The Badger Boardinghouse has been somewhat transformed for the tasting day. Three large kegs are settled upon tables with attendants ready to pour from them. And a bubbling vat of properly spiced cider beside a low fire just within view. The whole building now resplendent with the scent of fresh autumnal apples. Michael has been settled at a mostly empty table with a steaming mug clasped between two hands. Cozy and Warm.

Dodgy, a brown rat arrives, following Audgrim.

Cahal arrives with a ready smile. "Thank you for hosting! Now wheres the drink?"

This is just the sort of social gathering even Audgrim feels comfortable attending, so here he is - looking comfortable. He bows deeply upon entering and takes a moment to scan the crowds; he nods courteously to Cahal there, clearly knowing the man. "Smells great," he says contently, and takes off some of his warmer clothing so he won't overheat in here.

Lisebet today has elected to wear rose leather in teal and black. She sweeps in, as much as anyone barely five foot nothing can do, and smiles, as she looks around. "Lord Michael, you've outdone yourself," she exclaims. "I am sorry I am late. Wait, I am not late, am I?" There's a hint of teasing on Lisebet's face with the words, as she moves over to join him at the table.

Samantha checks composure at hard. Samantha is successful.

Drawn by the promise of hot apple cider, or perhaps a need for company, Marquessa Samantha Deepwood makes her way to the Badger, dressed warmly for the weather. As she arrives, she lifts her hands and pushes back her hood, her eyes looking decidedly weary as she glances around. There are dark circles under her eyes, as if she didn't sleep well the night before, but she appears otherwise perfectly composed. Her various Deepwood guards are with her, though they quietly blend into the scenery and try not to look conspicuous. As she spies her foster brother seated at a table already, her lips turn up at the corners of her mouth. "Michael, it's good to see you," she greets as she approaches. She spies Lisebet, and inclines her head. "Duchess," she greets, her voice warm. She appears composed, if a little bit more tense than usual. "If I had known there was a cider-tasting," she says to Michael, "I would have had some of the Deepwood cider brought to sample."

Ryhalt enters the Badger with a warm smile. He dusts off some snow before going over to greet the hosts, Lisebet and Michael. "Hello. Very good to see the both of you."

The winter day has brought out a face not seen in some days in the proper city of Arx, though Silvio struts in as if everyone should remember him. He makes a show of freeing long, sculpted curls from his cloak and tosses it casually over the back of the nearest chair. Steely eyes analyze the room and he takes a deep breath of the cider-scented air. Cahal gets a lingering look, but once he spots Lisebet's /dress/ and /boots/...well, anyone else might as well be invisible to the fashionista. He sweeps forwards and lifts his hands, wiggling the long fingers as he says, "My beautiful, elegant, radiant /Duch-ess/...this is...yes." There's a soft sigh. "I'd ask to have it next season but I don't think it would fit me."

Cahal grins over at Audgrim but its Samantha he ends up approaching. "Hello Marquessa Deepwood." he offers a hand for shaking to the Marquessa. "I'm, uh, the Marquis-consort of Lyonesse, Cahal. I've heard a lot about you."

The flash of teal and black is unmistaken - Audgrim turns to regard Lisebet and looks pretty impressed with how she carries up his creations, and does not hide how pleased he is with it; she is given a small smile even, a rare sight. And look at that! Duke Michael has one of his coats, too. He finds a seat and gets himself some cider to taste if offered.

/Plenty/ of fine people showing up has Michael standing up as they arrive to greet them. "Nonsense, Duchess. I just had to fight the markets to procure some casks of your fine cider." He steps out to extend a hand to Lisebet until she might sit. Michael flashes a grin towards the approaching Samantha, his foster sister ward friend. "There is at least some on tap here most days, Samantha. I'm sure if you wanted, we could just cover the costs of dispensing it." The man has foregone leathers today in favor of honeysilk and...Oh wait. The big greatcoat. Michael was caught up in leathers in his outfit too! "Welcome friends and thirsty cider appreciators. Theres a..." And the man has to check a scrap of parchment. "Mulled cider, spiced cider, dry cider and a 'robust' cider. I'll have someone explain how a beverage can be robust to me later."

"Robust tends to just be another word for 'getting you sneakily properly pissed real quick'," Audgrim suggests helpfully and with very dry humor. He's already drinking one - but not one of those. "The kind that fills you up like a meal, but when you aim to stand up, you realise the whole room has shifted three feet to the left and someone's moved all the tables and chairs in your way." He raises his cider in a toast to that, and drinks thirstily. "Love cider."

