Kieran is in the middle of the Shaman Walk directing servants as the construction of the mound of lumber finishes. Tables are being set with tankards alongside the kegs of strong liquor. He wears very fine, black leather clothing with fuzzy, black fur lining on his cloak - a very dashing Northern look. His arms are crossed over his chest with a somber expression, as he observes the preparations under way. A few people have already begun streaming into the area as the event readies to begin.



Valerius has just arrived and made his way to Kieran. Spotting the other prince's approach, the red-haired young man gives a small bow, "Hello, Your Highness. Thank you for the condolences. They are appreciated. However, we are not the only ones to have lost individuals close to us, and..." he grins then, "This is supposed to be a bit of an uplifting party. Replace the tears of grief with tears of laughter, as we celebrate his greatness with fond memories."
Maeve arrives.
Kieran gives his brother a nod of greeting in return. "It's almost time to begin." The bonfire preparations look to be completed and the servant start to step away, leaving the mound in its state. Little bits here and there are tidied up for the official 'opening of ceremonies' which involves a quick speech and lighting the fire.
Deva arrives.


"Prince Darren," Valerius turns his attention from Kieran to his older brother, bow his head respectfully. "I was just passing on my condolences to your brother. Please allow me to give them to you as well. And then," he continues, his mouth lifting up very slightly at the right corner, "I will promise to celebrate rather than grieve. My father was a Redrain. And though I do not feel the loss of Prince Sherrod as keenly as you, I will strive to live the more fiercely for having known him."


Valencia arrives.
Talen arrives.
Darren nods at Valerius, "Thank you, highness. Would that we could have met under happier circumstances." He sighs slightly, gesturing at the bonfire, "But your condolences are well-taken and appreciated."
Kima arrives.
A large mound of wood has been constructed in the middle of the Shaman Walk, standing at about six feet in height. A distance away from the eventual fire are numberous tables with empty tankards and several kegs of fine quality whiskey and ale. As the sun sets and night falls, the final preparations begin for the lighting.



Prince Redrain has been directing the servants in the preparations. He wears very fine, black leather clothing with fuzzy, black fur lining on his cloak - a very dashing Northern look. He stands next to Valerius and Darren, and gives Valerius a slap to the back. "Now that's the spirit." He looks over at the tavern and blinks, adding, "And that's The Spirits. Should we run out of drink, we can always head in there." As more people start to filter in, he waves for a servant to bring a lit torch to have at the ready. "I should probably make a small speech."
Clad in silvery gray silks, the only touch of color to Valencia's ensemble is a red silk mourning band, laced through a silver armlet she wears prominently. The Redrain royal arrives with Talen, the two of them talking as they approach, though Valencia falls quiet for a moment as she looks over those gathered, her perfectly arched brows lifting slightly as she catches sight of the three siblings, Deva, Darren, and Kieran. "Well, there's a trio I haven't seen in the same place at the same time in ages," she notes, her voice sweetly accented, if touched by sadness in the moment.
It's the first time she has made such a 'public' social appearance since their father's death. Deva arrives with, well, a certain energy in her brisk steps. There's a tenseness to the way she holds her jaw, posture straight and eyes alert. The dress she wears is a dark sapphire blue, accented with white fur at the sleeves. In a shocking turn, her hair is -actually- done, braided elaborately by a very patient handmaiden. "Brothers," the princess greets simply, giving both Kieran and Darren a look before moving to stand at the latter's side.
Upon his arrival, Talen is indeed in the company of Valencia. The Princess of House Redrain is seemingly escorted by the Sword of Lenosia, his presence rather unassuming in general. The Velenosian ward seems to have one hand on the hilt of his rapier, aiding his rather formal approach to walking the widow up the road toward her fallen husband. With a side-long glance to listen to the words of the royal, he nevertheless looks only onward, not speaking for the itme being.


His words to the two Redrain princes spoken, Valerius Thrax steps away, propelled in no small part by the slap to the back he has received from Kieran. He appears to have arrived alone, and that impression is underscored when he stands apart by himself as the shadows thicken. He has, however conveniently, placed himself near one of the tables from which a drink may be had. A longing eye is cast upon the refreshment as he waits for the memorial to begin.


Maeve walks lightly from the house to be present at the ceremony, her attire slightly less brown and plain than usual, though still simple garb. But there's fur, at least, and embroidery, and ornate bronze jewelry. Besides the leaves and flowers, she wears polished bone beads woven into her long red braid. She stands there, off to the side, hands clasped in front of herself, and watches the proceedings quietly, gaze softened with sympathy as she looks to the princes.
Gustave arrives.
Kieran, Darren, and Deva are indeed at the same place at the same time. The stars have aligned and the world shall soon end. The youngest of the three moves from his conversation and turns to face the gathered crowd, raising his arms for attention and a bit of quiet. "I will keep this short. Thank you all for coming to the memorial bonfire. Our lives are brief in the scheme of things, much like a fire, and the most we can hope for is that our lives burn just as brightly. My father, Prince Sherrod was among the brightest of fires, and he will be issed. However, also like a fire, he sparked fires in others which continue to burn just as brightly, and thus he carries on. Tonight, we light the darkness with a bonfire in his memory. We sing, we dance, and we tell stories of his greatness. /True/ stories. Entirely. No fabrications at all, for those of you who may not be familiar with Northern tradition. So, with that, let us begin." He gestures to the servant who set the torch to the bonfire, which, being prepared with oil, catches quickly. "As for the first story, I think I will share the time that father wrestled not just a bear, but the Ur-Bear!" Servants begin filling tnakards and handing them t the eagerly awaiting crowd, of which Valerius is likely the first.
"No point in waiting," Deva murmurs lowly to Valerius, following him over a beat later to the proximity of the refreshments table so she can indulge. There's certainly no hesitation on her part as she reaches for a glass to pour herself something strong. Apparently she has no patience to wait for a servant to hand her one. Then she finds a piece of furniture to lean against, a table probably, so she may slouch in the manner all her tutors scolded her not to. Once her mug is in hand, she raises it toward Kieran in a solemn salute as he speaks to those gathered.
Representing that far southern port of call, which is, without even a hint of irony, Southport, is Kima Saik. (She represents herself, too, but whoever remembers them?) She has, perhaps, taken the announcement regarding Prince Sherrod's Memorial Bonfire too seriously, as the knight arrives mounted. It's a proud beast, but not her beloved destrier - because what knight in their right mind would strap a log to such a creature!? Because, yes, that is what she has done.



A work horse, docile enough to be mounted though they weren't, typically, handsomely groomed so that its coat shines. Ribbons are tied into its mane, done in the appropriate colors, of course. Did one mention the log? Indeed, the noble animal pulls a mighty log. Kima insisted on the log being mighty, courtesy of Duke Hadrian.



She herself sits astride, bareback, one leg crossed over where one might expect a pommel to go had she only bothered with a saddle. The other dangles casually. The blonde knight is clad in an artful clash of leather and silk, because she's a Lycene and they can just /so/ those things. Her hair cascades down her back and shoulders, and as a final, but important note, her sword is peace-strapped.
Looking in the cup he's handed, the tankard's contents are no doubt considered with a temporary skepticism by Talen. As a Lycene male, the southerner seems rather unimpressed with the fare but he nevertheless politely glances up, sipping it as he listens to the traditional remarks from the Redrain present. Kima's presence captures Talen's attention, the Sword narrowing his gaze just slightly as he surveys the sight before him. A tilt of his head, and he's murmuring in short words to his company.
(OOC) Kima says: do**


Valerius' mouth quirks upward at the encouragement from Deva, his attention pulled from the mercifully brief speech of Kieran's. His hand, lightly callused from work with a sword, though not callused enough to cause some embarrassment to his family, reaches for a cup of wine. He hoists it into the autumn air. "To the Last," he says to Deva. And, perhaps meaning it quite sincerely, he keeps the cup tilted as he drains its contents, his adams apple bobbing with the effort. When the cup is dry, he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes drifting briefly to the recently arrived woman on the be-ribboned horse.


