sits back to hear the prince's tale. Or Clara's.

Kaldur has joined the line.

Turn in line: Kaldur

"It ain't cool when the Prince tackles ya fer stories the moment ya walk in the door." Clara does her best to sneak in a revenge hug, clearly trying to share the misfortune of mud with Kieran. Though... for a second her white eyes rest upon Asger like she might have instead attempted the hug with him... and then decided better of it. "It was just a little misunderstanding in the bar that lead to someone else being arrested. It was fun."

Kieran looks ti Asger, "Well there was this particularly tough piece of meat I had for dinner a few months back that rewuired mento use some martial skills." He chuckles and looks to Kaldur as the man rises to tell his story. Good job taking the focus off of the prince. Kieran raises his glass to him and relaxes.

Signe's brows raise a little, her fingers begining to idly drum on the chair's high back. "Some of us fight in other ways, beyond steel and fists. Those tales of bravery should also be shared and heard when going against any man or something that will do you or others harmed."

Kieran is overheard praising Kaldur.

Angwyn the otter, 2 Armed Confessors, Mordred, Abner leave, following Ann.

Asger is overheard praising Ann for: She looks absolutely amazing pregnant

Asger clicks his tongue as he looks over Clara "I'm betting I end up with a messenger tomorrow morning carrying the invoice for a totalled tavern in the Thrax quarter. At least two tables broken and not a bottle remaining unshattered." As he says this a servants makes his his way up to Clara and deposits a tankard of dark ale in her hand before vanishing to further see to the festivities

"Clara!" Fianna waves a free hand at her sister and holds a pint of ale in the other. A grin makes known and she glances over at Kaldur while taking a swig of the drink. "I want to go see Dumpling. Is she at the stable?" Apparently she wants to see her favorite warhorse trainee before she gets /too/ tipsy tonight. So once the next story begins, she gets up from her chair and slips out of the Hall (hopefully) unnoticed~

Oswyn looks over in Signe's direction when she speaks and bobs his head in a nod.

Waldemai laughs quietly at the thought of the tattered tavern.

Kaldur thumps his mug at the woe of tough meat. Kieran's woe. It can be a trial. "Aye, she is. Still wanting apples!" He gives Fianna a wave on her way out. He composes himself a moment. It's been ruminating, this tale. Summoned from memory at the prompting of the dark-robed man who had given him, his very young page, and his very young page's new stick bug a blessing before the naval engagements at Setarco. "Brother Driskell." He rumbles, standing, "I fight for blood. My blood. To protect it." He turns to address the room, chin lifted, "My sister was given command of Deepwood's fleets and our cousin Houses. Which she did most ably," he nods off ot the distance, if anyone knows, towards the Grayson Ward and his sister's presumptive location, "But a flight of arrows fell her on the decks as we came alongside a Gyre ship. Their fell nature beat at us, like to have turned my guts to water," his eyes fog in memory, "If you've felt it, you know. If you haven't, raise your glass," he continues, "But when I saw my sister fall-" he blinks, teeth baring briefly, "I leapt. Sprung the railing, our boarders following." He looks to Asger, eyes narrowing, "We felled them to a man. If the ship had been worth a damn, we'd have taken it. And I was called brave." To the dark-robed man, he laughs. "My sister called it reckless. But she lived to give me the rough side of her temper." He shrugs and lifts his mug high, "For kith and kin!"

Whether or not Clara's muddy hug to Kieran is successful or not... The attempt is after met with ale and she is happy to take hold of the tankard. "Hey Fianna." She offers her sister a smile and looks back at Asger. "Naw, wasn' me fault. But how did ya know it was in the Thrax Ward?" She looks at him quizzically. "Long story short. Sailor was getting handsy with a pretty staff girl and redirected it at me when I bought him a drink to bribe him off the girl. After that it was all down hill... literally. We took the fight outside and ended up at the bottom of a hill in the mud. Somehow I left with new friends..." After that she listens to Kaldur tell his tale, lifting her tankard at the excuse to drink at the end.

Kieran raises his mug as well as Kaldur does, "To the Last!"

Kieran is also hugged by a muddy Clara. "Hello, Clara." He chuckles and leams back to look down at his shirt. "You know I was just thonking that this shirt could use more mud browns and blood reds on it. Thanks!"

As Kaldur speaks, there's a chill wind that blows through the Black Hall, perhaps one of the large doors or windows were left open this Autumn evening. The silver-colored lanterns on the walls flicker and one or two snuff out with a tendril of smoke that curls upwards like a ghostly snake although others relight at the toast "To the Last". Perhaps the spirits he mentions make their presence known. Their stories of valor, they desire to hear.