Lisebet takes Michael's hand as offered, while they greet new arrivals. She smiles to Samantha as well, returning the greeting. "Marquessa," she returns easily. "It's very good to see you. It's Lord Michael's idea, and I think I'm along to be ornamental." She is distracted by Ryhalt, giving him a hug, if he'll allow. "So good to see you too, brother mine," she greets him with a smile. Then Silvio's words, and the petite duchess turns to look his way. "Possibly if you shrink, your highness?" she offers, eyes gleaming. At this point, she does indeed take a seat. "That sounds like an excellent list of ciders. I look forward to trying them all."

3 House Riven Soldiers, 1 Greenwood Tribe Blood Warriors, Lianna, 1 Bisland pride guards, Feydin, a white-tailed eagle, Vigilance, a juvenile female Oakhaven Bloodhound, Berthold, Tinsel arrive, following Mia.

As Michael speaks if cider on tap, Samantha smiles warmly. "It is, after all, the perfect time of year for cider," she says. "This is a lovely idea." As Cahal greets her, Samantha turns to study him with perceptive gray eyes. A soft smile touches her lips. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord," she says, her voice quiet but a pleasantly musical contralto. "I hope the things you have heard were good," she says with a soft, lilting laugh. She turns to Lisebet then, and grins at the Duchess' comments. "It is very good to see you as well. Anyone who would mistake you for merely ornamental would be foolish," she says, warmth glimmering in her eyes. She finds herself a mug of cider, and settles in at a table.

6 Grayson House Guards arrives, following Jerrica.

Silvio smiles coyly as Lisebet tells him to shrink down, and then he looks for the next victim of his presence. He...so sad for the less-social fellow, notices Audgrim and snatches up a cider before making his way over to the man. "Hello there. I'm Silvio Velenosa." He pinches his lips. "You smell like leather and drink, two of my favorite things. Who are you?" He doesn't wait for an answer, "Or should I just call you Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious?"

When Mia arrives at the boarding house, well. It isn't as she so often does. Ohh, yes, there's her usual quick, clipped pace that strongly suggests moving out of her way would be wise, but there's no long skirts to kick up. No, just snow coated boots, which she proceeds to spend a good minute or so stomping the clinging flakes off of while standing just inside the door. Her lady's maid smirks very slightly at the sight, largely because Mia shoos her and the little brush she has for just such a purpose away with a brusque, "Go get yourself a drink, girl. I may be here for the Duke, but you're here for the cider."

Audgrim has joined the Large Table.

Michael has joined the Large Table.

"I wouldn't have listened to the bad stuff." Cahal tells Samantha "But dont worry. I didn't hear anything I had cause to forget."

Samantha has joined the Large Table.

Ryhalt half squishes Lisebet in a return hug. "Been too long again. You're lovely as always." He chuckles at her claim to be merely along for ornamentation, shaking his head. "I'll argue that cider is good enough draw without such a need."

Lisebet has joined the Large Table.

Audgrim looks up with clear surprise - and maybe some suspicion - when Silvio approaches and introduces himself. "Lord Silvio," he greets, nodding politely. "I'm tall, but not very mysterious. Plenty dark though." He speaks quiet dead pan. "I'm Sergeant Audgrim Veilandir, assistant guildmaster of the crafters guild. I had a hankering for a drink, and heard about this. I am not disappointed." He drinks more cider to prove the point, his amber gaze drifting around to take in the crowd, most of whom he has not met before.

6 Ivory Shields arrives, following Graziella.

Silvio's reaction gets a laugh from Lisebet, amusement quite totally obvious on her face. She too catches sight of Audgrim, and she inclines her head his way, with a brief smile. She looks to Samantha and Cahal, as well, and laughs again. "Shh, don't be giving away any secrets I might have," she mock protests, the sound light, musical and cheery. Her brother gets a delicate half shrug, "But Ryhalt, it's not coffee," she teases him.

The door to the Badger Boardinghouse swishes open allowing Princess Jerrica Grayson to enter with her usual bluster. She is followed by her normal coterie of guards. As she is still in the Grayson Quarter, they are less annoyed then usual that she is not allowing them to go first. The Grayson leans against the bar requesting her wine and looks around the room as she waits for it to be delivered. She spots Lisebet and Ryhalt and gives them a cheery wave. A smile and a nod is thrown Cahal's way. "Hello!" she chirps to no one specifically.

A vortex of the enigmatic, a lesson in duality, Princess Graziella's strange fashion choices have a way of drawing eyes even in the most crowded cider studded settings. Stepping lightly on a new steelsilk boots, these inky ankle boots are adorned with squids as part of their structure, keeping the princess aloft on the tentacles themselves.

Graziella makes her way into the room with an aloof angle to her airy expression and she moves through the throngs of cider drinkers at her own pace, slow and thoughtful during her initial trek through the room.. a polite rehearsed smile lingers on her face below vacant eyes.