Drinking from his tankard with less gusto than might be seen as appropriate for a northener, Darren stands in somber silence near his siblings, staring into the bonfire. He looks up, however, at Kima's approach, his expression turning into one of bemusement as he looks over her horse and the log strapped to it. He shakes off his momentary confusion and looks at Kieran, 'An ur bear, brother? I don't think father told me that one.'
Gustave comes bearing a log. More accurately, he brings himself and three Blackram knights, each pulling the tether of a sled that bears no less than six great logs, each of such a size that it requires two of the black haired giants to unload it into the fire. Like their pikes, their livestock, and they themselves, apparently the Blackrams take the prospect of fuel for a fire very seriously. He remains in his armor to the great exasperation of his daughter, who sulks in the shadow of the firelight glaring daggers at her oh so unfashionable and rustic father. He only takes up a tankard once his tribute of lumber is unloaded, taking the slightest of sips as he makes sure first of the company kept and second that his darling child does not cause a scandal. The girl sometimes makes him wonder if she is a Lycene skinchanger....not that it makes him adore her less.
Dubiously eyeing the contents of the tankard pressed into her hands, Valencia nevertheless lifts it to her lips, taking a brief sip. She smiles faintly, perhaps at the flavorful libations - or more likely the words of the Sword of Lenosia. She looks to Kieran expectantly as he announces the start of a story, low words offered in return to Talen in the interim. Kima's grandiose entrance is noted with a look generally reserved for questionable tankards of alcohol, but she offers no commentary as yet.
Kieran adds before continuing the story, "Ah, yes, the logs. Feel free to toss you log onto the fire at any time. Not much ritual there, as it's more a personal thing." Much like the modern ritual of tossing dirt onto a coffin that has been lowered into the ground. He eyes Kima as she arrives with a massive log and smirks, "And if you brought a whole log rather than a split one, I think we can get a few servants to help you hoist it into the fire." He clears his throat then and waves for a servant to snag him a whiskey, while he continues. "As many of you likely know, men of the North cannot call themselves men until they have fought a bear. Father, being of the royal line, decided that not just any bear would do. He wanted to fight the strongest bear known. Reports had come of a massive beast, twice the size of even the largest bears prior, attacking villages and livestock. Deciding that was indeed going to be his challenge, he set off with a retinue to where it was thought the bear lived. Upon arrival, the other man formed the traditional surrounding 'wall' of shields and weaponry to keep the bear contained, while Sherrod called out to it in its cave. When it emerged, it was indeed as large as reported, if not larger. It's very presence filled the air with an aura of intensity, for it as not just a bear but an Ur-Bear - a bear possessed by a great bear spirit, making it a paragon among paragons of its kind." He pauses here to let things sink in and take a drink of the whiskey that is handed to him.
Vercyn arrives.
"To the Last," Deva replies, gesturing toward Valerius with her glass before taking a long, apparently much needed, drink from it. "Are you friends with my brothers?" she wonders, jerking her head in Darren and Kieran's direction. Fingers curl tighter around her cup as she turns to glance over one shoulder, then the other, at some of the newer arrivals. Her expression is mild, as if she's straining to keep higher levels of emotion in check. Instead of looking at the narrator as the story is shared, she swivels to request a refill from a server passing by with a bigger bottle.
Skald arrives.
The Sword's reaction to the arrival of log bearing friends and relatives is somewhat mild, albeit curious. All in all, he conducts his suitably quiet and conservative discussion with Valencia even if she deigns to conceal her equally mediocre reactions. As everyone raises salutations to the deceased, out of obligation and due respect for the deceased, he likewise does. When he resumes drinking, it's heartier.
Vercyn walks out from the Spirits and raises his voice in answer, "To the last!" Duke Vercyn smiles sadly and gives his head a shake, "A great bear, Prince Sherrod. I know he would have died with sword in hand. A good man." He nods at the assembled sorts, standing at the edge with his arms folded.
Hadrian arrives.
Dismounting, Kima offers Kieran a salute when he makes note of sending servants her way to help with the log. She had brought some help along as well, but as they are task menials, who pays them any mind? They'll work in accompaniment with the Redrains own servants, removing the log from the horse and getting it to the fire.



A moment later, and Kima, having found a drink (any drink, really), and the knight lifted in a toast while saying, "To the last."


Valerius listens to the story of the Ur-bear with an expression at once both pleased and amused, his interest apparent. Still, it does not take much to pull his eyes from Kieran when Deva echoes his toast and speaks. Keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the story, he shakes his head very lightly. "I admire them both, but to call us friends would not be right. I only met your brother Prince Darren tonight. Prince Keiran I have had the pleasure of meeting before. I am, however, their cousin...somehow. So I suppose that makes me your cousin as well, highness."


Maeve waits, content to watch people, first as they arrive, then as they begin to drink. Only when there is a lull in the service, when most nobles and guests appear to have been served, does Maeve step up to collect a tankard for herself. She wanders, then, taking a deep draught and raising the container. "To the last." she utters with the others, before retreating back to the periphery of the scene. As Kieran begins to narrate, she cants her head and turns her attention that way, listening intently.
The bonfire has been lit, whiskey and ale is being served to those gathered, logs are being tossed onto the fire, and Kieran is telling the first totally honest and accurate tale of Sherrod's life - the fight with the Ur-Bear. Having downed a bit of whiskey to loosen his vocal cords, Kieran raises the empty glass, "To the last!" He smiles at Vercyn and gives him a nod, before continuing the story. As this is not a formal story-telling event, people chat and laugh at ther stories being told in other corners of the event. He grins at his brother, "Oh, I'm sure you have, Brother. It's just that there are so many stories that it can be easy to forget a few here and there." He clears his throat and continues in a louder voice, "The sight of such a fiercesome beast led to two of the men losing their resolve and fleeing. The rest of the line held and father drew his sword and began the fight with the mighty creature. The Ur-bear charged my father - claws slashed, teeth snapped - all thankfully missing their marks, as he ducked and rolled away from the charge. Upon rising from the ground he managed to score a small wound in the flank of the creature, causing it to snarl in fury. The line continued to hold, watching as a young Prince Sherrod landed blow after blow, receiving a few of his own in return."
Skald prowls around the very outer edges of the firelight, passing Maeve like ships in the night, if one ship was caught up short, staring intently at the other ship's drink.
Deva gives her brother, Darren, a shrug from where she stands. "I don't remember this one either," she calls out, without waiting a beat to lift her glass to her lips all over again. It seems that the Redrain princess is working hard and fast on a certain level of inebriation. The grin she gives Kieran is slightly amused, fading a beat later as she looks into the remnants of her cup. "You are? Twenty times removed, on our mother's side?" she muses, outright snickering at Valerius' words. "Deva. Nice to meet you, then." Looking to the fire, she inhales sharply through her nose and squares her shoulders as the story continues on.
While some of the logs have indeed been split, Gustave and his knights go to work dismembering the unprepared logs with axes one might think more suitable to dismantling fortifications. Gustave pauses only to wipe his brow and raise his tankard. "To the last." Its a philosophy Gustave can get behind, in the midst of dissassembling their gift of logs for the pyre. Clearly the Redrain manor will have no shortage of fuel in case of a cold night. Mostly he just listens, nods in respect to the stories, and drinks.
(OOC) Kieran says: Feel free to chat amongst each other or tell your own stories. This is a very informal event. :)


"An I you," Valerius returns, slugging back some more wine. He has his own sort of chivalry that seems to involve not letting the fairer sex get inebriated alone, and he's working hard to keep pace with Deva. "My father was Valerian Redrain, and a champion of your house. I wish I could tell you where he fits in, but I fear I'm rather lazy and always have been. Still...I am learning a lot," he says, speaking to Deva, but nodding particularly toward Kieran and his story.


Glancing up from her conversation at the sound of Vercyn's voice, Valencia leads Talen in that direction as more and more non-Redrain arrive to show their respects and/or get drunk. "Duke Halfshav," she greets him. "Lady Brianna meant to make it, but she's resting. She had a very intense morning," she explains, her voice full of quiet sympathy for his daughter. "How are you faring?" she asks, speaking during a lull in the story-telling. "I recall how close the two of you were."
Maeve is oblivious, at first because she's listening to Kieran, a cheerless smile on her face, lighting up only slightly as the story turns to violence. Then her eyes are drawn to the flickering flames, and she stares at them, engrossed in their whirling about the logs, but out of the corner of her eye she sees someone, and eventually blinks curiously in Skald's direction. She raises her tankard. "There's plenty for everyone." she informs him with a smile, and holds the tankard out to him.
Hadrian Malvici's arrival is fashionably late, but he makes no attempt to draw the limelight away from Kieran and his story. The guards behind him stay back as he moves closer to where Kima is holding down the Southport garrison, accepting a glass of whiskey from a servant just in time to be the last to participate in the toast. "To the last," he calls, his voice carrying more than seems right for a man of his build, then downs a swig.