Waldemai also raises a mug.

Signe leans a little closer to Kieran, whispering.

Kieran blinks at the spooky happenings then looks to the stock of Haze in his hand. "Damn. And here I thought it was the mushrooms I ate after smoking the Haze were what made me see things..." He leans over at Signr's whispering and says sonething quietly in return.

Signe has joined the line.

Asger listens quietly as Kaldur share his story, leaning back in his chair and sipping on his ale "That is a fine story my friend and certainly one worthy of the ale you drink tonight. You did fine work felling our foes on the seas, and your valor. There is no glory without risk, and no one ever won by playing it completely. Again I say good job." as the lanterns flicker he lets out a deep chortle "It seems even the spirits approve of the tale." looking out over the table he asks with a grin "Who else has earned their drink this night?"

Turn in line: Signe

"Glad I could help, Kieran. I hear mud browns and blood reds never go out of style in the north." Clara was going to continue and then spooky happened... "Huh... Well... On note of mushrooms... I'm starvin' an' I need ta get cleaned up so the servants don' keep glarin' at me." She rises to her feet, holds the tankard up in toast, and downs it. "See ya all later." She offers Kieran a nod and smile. "Soon, I hope. I missed me a Redrain Prince." She nods her head to Kaldur. "An' thanks fer da story." With that she slips out.

Signe's head lifted, watching as the winds snuffed a few of the lanters on the walls. She rolled her shoulders back then before speaking, her eyes looked to the Mirrormask, "This is not my story. But their bravery should be known by all who may not remember. The wound is still fresh for my cousins Nadia and the latest to be with the Spirits, Cassius. It was the battle of Whitewood. Those here know the lands in the north are still assaulted by the shav tribes of the north, whether out of greed or corruption. My brother's escort was ambused by a group of blood-mad Shavs. Corruption. They imprisoned my brother while slaughtering most of the escort. Those men where honored in death. My brother and my cousin the late Duke Cassius gathered what forces they could to see to our brother's rescue. There they battled the blod-mad Shavs, Cassius... for all his pride and stubborness fought valoursly against the waves of Shavs charign at him. Sigurd divided their ranks by sword as they searched for our brother. Many were lost that day on both sides but they would not stop until success was had. Our late cousin Nadia she too called her forces, rallying against the remaining tribe of the Moon Dancers until all had parished... every last one of them burned." She cleared her throat, "My dear cousin Nadia and cousin Cassius are no longer among us to share the tales of their bravery."

Kieran looks up as Clara refers to him. "Oh? I didn't realize someone was aiming arrows at me. I'll hold still next time."

Oswyn pauses in the midst of his writing, frowning as he listens to Signe. His brow furrows, and he murmurs, "Well told," to no one in particular.

Kieran sombers at Signe's tale and quietly sips his drink.

Waldemai raises his ale in memory of the departed.

The faceless hooded figure nods once towards Kaldur and when Signe shares the story it says "They are no longer walking amongst the living, but their stories and lessons can ignite the spark of hope that is in each of you. The choice is yours if their memories are lost to oblivion or if we all will take one of the best traits of the Redrain by retelling stories verbally so it is a personal gift shared between peoples. What will your choice be, I wonder?" A pause is made by the figure before it says, "To the Last."

Driskell is overheard praising Kaldur for: Stories of valor are trials of fire which burn away impurities of the soul. Thank you for sharing yours.

Driskell is overheard praising Signe for: Stories of valor are trials of fire which burn away impurities of the soul. Thank you for sharing yours.

Vale, A Baby Arctic Fox, Pearl, A Baby Arctic Wolf leave, following Clara.

Asger nods to Signe "Well told and I wish I could have known the two better." clearing his throat he looks out over the tables "With that memorial to two fallen heroes I think here is a good place to call this evening of drinking and fellowship." Rising up he lifts his tankard to the group "I thank all of you for joining me this evening and hope we might gather together like this again in the future, coming together to share stories of our histories, our pasts and the heroes that have defined our houses so that perhaps even in death they might find life as their stories are spread."

Kieran is overheard praising Signe.

Signe is overheard praising Asger for: For allowing us to share the stories of valor, both from ourselves and those who cannot for themselves

Kieran is overheard praising Asger.

Waldemai rises from where he has been sitting quietly. "Thank you all. I haven't much of a story myself, unless you're interested in forges and hammers, but Hearing yours was a lesson."

Oswyn pipes up with, "Yes, thank you all. They were good stories."

Signe is overheard praising Driskell for: Even those who are the shadow talkers remind us that living, while dead, should never be forgotten.

Signe is overheard praising Kaldur for: Sharing a story of bravery and his survival, well done!