Smiling to Lisebet, Samantha lifts a finger to her lips, as if to say her secrets are safe with her. As Cahal speaks again, Samantha turns her attention to him, once she's settled into a seat. "You are of my late husband's family. You should come by the Deepwood Manor sometime, my lord, if you would care to. You and the Marquessa would both be welcome." As Mia arrives, Samantha glances in the direction of her fellow Marquessa, and inclines her head in greeting. Her eyes drift toward the door as others arrive, her head inclining to Jerrica, and then to Graziella. Silvio and Audrgrim's presence do not go unnoticed by the Marquessa either, a soft smile given to each before she picks up her mug and inhales the aroma of cider, before taking a sip.

"Oh No." Says the Duke. Responsibility and duty is in search of him and a flickering idea of making it more difficult for Mia to find him. "Marquessa." He does not though, he remains standing at the table as he waves to Mia to inform her of his locale. "What brings you my way today? Cider?" He still has his mug in hand, and even takes a sip.

"Sergeant Audgrim Veilandir, assistant guildmaster of the crafters guild." Silvio repeats it all methodically with a singsong tone, perhaps to help in the remembering of it. "Yes, Cider does do a fair job of warming a body up." He makes a popping sound on the last word. "Crafters guild hmmm? So, you are good with your hands, I suppose? " He lids his eyes and breathes out in a sultry tone. "So am I." And then he chuckles and shakes his head. "I am sorry. Its been a long time since I was in /town/ and this is all so much fun. Don't pay any serious attention to what comes out of my mouth. I only /partly/ mean it." He takes a swift drink of his Cider. "Fates save me."

Cahal promises "I will extend your invitation to Demura Marquessa Samantha, and her sisters."

Audgrim checks composure at normal. Audgrim is successful.

Straightening from the work of trying to chase off the cold and wet of the outdoors, Mia offers a sharp nod of greeting to Samantha as she catches sight of the other woman, then looks to Michael with a mildly arched brow. "Bisland moves, my lord, and Riven follows. Naturally I came in support of your celebration." A pause. Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, though it's accompanied by the uptick of one corner of her mouth. "And to survey the competition, naturally, given how much cider the Twainfort exports."

Even Audgrim can't miss that sultry tone and the innuendo - he stares at Silvio with eyes that widen a little, because he probably isn't used to that. Still, he keeps his composure decently and just nods in amusement. "I am. I made Duchess Lisebet's gown, coat and boots you were admiring earlier. And Duke Michael's coat. Oh, and it seems ah... Marquessa Samantha if I am not mistaken, is wearing several of my creations too." He offers this rather matter of fact. "I think I sell best in Valardin and Grayson fealty. Maybe they just like leather more."

"Then make it coffee next time," Ryhalt challenges his sister with a grin. "Cider isn't bad as a substitute." As Jerrica arrives he smiles to her and returns her wave, "Hello Princess Jerrica. Good to see you looking well."

Marigold, a cheeky pygmy goat, Barf, the Bog Dog arrive, following Amari.

Lisebet inclines her head to Mia, but lets her take on Michael. She turns her attention to the arriving princesses, gesturing briefly. "Your highnesses Jerrica and Graziella, so very kind of you both to join us. I've started with the mulled cider, though I am given to understand there is also spiced, dry and robust cider to be tried." She flashes a grin at Ryhalt. "If you wish to cohost a coffee tasting, I would be happy to."

As Cahal promises to extend her invitation to Demura and her sisters, Samantha smiles warmly. "Excellent," she says. "I will look forward to the prospect of having visitors." She glances over to Audgrim as he speaks her name, and inclines her head. "Yes, word of your skill spreads far and wide, goodman Audgrim," she says warmly. "I adore your work," she adds frankly. "It reminds me that I must visit your shop again soon."

Graziella drifts along with the wandering gaze of someone who has never been here before, her large blue eyes take in the setting slowly and she makes sure to pick up a cup of cider to keep her hands busy. She wraps both her hands around the cup and takes a demure birdish sip before moving along to find herself a place to sit just as Lisebet speaks up. Turning to face her with a smile, Graziella explains, "I've found a nice spiced cup to start.. thank you." Her speaking voice is as empty as her eyes and the arresting lilt carries with it a stirring monotone quality, singsongy without the benefit of any warmth like the mocking song of a night bird. "Such a lovely gathering." At the mention of Audgrim's work the Princess glances over and adds, "I've quite a few of his pieces, second best shoes in the city. If you ask me."

"Bisland moved all of four feet south." Michael teases her, as He Is Bisland. A hand winds to wave forth a server to bring another warm cider for Mia in particular. "Bisland hasn't ventured much into cider making. Volume is needed for that, with Bisland's crop producing trees finding their footing on mountains means there won't be much competition from us." He'll step out from his table as it seems he'll need to schmooze and move through the room. A casual lean towards her makes it much easier to whisper state secrets to her.

Graziella has joined the Window Booth.