As he progresses around the audience, he gives a few soft greetings here and there. Darren, though they haven't met, receives a solemn tip of the head and shoulders; Valencia receives a warm smile and a nod; Valerius a few whispered words and a grin; and to Vercyn, with a respectful nod, he offers his hand to clasp. Eventually he gets to Kima and joins her, listening to the stories and absorbing the mood. He is making no attempt to hide that all of these traditions and locations are new to him; the interest on his face outweighs his amusement, for now.
Kieran looks over at Deva and raises an eyebrow. This is totally a true story. Ignore his siblings who are clearly mistaken. He sticks his tngue out at Deva, a very princely act, and he continues with the telling. "Eventually the Ur-bear grew frustrated at the fight and barreled through the line of men, charing off in the snow. Sherrod fired two arrows into its backside, but it kept running. While the normal rules for wrestling a bear only require you to do so for a set amount of time, he had resolved to slay it. He tracked the animal down, following its wake through the snow. Eventually he found it tending to its wounds as best as a bear can near a ravine. Having not been noticed by the beast, he knocked an arrow, drew it back, found his mark and released, sending the arrow into its neck. With a snarl and a howl, it toppled over and fell into the deep ravine, slaying it outright. After collecting the kill, it was dressed and its hide serves as the majestic bear rug of the great hall at the Farhaven Keep." He raises his glass at the end of the story, "In Prince Sherrod's memory." He then downs the remains of his whiskey. "More stories!" he calls from others and moves to fetch more drink for himself.
Talen is stood beside Valencia with the same level of unassuming quiet that one might expect of a servant. Still, the badge of office at his hip denotes him as something more, if still common blooded. The Sword of Velenosia inclines his head and extends a half-bow to his superiors, all given their due by his hinging at the waist, if not entirely to paralell with the ground. These customs seem at a loss to him, his southern traditions locked in his mind. There is an acknowledgement of the difference though, his observations no doubt going to spread as he discusses the ceremony with others in days to come.
"Bless you!" This benediction exclaimed, the tall stranger excitedly grabs the tankard. . .and Maeve's hand. A deft transfer from left to right and he gulps greedily from the drink, trying to hang on to Maeve's hand in the meantime so he can press a kiss to it once the drink is done.
"Oh! Of course, that rings more of a bell. You should feel right at home, then, hmm?" Deva teases, gesturing toward the bonfire with her unfortunately, but only temporarily, empty glass. Letting the buzz sink in, she rocks back on her heels and makes no move to reach for more just yet. "As long as whatever you're being lazy about makes you happy, that's all that matters," she tells Valerius with a small, lopsided smile. The tension in her limbs begins to fade, thanks to the drinks. "So -that's- where that rug came from. Good one." Kieran gets a nod as his story is concluded.
"It's true I've seen that rug," Valencia notes, lending some authenticity to Kieran's claims, though she does add, "There were a few discrepancies in your telling of the story versus the original version I heard. Perhaps the first telling was simply a bit more modest, and surely tonight is not one for modesty, but rightly-deserved glory to the last." She dimples a half smile toward Kieran before turning back to the others.
Jaenelle arrives.
Mirari arrives.
Vercyn smiles warmly at Valencia, "Well enough, though I do miss my friend. I can't tell tall tales about Sherrod. I knew him too well, and he'd probably reach a hand across the mirror and drag me screaming through if he heard them, so probably best to be relative honest, even if that annoys his son Prince Kieran." He briefly arm clasps Hadrian and nods in greeting, "I remember when he was young, before he became high lord. He and I once rode a month up into the Everwinter, hunting white bears. Sherrod refused to use a damn spear. The man was so stubborn. What kind of man fights a bear with a sword, practically daring the damned thing to maul him? Prince Sherrod did. I'm not sure he ever feared anything, I certainly never saw him flinch, and I told him. 'We have a shav invasion', I'd say, and he'd just blink and nod in his way." Vercyn rolls a shoulder, "Not a man to spend a great many words when he could get away with one or two. Except when he killed a white bear. He was so damned proud of it, he kept that pelt until he married Drea, and then gave it to her. I think it was his proudest possession that came off of something he killed."
Once Hadrian rejoins her, Kima sidles a step closer in order to speak a few quiet words. Thereafter, she resumes a more personable space, the drink within her hand held almost as an afterthought, now. Here and there she nods and smiles at someone in passing. Gustave's daughter gets a wry grin and a wink, if only in an attempt to win the youngling over from her sulking. "Isn't there a story regarding your mother and prince Sherrod?" Kima asks of Hadrian. "You know, the one about the pirates and the lost Jewel of Shenar?"



Fluttering her hand idly, Kima remarks offhand, "There are so many, after all." Stories, that is. Which is to say, completely historical accounts. of daring-do.
"I can only hope to be remembered as warmly," Hadrian says quietly, as the stories continue. He shakes his head in wonder. "No better way of expressing pride, I think. I do wonder," he says to Kima, "if our people would agree." He shakes his head slightly. He knows it wouldn't go over well. To Kima, he half-smiles and shrugs. "I'm afraid I've never been told that one. If you have, I invite you to share." His look into her eyes is a bit stern.
Maeve stares wide-eyed at the stranger as her hand is grabbed along with the tankard, and lets out a gasp and a soft laugh, "I'll need that to grab another one." she gives her hand a light tug towards freedom, not too hard, and looks somewhat confused at the kiss. Then, a little more at something she hears, turning slightly to take a long look about, eyes searching the crowd as she speaks, "I do indeed, but the Princess, mind you, isn't here."


"My laziness makes me very happy indeed, highness," Valerius says, his own grin crookedly matching Deva's. "Excuse me a moment." Clearing his throat, the Thraxian prince steps forward and indicates that he has story. "As some of you know, my father was a Redrain. Though he died when I was young." There is a brief pause before he presses on. "I met Prince Sherrod when I was still a boy, and, curious about my ancestry, I asked him about House Redrain. He told me it was a great tradition to wrestle bear. And I told him I wanted to do that. He blinked in surprise when I started taking off all of my clothes, then asked me what I was doing. I told him, I was going to wrestle bare! I don't think I've ever heard a man laugh longer or louder. He mentioned that story to me every time I saw him since."



Valerius holds his cup aloft. "To Prince Sherrod Redrain! And to all who wrestle bear, or bare!" He tosses back the cup for a thirsty drink.


Mirari arrives a few steps ahead of the Princess Jaenelle. She pauses at the edge of the worship circle and announces the arrival of the nobility she is attending. "Lords, Ladies, Distinguished guests. May I present to you Princess Jaenelle Velanosa, grand daughter of The Prince of Maelstrom, Donrai Thrax, whose flaxen hair shines brighter than the sun, the pearl of House Velanosa!" She turns back to Jeanelle and curtsies so low she is nearly squatting. "Your highness," she intones as she rises and steps aside for the princess to come forth. A dark smile curves the courtesans lips as she fades to the shadows and lets in the sun...Jaenelle."
(OOC) Mirari says: oops
Mirari arrives a few steps ahead of the Princess Jaenelle. She pauses at the edge of the worship circle and announces the arrival of the nobility she is attending. "Lords, Ladies, Distinguished guests. May I present to you Princess Jaenelle Velanosa, grand daughter of The Prince of Maelstrom, Donrai Thrax, whose flaxen hair shines brighter than the sun, the pearl of House Velanosa!" She turns back to Jeanelle and curtsies so low she is nearly squatting. "Your highness," she intones as she rises and steps aside for the princess to come forth. A dark smile curves the courtesans lips as she fades to the shadows and lets in the sun...Jaenelle.
(OOC) Mirari says: better
Skald releases Maeve's hand, frowning around at all the people. "Well. Alright, I guess." He points at Mirari. "Who is that?" He demands, then waves his free hand excitedly. "Oh, no, no I meant him? Who is that?" The waving hand indicates Kieran.
Kieran raises his refilled glass to Vercyn, "No annoyance at all. All stories are welcome. They just have to be...somewhat believable." He takes a drink of his whiskey and gives a nod of greeting to those who continue to arrive. The bonfire has been lit, servants assist with tossing some of the larger logs onto the fire, other servants work to hand out tankards of whiskey and ale, and the story-telling continues.
Kieran also gestures to a servant to bring hadrian more drink. It seems he needs more in order to get in the spirit of things.
"That's father," Deva murmurs aloud, mostly to herself. The smile she gives Vercyn is small, faint, but there's an appreciative glimmer in her eyes. Nodding as Valerius steps up, she edges closer to Darren to lightly settle her hand on her brother's shoulder. Unfortunately for him, she starts to sputter on her drink as Valerius shares his childhood interpretation of bear/bare wrestling. "That's... amazing," she concludes, pressing a hand to her mouth as she laughs for the first time in what feels like forever.
Jaenelle moves towards the large crowd, Mirari at her side...and she is apparently being singled out. The woman stares at Mira, and blinks. Turning a bright shade of red, she looks as if she might try to turn around and walk right back out, but alas, she does not. She clears her throat a moment as if to say something to the woman but stops as her brother moves forward to tell him story. She watches him, relaxing just slightly as she hears the familiar story, and a soft smile touches her lips. She does turn to look at Mirari as she helpfully shifts away, and narrows her eyes a touch. She shakes her head though, and moves further in anyway. She finds her legs again, and moves towards Valerius quickly. "Brother."
Kieran is overhard praising Vercyn.
Kieran is overhard praising Valerius.
Mirari falls in behind the princess, murmering something in her ear as she follows.
"I don't have any great tales of adventure or what have you, my acquaintance with my husband's uncle was brief but bright," Valencia says, after Vercyn recounts his own memories. "But I do recall one particular afternoon, when Angus was trying to teach me how to set a snare trap. It took ages, but I finally got it set correctly, and we left it overnight. The next morning, Angus had to leave with a scouting party, the threat of shavs being what it is, meaning - constant." She smiles thinly, but continues her tale. "I went out to check it. I admit, I was excited. What a horrid mistake. A rabbit was there, caught, and madder than anything I'd ever seen. Who knew that rabbits could be fierce? We kept them as pets sometimes, docile as could be, those - but not wild northern ones. I couldn't free it, and it was so scared and angry, I panicked. Prince Sherrod dropped what he had been doing, something much more important than this, I can assure you all. He came out and cut the rabbit free. I never set another trap. But he never laughed at me. I appreciated that," she finishes.
Maeve returns the now free hand to her hip, and just stares at Skald, bewildered and mildly amused. "And what would you want with her Highness?" she asks, eyes following as he points, first to Mirari, then to Kieran, "As to the first, I cannot say. And that's the prince Kieran. Who are you, might I ask?" she squints ever so slightly.


Valerius shoots Deva a quick wink, then moves out of the light of the fire to embraces his sister, Jaenelle. A word is murmured in her ear, and then he slips into the deeper night and the city beyond.


Valerius is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Shaman Walk, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Grounds.
Talen lowers his head somewhat in light of Valencia's words, the age-old motion made by any wise person trying to hide their smile or laugh. None such is even seen from the Sword of Lenosia, however, but the indication he is perhaps partially amused by the story is there. A glance lifts at the announcement of Jaenelle, so boldly given by the courtesan present, but he doesn't do much more than observe how the Velenosan widower progresses to her brother, to speak.
And tell the tale she shall! Though the stern look is rewarded with the most innocent batting of her lashes that it can only be received as physically painful. Why? Because she manages to do it only too well. However, before she can launch into her own tale, Kima raises the hand holding her drink to shout, "Hear, hear," in regards to Valerius and the notion of bare wrestling. Which is simply tradition down south, but that's a story for another time.



"It's a little known fact that prince Sherrod oft visited Southport in his youth," Kima begins. "And, during those years, the city was being particularly hit hard by that nefarious rogue, Admiral Durin." Without wasting time, Admiral Durin was a pirate of some ill-repute many years ago, and has long since been slain thirteen different ways by seven different men and two women. "Now with Adona at his side, the two conspired how best to deal with the scoundrel and his vicious gang when through means mystical and not entirely understood, they came into possession of the Jewel of Shenar." An item which has been both the most astonishing gem ever to grace the land as well as a beauty of unimaginable grace, intellect, and courage. In this, apparently, Kima has opted for the former.



"Using the Jewel as bait, they lured Durin into a cunningly laid trap, and without testing the listeners ability to believe, I shall only say that prince Sherrod and the vile Durin fought in one of history's most under-appreciated duels. In the end, prince Sherrod overcame all adversity and out-right wickedness by slaying Durin with the jaw bone of a donkey."
Skald scoffs. "Nobody important," he assures Maeve. "We're old friends, the Princess and I. But these are princes and princesses, too?" He wiggles a hand vaguely, indicating Kieran and maybe everyone in the general area. "Some of them look like her." He pauses, and then clarifies, "Not her." A meaningful glance at Mirari. "She just looks interesting."
Darren actually smiles a bit at Kieran and Kima's stories, despite his mood, as he shakes his head at Kieran, "The tales don't need to be that believeable. I think father would have approved of tall tales... he told a few in his time. I remember..." the prince pauses, thinking to himself, "Of the story of how one of our old household knights, Gramah One-Arm, got his name." He pauses the story again to nod a polite greeting to those who have arrived, then continues, speaking quietly, "Father would swear up and down that Gramah and he were hunting bears, though not an ur bear in this story, uh... Anyway. Hunting bears, and they came upon some stranger in the woods. Normal looking man, father said, though the man moved a bit strangely... like all the world belonged to him, he put it. Gramah was always a stern one, and took some offense to the man's manner. Words were exchanged, and Gramah... he was a huge one. He challenged the man to an arm-wrestling contest." The prince pauses to sip his tankard. "Anyway, Gramah learned that day that you don't challenge the Mad Mage of the North to an armwrestling contest, and still served father as a master-of-arms, training young knights with his one remaining arm." He shrugs, "That's the story Gramah and father told, and no one could ever get them to say otherwise."
Mirari steps back to allow brother and sister their moment and this gives her dark eyes time to look at the menu. Not a menu of food but of interesting people. Apparently she finds the preview delicious as her eyes dance with a mischevious gleam. Once the hug is complete and the Prince moves on she falls easily beside Jaenelle, whisperings again. How she loves to talk.
Jaenelle embraces her brother tightly for a moment, giggling and shaking her head at whatever he softly says to her. She does release Valerius, though it is clear she would rather keep him close to her for comfort sake, but alas, he slips off into the night, leaving her. She nibbles on her lower lip for a moment, staring after him, though she quickly turns to look towards the rest of the crowd and who might be there. She tilts her head slightly as Mirari says something to her, though does not answer the whisper right away.
Vercyn listens to the rabbit story and then comments, "Sherrod was more gracious than you'd know. Those northern rabbits, far more fierce than the southern variety, have been known to harbor terrible grudges at those who have wronged them. By freeing it, he was the last person in its mind, and it's all but certain it returned to exact bunny-revenge at some point. Quite possibly saved Princess Valencia's life." Then he adds, as if part of Kima's story is suddenly relevant, "I believe he kept the jaw bone of a donkey specifically for dueling vengeful northern rabbits." He then snaps his finger at Darren, "I heard that one about Gramah! You know he always claimed the Mad Mage got lucky."
Maeve glances back to the bonfire, then to Skald once more. "Old friends? That's important enough, I'd say." she replies with a smile and an uncertainly arched eyebrow. "Some are princes and princesses, and others are important folk, from other Houses, too, princes and lords and ladies and such." she notes while her curious gaze trails after Skald's gesturing, "Are you from the north yourself?"
Deva claps for Kima's tale, nodding in a terribly pleased manner. "Very resourceful, he was. Of course he'd use something like that." Twisting the end of one of her vividly red braids between her thumb and index finger, she shuffles a few steps backwards toward the refreshments to fill up again. Her back turns to the crowd, at least briefly, shoulders dropping in what might be slight discomfort. As the celebration rages on, she pours herself another stiff drink.
"You're teasing!" Valencia accuses Vercyn, though she laughs as she speaks, the sound full of a joy that cannot be fully snuffed even by tragedy. "That rabbit was kicking and flipping in that net, laugh all you like but I wouldn't bat an eye if the bunny-vengeance was as true as I'm standing here right now." She touches Talen's arm lightly. "Fetch Princess Jaenelle for me? I don't want her to accidentally wander off and get lost," she says quietly, as if this is a distinct possibility.
Skald nods at Maeve. "Sure, the far North." This amuses a laugh out of him, and he leans closer to confide something to Maeve in a hushed tone before swaggering towards the fire and those clustered nearer it. Forgotten and no longer filled with delicious ale, the tankard slips carelessly from his fingers.
Kieran is overhard praising Kima.
Talen inclines his head, turns and strides in Jaenelle's direction as the instruction of Valencia. The Sword cuts through the crowd easy, trying to remain unobstrusive though at times sets hands on the backs of individuals nad pushes to guide them out of is way. "Your highness," he calls, stopping a few feet from the Velenosan widow, bowing deep and looking to her company, Mirari in turn. "Might I call upon you to join Princess Valencia with your company? It's a sombre moment, but that doesn't mean you must have quiet company and reflect so sombrely on your own, too. It would be her pleasure to see and speak with you," he asserts. "Your companion may join us, as well, of course. Have you each had something to drink? We are to drink in honour of the fallen."
Kieran is overhard praising Darren.
"Me? Never, I'd never jest about Rabbit-Revenge. Sure, of course soft southerners would never take our northern animals seriously, but take it from me..." Vercyn holds a hand to his chest with a serious expression, "The first time any of you get into a Bunny Brawl, you'll wish you had Sherrod there with his jawbone of a donkey to sort the rabbit out."
And all the letters Talen's pose lost were stolen by faeries, honest.
Kieran claps at all the stories, grinning from ear to ear as people get into the swing of things. "Excellent tale, Brother!" The rabbit tale and the pirate tale both earn equal measures of please and cheer from the prince. He then look to Maeve and Skald, eyeing them or a moment, before turning his attention to Deva. He approaches her and speaks quietly, refilling his tankard with some whiskey. It seems he is well on his way to drunkenness too.
Jaenelle grabs a cup of something from a passing servant, peering into the liquid a moment before taking a healthy drink before Talen appears out of no where. She wiggles her cup of...whiskey at him and smiles, speaking in soft tones, "I would be quite honored to join Princess Valencia, thank you." The cup is held between both hands as she carefully moves to follow the man in the direction he must have come from. She looks over her shoulder to make sure that Mirari is aware of her departure and to see if she is following or have met her own friends here and has wandered herself.
"This whiskey," Kima exclaims, having snatched a fresh cup from a passing servant. "Is superb." Having overheard Vercyn's comment regarding the ferocity of northern animals earns him a, "I'd never dream of mocking that which they grow in the north, rabbit or otherwise." Her smile is good-natured.
Mirari is of course hovering around the princess. People have spoken of her but never too her in any case. She follows in the wake of Jaenelle. "Oh naturally I should never speak ill of the dead," she says quietly to Talen. Gathering her skirts she comes.
Maeve's brow furrows lightly at whatever it is Skald's say, though she looks more perplexed than upset. "How would you know?" she calls out after him, but stays behind for now, her mouth twisting to the side as she stares pensively at the man walking away towards the fire. She turns away, and walks to fetch herself another pair of tankards, one in each hand. The left's for herself, and she takes a long swig from it already, looking back to the bonfire. The other hangs in the right hand, just in case, as she begins to wander about.
(OOC) Hadrian apologizes profusely to anyone who might have been waiting on his pose. Bringing a plate of dinner to the table became 'let's chat forever.' >.<
When Talen arrives with Jaenelle once more, Valencia offers her fellow widow a small but welcoming smile. "Thank you so much for coming. Prince Sherrod would have been so pleased at this turnout, though of course we would all rather he be here to celebrate something less heartwrenching with us. What are you drinking?" she asks. "There's wine if that's too strong for you," she offers. "Prince Kieran outdid himself with regards to suppliers, only the best for His Grace." She gives a long-suffering sigh as the rabbit jokes continue from Vercyn and Kima. "I should probably have something stronger myself," she decides. "What are you drinking?" she asks Talen.
(OOC) Kima says: All is forgiven. ...This time!
Skald steps over a fallen cup - is it his? Is he going in circles? His rangy stride carries him to Kieran and Deva and he interrupts their conversation but putting a hand on the shoulders of each and tugging to get a better look at them. "Both of you! You're Drea's. . .family." The tone is quizzical, like he's waiting for confirmation of a guess.
Talen makes way for Jaenelle in the only way he can easily do so. One hand upon the hilt of his sword, the other pushing burly men and wayward women out of the way, their drinking bringing their sense of awareness down a few notches. While nobody remains overtly rude, it's nevertheless a crowded atmosphere. Once he's cleared a path for his chrage and delivered them safely into the company of Valencia, he steps aside and looks among them before casting a glance to Valencia. "Nothing, your highness... though I dare say, I'm surprised this catering doesn't include finer drinks of Lyceum. Grayson swill is... unpalatable," he opines. "It must be the current fads, I dare say I don't understand why the nobility aren't drinking Velenosan vintages exclusively for wine. I encourage you to let anyone know who wishes to sample our finest to get in touch with me, I'll send a crate if they cannot afford the costs..." It's a slight, meant clearly to invoke people's pride, his boldness knowing little bounds in defense of his house pride.
For whatever Kieran whispers to her, all Deva responds with is a vigorous nod. She pats him on the shoulder, briefly, her other hand clutching a cup now filled to the brim once more. "I need to go, I think--" She's cut off as Skald approaches. The man is leveled with a long look. Swallowing hard, she peels a step away and off to the side. Kieran gets all the joy of talking, because this one? She's heading out without another word.
Vercyn gives Skald a look, and then raises an eyebrow at Kieran, "Friend of yours, your highness?" He turns a head to smile at Kima, "Never underestimate the Northlands, that's precisely how someone suffers a grisly bunny related tragedy. I'm certain you're familiar with such." He watches Deva step away with a concerned expression.
Kieran is about to prod Deva a bit more when he is grabbed and pivoted by Skald. He raises a red eyebrow and looks the man over a bit.
Kieran says, "ooc Bleh. Stupid enter key."
(OOC) Kieran says: Double bleh.
(OOC) Skald says: You'll get it, tiger.
"There has been far too much loss, and these never do get any easier regardless of how many are attended" Jaenelle says with a soft smile as she reaches out to lightly place her hand on Valencia's for a brief moment. "I believe it is whiskey" she answers, once more looking into the cup to address the situation and to make sure it hasn't changed since she moved from one place to the next. Alcohol is a funny thing. She shakes her head though and laughs lightly, "I would not besmirch the honor of such a fine man as Prince Sherrod," and here she casts a side eye at Talen and adds for his benefit, "even though Velenosa wine is very appealing," and back to Valencia, "so I will instead offer a silent toast, and drink whiskey." And fall over, perhaps. "I have not met Prince Kieran, im afraid."
"Thankfully, this night is for prince Sherrod, and tales about him, rather than potentially embarrassing ones involving me and fierce hares." However, the jests fall away as she, too, notices Skald as he approaches Deva and Kieran. Her brows knit together slightly, but it's nothing that elicits another response from her as yet.
Mirari giggles and takes Jaenelles arm for support. "Do not fall my lady it would besmirch your lovely dress." She looks at Kieran. "I have never met him either your highness but he is so easy on the eyes is he not?"
Kieran is about to prod Deva a bit more when he is grabbed and pivoted by Skald. He raises a red eyebrow and looks the man over a bit. At Vercyn's question, he smiles slightly, "Everyone's a friend of mine. This friend is just...new to me." He reaches up to grab Skald's wrist and removes the man's hand from his shoulder. "Yes, goodman. We are the children of Prince Sherrod and Princess Drea. Do you know her?"
Skald peers at Deva as she skitters away, his dark eyes narrowed over a suddenly-knowing smile. He swings his head back toward Kieran when the young prince detangles himself. "Children, eh? So. Ahhh." He nods a head of shaggy hair and then gestures towards the fire, tattoos showing on his arm as he sleeve pulls up. "Well, then, I guess I'd say I used to know her. You can tell her I was here, for me? I hope she'd like that."
"You're a brave soul," Valencia tells Jaenelle. "Do let me know if you start to feel lightheaded, we're ill-equipped for a fainting spell beside a bonfire and I should hate for you to be trod upon." Mirari's contribution to the conversation is met with a cool smile. "Prince Kieran is very handsome, though perhaps he might appreciate your telling him so in a more appropriate time and place than his father's memorial service," she says gently enough.
Deva is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Shaman Walk, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Grounds.
Kieran has left the game.
Kieran has entered the game.
Talen bows his head to Jaenelle as he's admonished, much as Mirari is. "Our common blood is showing," he excuses, taking liberties to assume the heritage of the courtesan without much background knowledge. "Forgive me," he utters, clearing his throat. With a shake of his head, he then looks as the crowd begins to think, saying to the royalty present. "We should have Princess Valencia over to dine sometime, perhaps. I am certain the family would enjoy her company and perspective in these fragile moments. The estate would be better for it."
Mirari curtsies low to Princess Valencia. "Forgive me your highness. I did not know the occasion only attended my lady and with the talk of bunnies...well I deeply apologize and you shan't hear another word from me. I am mortified by my trespass. Please forgive me."
Mirari has left the game.
Mirari has entered the game.
Maeve sips from one of her tankards as she wanders around the crowd, bowing her head when appropriate, which is often, whenever she recognizes anyone. Her attention is easily caught by a person, by a piece of conversation, but it returns regularly to the vicinity of Kieran and Skald now, watching closely as the two interact.
It is always the appropriate time and place to compliment Kieran on how great he is. Though, he is in the middle of a hushed conversation with a strange, rangy man. His blue eyes focus on his departing sister for a moment, before looking back at Skald and continuing, "And who should I say asked about her? It will be hard to let her know without a name to give."
Not having had much of the whiskey within her cup as of yet, Jaenelle offers a reassuring smile to Valencia and a pat to Mirari's hand on her elbow, "I promise, if I start to swoon, I will do so away from the flames and out of any walkways where I may be trampled upon. She looks towards where Kieran is standing, with the help of Mirari so clearly pointing him out, though not having any context to what is going on there, she turns once more to speak to Valencia, only to notice her expression has changed. "Is something wrong?" she can't help but ask, looking between the woman and Talen for clues.
Skald notices Maeve and waves her closer, palm up. She has his drink, or so he has decided.
Skald looks irritated. He's not looking away from Maeve just yet, but clearly responds to Kieran, "You don't know who I am? What do they teach you in this damn boneyard of a city?"
Vercyn looks puzzled by Skald's comment, but decides that Kieran has well enough in hand and abandons the young prince to his conversation with the stranger. Instead, he chooses to focus on Kima and asks her, "Your first northern memorial bonfire? It's a longstanding tradition that started approximately now."
(OOC) Gustave reads ALL THE THINGS.
(OOC) Gustave finished chopping his wood, heads for smaller pastures.
(OOC) Kima says: Wow. I've summomned a Gustave as I type my pose referencing him.
(OOC) Gustave had a client call.
(OOC) Gustave digs for reference, supposes he can't go now ;)
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Valencia before departing.
Mirari leans closer to bring Jaenelle up to speed. "Its a funeral your highness," she whispers to the Princess. "For his beloved father." She looks again apologetically at Princess Valencia and purses her lips.
As Talen and Mirari both begin apologizing, Valencia casts about for a new drink, plucking one from a passing server. "Nothing at all is wrong," she assures Jaenelle, patting the woman's hand lightly. "Though I do need to be lying down now, my headache is back something fierce," she says by way of apology. "Talen, it's been so good seeing you again, give my regards to Princess Esera when you see her, won't you?" She presses her mostly full tankard of whiskey into the hands of a messenger instead of an actual message, shooing him away as she prepares to make her departure.
"It is, I must confess," Kima answers Vercyn. "I'm very nearly shamefaced that I only brought one log, when the good Marquis Blackram has so admirably supplied us with six." This said with obvious amusement, and no actual hurt feelings. (The poor horse simply could not have pulled six logs!) "I've attended the less celebrated, much smokier green wood fires more commonly found around the Lycene split." An exaggeration, surely! "I'm prepared to support any new tradition, so that I may the chance to buck it down the line, and scandalize the more gentle among us."
(OOC) Kima says: may have** the chance
Maeve curtsies in Valencia's direction in passing, with a small sympathetic look at Mirari, then continues. Noticing the wave from Skald she stops and gives him a look, squinting dubiously from under a faint frown. That melts away as she walks over, replaced by an uncertain smile. But she does first look to Kieran, "Your highness." she says, and curtsies, before offering Skald the full tankard in her right hand, keeping the left for herself.
Kima gets the rarest inkling of a smile from Sigrun, if only because she is pretty and smells less like savage. Appearances to keep and all! Gustave and his crew continue their chopping before leaning back against the pile, watching the assemblage as he rolls his shouldrers back. Hearing mention of his gift, Gustave steps forward. "They said they wished logs. I thought it would be practical if they had logs for this fire and the next....and possibly the next." Also because what he lacks in stories, he can more than obtain in wood. He is after all, as is so often stated, rather big. "My apologies if I showed you up, Lady Kima."
"Of course, your highness," Talen allows easily for Valenica, looking between the company present. "I should likely make my return to the estate anyway, so perhaps I'll walk you along the path," he offers, either waiting for the acceptance before he goes or if declined, making his progress after a polite nod, bow and farewell to Jaenelle and her company, Mirari.
Kieran raises his eyebrow again at the strange man, "I wouldn't know. I only arrived in Arx for the first time a few months ago. I grew up in Farhaven." his smile begins to fade a bit, as the man begins to push buttons. His smile renews quickly as Maeve approaches, "I think he wants another drink." He leans over to whisper to her, before looking to the rest of the gathering. "Does anyone else have a story of Prince Sherrod to share?"
Jaenelle shakes her head towards Mirari, knowing full well what the occasion for celebration is. She says something softly to the woman before turning towards the departing Valencia. "I am so sorry to hear you are not feeling well. I agree with Talen, we must have you over for dinner some time soon, even if it is just to catch up." She nods in approval as Talen offers to escort the Princess, "be safe, both of you."
Skald flashes a charming smile down at Maeve as he collects the drink and then tries to drape an arm companionably around her shoulder. "Thank you, Daisy." He tilts his head towards her and asks out of the side of his mouth, "That was your name, right?"
"I'd be delighted to have the company, thank you," Valencia tells Talen. "Send me an invitation any time," she tells Jaenelle. "Enjoy the rest of the evening," she says, this to both Jaenelle and Mirari. Maeve recieves a nod of recognition, just before the Redrain royal touches her temple, wincing faintly. "Let's go," she murmurs to Talen. "Before it's me that's falling over instead."
Skald seems mollified by Kieran's explanation. "Farhaven is a good place for you to be. You and your sister and your brother Daryl, and your other brother Daryl. At least one of you. But this is a good place for you to be, too. Sorry about you losing your dad, tiger."
(OOC) Kieran says: Booo.
(OOC) Kieran says: You should be ashamed for that. At least as ashamed as i am for getting that joke.
(OOC) Kima says: The Brothers Daryl Redrain are legend.
(OOC) Skald says: Joke's on you, I have no shame.
Valencia is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Shaman Walk, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Grounds.
Talen is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Shaman Walk, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Grounds.
Hadrian finishes his whiskey, the whiskey Kieran sent his way, and most of a third. To say he is in his cups would be inaccurate, as he is not drinking from a cup, but he laughs more at each successive story, a glint in his eye present that was not there before.



He cannot help but notice Skald lay hand on Kieran, but once the two are no longer touching, he moves to soothe any nerves that have been frayed - with a tale of his own. "I was not privileged enough to have met Prince Sherrod, though I heard tales. And in his way, Prince Sherrod Redrain won the Battle of Camp Ira."



"My second time marching against the shavs, my regiment's camp was ambushed. It was all they could to hold them off for a day, and in the night you could hear them chanting."



"At daybreak a messenger broke through the line: we wouldn't have enough reinforcements for days." Hadrian shrugs helplessly. "'What is the word?' the soldiers asked me."



The Duke Malvici smiles abruptly. "I shouted that I needed their courage and discipline for only two hours more, for Prince Sherrod Redrain was leaving Southport. Let no shav escape, lest the Prince take it personally." He taps his ear. "And the shavs began to run, so we ran them down."



"Stories grow in the telling, I know, but we aren't the only ones to share tales," Hadrian says earnestly. "Though he was thousands of miles away, Prince Sherrod broke the shavs with the weapon he sharpened his entire life through the adventures you have shared with us today: his reputation." He raises his whiskey. "In Prince Sherrod's memory," he says with a small smile, then takes a long pull from his drink, and slowly returns to his seat.
Kieran is overheard praising Hadrian.
(OOC) Kieran says: Do you guys see those?
(OOC) Kima says: Yes.
(OOC) Hadrian only sees that praises are being given and to whom, not their content.
(OOC) Hadrian says: Or maybe we do see the content?
(OOC) Hadrian hushes, as he knows nothing.
Kima waves her hand negligently to Gustave. "Worry not," she begins, her grin sly. "I shall just have to show you up at another time." Whether it is sooner, or later, only the gods may know! She appears ready to say something more, but there goes drunk Duke Hadrian, telling his heartening tale, which is in no way like the drunken regaling one may have hoped for. Maybe someone should get him another whiskey.
(OOC) Kieran says: OK. I didn't know if that was secret or not.
(OOC) Kima says: On the one hand, I like the idea of it being secret, but I see why it isn't.
Maeve cups both her hands around her own tankard once she's given the first to Skald, eyeing him up and down with a suspicious and likely rude look. She looks from the stranger, then to Kieran, then to Skald again, "I've been called that, and Poppy and Forget-me-not, once, but my name is Maeve." she replies quietly, then just stares there, eyes and mouth open wide at the way he addresses the prince. She laughs, a clear peal slipping free, then bites it back and looks elsewhere.
(OOC) Hadrian says: Tehom has said he intends to make praises, condemns, rumors, and gossip part of the same system. If he does, we will likely be able to investigate to try to discover who said what. Perhaps the praises and condemns will not be announced to the room then.
Jaenelle is starting to think it's her, as each time she grows comfortable her company leaves! She watches Valencia leave with Talen as her escort before taking another sip of her whiskey and turning just in time to hear Hadrian tell his story. She looks rather impressed, though its probably not very hard to impress her.
(OOC) Kima says: Ooh.
The whiskey does flow, letting Hadrian have as much of the Northern liquor as he can hold. Kieran continues speaking to Skald, "Yes. Those are indeed my siblings." He begins chuckling and decides that, rather than a threat, Skald is more a town drunk perhaps. "'Daisy,' will you take some drinks to the lovely two women that Princess Valencie was speaking to and see if they have any stories they would like to share."
Mirari moves toward Kieran bringing the Princess Jaenelle behind her. She curtsies low before him. "My sincerest condolences on the passing of your esteemed father your highness. He sounds like a legend in his own time."
Mirari then steps back that the Princess may offer condolences as well.
Skald steps back with a genuine smile, letting the ladies make their condolences in relative peace. He tells Maeve warmly, "Well, I'll call you Daisy if it's all the same to you. The flower that most seems like your sweet face doesn't even grow around these parts. Its name would be wasted."
It seems that there are other plans, so instead of Maeve coming to the moutnain, the mountain will come to Maeve. As Mirari moves forward, and says her words of condolences, Jaenelle steps forward to Kieran after she parts to give her own. "I am afraid I do not have many interesting stories to share about anything actually, and most certainly nothing like my brother, Valerius." She shakes her head, still not quite sure what made him tell it, and if it was actually true or not.
Vercyn shrugs his shoulders meaningfully and informs Maeve apologetically, "Daisy it is, I guess." He then makes his way over to Jaenelle and bows in her direction, "Your highness, forgive me, but I fear I did not introduce myself earlier. Duke Vercyn Halfshav, honored to meet you." He flashes a warm, charming smile at her and gives a restrained and polite nod of his head to Mirari.
Hadrian scans the crowd. Noticing Jaenelle's expression, he smiles and gives her a little wave. Before he can invite her to join he and Kima, Kieran is arranging for drinks for her. He says in a stage-whisper, "Come sit with us after!" He is leaving the whiskey in his hand untouched. Either he has forgotten it is there, or he has had enough to drink.
Maeve nods her assent to Kieran, though she makes a face, then rolls her eyes at Skald and at all the 'Daisies' being thrown about, cheeks taking on a redder tinge. She begins to turn, when Mirari and Jaenelle approach. "And here they are, your Highness." she declares, then takes a small step back with another curtsy, with a little smile and a dismissive shrug for Vercyn. She takes a very long swig off her tankard, then whirls about to look for more.
Mirari nods respectfully as Vercyn aknowledges her but it is not really a show of his interest. Her eyes find instead Maeve and the man teasing her about daisies. There is amusement hanging there as she smiles at Maeve. "Ahh the agony of being blessed with beauty my good woman. Seems a tragedy indeed. At times certainly." She moves around and extends a slender hand to the other commoner. "Mirari Corsetina. Charmed Im sure."
Jaenelle shakes her head quickly in reference to Vercyn's apology, "oh no, that is more than ok. I was over there" she states, as if he wasn't aware, "i'm not sure how you could have introduced yourself until this very moment. Duke Vercyn Halfshav, it is a pleasure to meet you. Princess Jaenelle Velenosa" though he probably knows that too thanks to Mirari's grand introduction earlier. She does note the little wave from Hadrian, and the not so subtle or quiet whisperings offering the Princess a seat. When in Rome...she replies back in just the same stage whispering way "okay, I will, hold on." Cause Kieran and all.
If Hadrian has forgotten his drink, then his knight shall come to his rescue - which is to say she will literally take it from his hand and drink it herself unless he otherwise protests. "I should be mindful of the hour," she says after a thoughtful moment. "My days due tend to start early." What with the training of young students in the art of butchery, or as it is more popularly known, sword fighting. "But I won't take my leave just yet," hoping instead to meet Jaenelle, for when she exits to Stage Hadrian.
(OOC) Skald says: Was that Kima?
(OOC) Kima owns that, yes.
(OOC) Kieran says: Sorry. got pulled away.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Tsk.
Kieran offers a small bow to Jaenelle, "Good evening, Your Highness. Thank you for attending the bonfire." He then turns to Mirari and siles, "And thank you for gracing us with your charming presence, Mirari." He chuckles a bit, before noting Hadrian waving for Jaenelle to join him. "Since things seem to be winding down, why don't we all head over and join His Grace?" He grabs an ale, switching from the whiskey he was consuming.
Skald says something quietly, before Kieran slips away. Then he turns towards Mirari and Maeve and executes a bow both lazy and graceful before straightening to amble off into the shadows.
Hadrian relinquishes his drink to Kima wordlessly. "Perhaps so," he says to Kima. "Does the ceremony continue until the logs all burn?" That eventuality appears distant, but the arrival of the others is not. He rises to his feet, giving a bow that is mostly neck and very little bending of the back. "Your highness," he says to Kieran, with a smile. "I am glad I was able to make it tonight and meet you, after all." Inclining his head towards the bonfire, he says, "The words and ways are different than those to which I am accustomed, but the reverence is the same, and it gladdens me. Have you met Lady Kima Saik?" he says, gesturing to his knight. He keeps his eyes on Kieran's, though others may be approaching.
Skald is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Shaman Walk, heading for NPC Cold Storage <OOC ROOM>.
Jaenelle dips her head as if she very much likes this idea, or perhaps simply just wishes to sit somewhere and sitting was certainly promised to her. She most graciously takes the Prince's arm, allowing Kieran to escort her over towards Hadrian's general direction. Vercyn is also motioned to, because he was nice enough to introduce himself and she would be upset if he is left unattended. She releases the man's arm so Hadrian may speak with him, waiting oh so patiently to also be noticed.
With all the talk and so many, Gustave finds it best to withdraw. He bows his head, tosses another log on the fire, and he and his giants, or rumored to be so, fade from the light of the fire. The child follows in short order, though Gustave just pause to send a salute and a raise of drink to the deceased. "To the last...why not. Maybe we'll remember this moment, remember the heroes we lost. The kings and princes and shadows of greatness." A pause, another drink, another walk into the shadows. "Or, perhaps not...."
(OOC) Gustave slips somewhere a little less populated.
(OOC) Kieran says: Thanks for coming Gustave!
Gustave is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Shaman Walk, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Gate.
Vercyn inclines his head politely as he slips out.
Vercyn is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Shaman Walk, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - The Spirits - Renowned Room #1.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Kieran before departing.
Kima, too, offers a bow to Kieran as he arrives alongside the others. It's a bit deeper, however. Yea, she even bends at the waist. "As my Lord says," Kima begins. "The customs may be different, but the spirit in still the same. I can't imagine your father wouldn't be proud." Her attention shifts to Jaenelle, and the blonde offers the other woman a bright smile. "I see you've taken the opportunity to enjoy some whiskey." What a way to break the ice!
Darren walks over to his brother, clapping Kieran on the shoulder, "Thank you for hosting this brother. I'll go make sure Deva is all right." He nods to the others, "Thank you all for coming."
Darren is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Shaman Walk, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - The Spirits - Main Bar.
Kieran watches the strange man depart, before having his arm taken and he escorts the group over to Hadrian's neck of the woods. "You may depart at any time, Your Grace. You do not have to wait for the fire to burn out." He gestures around at some of the people still remaining, enjoying the fire, drink, and companionship. "Someone will be here watching it to make sure nothing gets set ablaze." He lets Jaenelle have the seat offered her, before waving at a courier who is trying to get his attention. He fires off a quick reply, before smiling to Hadrian. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Grace. I'm glad we didn't have to force it afterall."
(OOC) Mirari says: I think I missed maeves pose
Kieran also smiles to Kima, "Thank you, Lady Knight." He doesn't know what her actual station is, so he throws something at the wall and hopes it's a bullseye.
(OOC) Mirari says: I would follow Jaenelle but my last pose I was introducing myself to Maeve. She idle out?
(OOC) Kieran says: Possibly. She can also be a bit slower in posing.
(OOC) Maeve says: I may have missed it!
(OOC) Kieran says: Oh!
(OOC) Kieran says: Well, you two can follow along and greet each other.
(OOC) Maeve is not good at keeping up with everything, so she'd posed getting more drinks, and misread Mirari's pose. Sorry!
Jaenelle's glass is still about half full, "maybe enjoy is not quite the right word I would use to discribe the relationship whiskey and I have with one another Lady Kima." She wiggles the liquid within the cup, watching it for a moment before her eyes once more lift, and she smiles, "it is an acquired taste that I think the men of my family would frown if I took up." The former Thraxian Princess offers a slight shrug of her shoulders as she appears amused at the idea even.
Mirari smiles warmly to Maeve as she is interrupted by Kierans request. "We should be delighted your highness. Lets all go," she suggests to the other woman but must hurry to stay with the Princess.
Maeve was fetching drinks, which are thankfully not too far away. She stops when Mirari speaks to her, and turns with a wide smile, "I think I'm not the one who'll be in agony when the morning comes. It's the drink, not my beauty." she says with a wink, then looks to the other woman's hand, and starts to reach for it, "Maeve Aisling." she introduces herself, as well, then looks about, and notices Skald is missing. "Oh, where's he now?" and she whirls about, letting out a puff of air as a sigh. Then she finishes off her tankard.
"As am I," Hadrian says. "It is difficult to pull those of a different background into the true spirit of a ritual like this, but you have done it with aplomb. If you will excuse me for a moment, your highness, I will not leave her highness there waiting for me to introduce myself any longer. If we do not have a chance to speak again this evening, I thank you for including us." He offers his hand to clasp Kieran's.



Only then does he pivot partially, to face Jaenelle and offer to take _her_ hand. "Your highness, I recognize you by your description. I am Duke Hadrian Malvici, of Southport." He adds the city-state unprompted, lest Jaenelle be unfamiliar with other Houses in the Lyceum. "And it is wonderful to finally meet you. Your brother commended you to me." He moves a hand to gesture at his knight, whom Jaenelle is already speaking to. "This is Lady Kima Saik, of the Saikland Greens near Southport."
"Oh, I don't know," Kima begins, sounding all together too thoughtful for someone who has as much to drink as she has thus far. "Maybe they need a good scandalizing?" As if House Thrax wasn't already nervous in these recent days and nights. Which of the major Houses weren't, though?



When Kieran thanks her, Kima smiles, pleased.



Though let it not be said that once Hadrian starts making introductions to Jaenelle that the knight doesn't look a little bit shamefaced. As if, perhaps, she only just then realized that such was what she should have done instead. She dips in another bow to Jaenelle.
Mirari waves as she hurries to attend Jaenelle. "Join us Miss Aisling," she laughs, and then she is being introduced to all the nobility of Redrain along with Jaenelle. "An honor and a delight," she says when they have been introduced in turn. Her eyes linger on the night for some time longer than the others. "I always wondered what it must be like to be a knight and a woman. Of course such things demand title which I have none. A pleasure to meet you my lady and my lords."
(OOC) Mirari says: the knight
(OOC) Kieran needs to get to bed.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Nooooo
Kima is overheard praising Kieran.
"My brother seems to think I am unable to make friends" Jaenelle says with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, though much heavier on the amusement. She allows Hadrian to take her hand after, and noting Kima's look, she laughs softly, "please don't look that way. Mistress Mirari tends to overdue these things, the introducing things. At memorials." Once again she is shaking her head and eyeing Mira, but is quickly giggling softly once more at the whole thing. "Duke Hadrian, I am sure you meant to see me since I have been back to the city some days ago, but it clearly slipped your mind?"
Kieran states, "And thank you to all of you for your wonderful stories in my father's memory. I am sure he would have been proud to hear for the first time of all these fantastic things he accomplished. We do not intend to demean what it is that he did accomplish, only to enliven it." He then yawns a touch, "I apologize, but I should probably retire. It was a long day preparing this event." He gives everyone a dip of his head. "Please, continue to mingle and enjoy the hospitality of House Redrain. Should you need more drink or a place to sleep off too much drink, The Spirits has both," he gestures to the tavern nearby. With that, he turns and heads off to the Villa.
Hadrian is overheard praising Kieran for: He may have a mixed reputation, but he played the role of host with grace and composure.
(OOC) Kieran says: I have a mixed reputation?
(OOC) Kima says: You do now. >.>
(OOC) Jaenelle says: I take full credit.
(OOC) Hadrian says: Yes.
(OOC) Hadrian says: I have heard good and bad both. ;)
(OOC) Kieran begins to wonder where all these stories are coming from and thinks there maybe some OOC rumormongering going on.
(OOC) Hadrian says: Sometimes from the same person.
(OOC) Hadrian says: Oh, if it was OOC, it would extremely mixed. I refer only to the IC ones. :P
(OOC) Kieran says: I haven't interacted with that many people yet!
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Go to bed, stinkypants.
Maeve gingerly sets her tankard down, now that it's empty, and wanders around the bonfire before withdrawing far from the crowd. She stands there, eyes still searching through the crowd for a minute longer. Then she stares at the fire, draws in a deep breath, exhales it with a sigh. As Kieran heads off, she hurries quickly to his side, "I'm sorry, your Highness, it looks like I've misplaced that strange fellow." she notes, wincing, then slips away as well.
(OOC) Hadrian says: Me neither.
(OOC) Kima spreads all sorts of tales about Hadrian.
(OOC) Kima says: For his benefit, of course.
(OOC) Kieran says: I don't take orders from you! I do what I want!
(OOC) Hadrian sighs. It is my lot in life.
(OOC) Kieran says: However, what I want is bed, so that's where I a going.
(OOC) Jaenelle says: Uhhuh :)
(OOC) Kima says: Night, Kieran!
Mirari huffs at the light rebuke. She has some rather choice things to say on the placement of blame for her faux paux but will of course allow the blame to fall on her head, the duty of a courtesan is sometimes to suffer blame. "Forgive my exuberance your highness," she says tersely.
(OOC) Hadrian says: Night Kieran! Thanks for the scene. :)
(OOC) Kieran says: goodnight.
Kieran is leaving Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Shaman Walk, heading for Arx - Ward of House Redrain - Redrain Villa - Bear Bedroom.
Kieran arrives.