Amari strolls in, brushing snow from her shoulders, and finds her way more or less directly to the bar. It's less she's desperate to drink, than she is to have something solid to lean into and take some weight off one of her feet. Being anchored there also gives her the opportunity to have a look around and play spot-the-familiar-faces. There's a few, so the winning play is to stand there and smile pleasantly. Nodding where appropriate is also good. She does that. Otherwise, she's just stood there, getting her footing and absorbing the atmosphere.

Ryhalt considers the choices of cider. "Is there a competition between the ciders? Like the favorite cider of the day gets to be featured on the menu and the rest banished?" He chuckles and tries the robust cider. "I would like to have a coffee tasting in the future, yes," he says to Lisebet with a broad grin. "It is the season for desiring drinks that warm you up. It seems extra severe this winter, too."

"I got new designs and enjoy working with rose leather, lately, so I make more... clothes," Audgrim explains to Samantha, nodding respectfully at her. "But, always available for regular good armor. Rose leather won't stop a sword, after all." There's a respectful nod at Graziella too, and a tilt of his head as if he's wondering who the BEST shoe-maker in town is, but he doesn't ask. He doesn't appear to be worried about competition. "I've derailed. This is about cider. Though I do recommend not spilling it on leather," he offers with dead-pan helpfulness.

Cup in hand, Jerrica to the the group with the Farshaws. Her green eyes shift wistfully towards Audgrim. "If only he didn't work in leather." She takes a whiff of the steam rising off of her cider as she walks before taking a drink. "Mmmm," she says. Then a "Thank you, my lord," is given in response to Ryhalt's compliment. "I think a coffee tasting would be wonderful. Put some of the attention given to the Oathlands drinks on the nectar of the gods for a change."

"If you're short of cider, I can have a few cases of ours sent to Bisland Manor to see you through the winter. The perry is particularly tart this year, which I wasn't quite expecting, but it's pleasant in its own unique way," Mia offers, though she pauses in her conversation at the sound of the door opening several more times. Or maybe its the blasts of cold air that draw her attention. One hand raises as she spots Lisebet, another for Amari, before she leans towards Michael to murmur something in reply to the man.

Silvio makes a low hum. "Oh, I like leather." He flaps one hand and takes another sip with the other. "I have a whole set of leather armor that is fantastic. And I have this leather /costume/ that I wore a few seasons ago that made me look like a giant venus flytrap plant. Some...sort of spring theme, I assume. I'll have to commission you myself since now I know you exist and I can clearly see evidence of your talents." He grins at Samantha, nearby as well. "Are you doing well, my dear? Which Cider are you trying? Can I have a sip of yours and you can have a sip of mine?" It is a provocative idea...sharing a drink with a Velenosa!

Mia mutters, "... ... ... ... ... ... of Ashford ... With ... ... ... ... the city, ... thought he ... ... might be of ... help. Not our ... ... know, but the ... are the Crownlands, and I ... ... suspicions ... those ..."

"Rose leather is wonderfully supple, isn't it? Makes an impressive dress, I've thrown a few together for myself with it.." Graziella trails off without any mind paid for the Unasked question. Smirking simply, she heads over to find herself a seat at one of the tables with a nice view of the street. There is a glance spared for Silvio and his mention of a venus flytrap, to which she opines, "Oh, I do love a good costume... one of my favorite parts about the theater is just seeing what they come up with to wear on stage." Followed by another tiny tip from her cider mug.

Samantha smiles to Audgrim and nods to him. "It is in my plans to have my House guard outfitted in good quality leather armor. Perhaps we can discuss a possible commission in the future?" she inquires of him, before taking another sip of the cider she has chosen. "This is quite good," she comments, lifting the mug, and then squinting over to the place where she picked it up from. "Which ciders do we have represented here?" she asks of Michael. She glances briefly at Mia then, overhearing perhaps a hit of her muttering, though she glances away after a moment and looks to Silvio as he speaks up. "I am well, thank you, your Highness. I hope you are doing well also?" She peers into her mug again. "Honestly, I'm not sure which cider I picked up, but you're welcome to try it. I'll try yours too," she says boldly. She hands over her mug for him to try, her gray eyes sparkling with good humor.

Audgrim squints at Jerrica - her comment confuses him for a moment, but then he shrugs it off and continues with his drink, listening to Silvio. "Yeah?" he says. "Great. Maybe house Velenosa will start dropping in too then," he says with continuous dry humor - he doesn't really think they would in general. His first cider is finished, so he is offered to try another which he accepts with genuine delight. "Of course, I'd be happy to," he nods at Samantha.

"See. The problem was I *wasn't* short. Its just not Bisland's cider. Ashford and Riven and a few outliers from Redrain way as well." Duchess Lisebet and Amari get glances and of course, little waves as well as if Mia is the basis for guiding Michael's social interactions at the moment. "So. What makes a cider Robust, Auntie Mia?"

"That seems a very good plan then, a coffee tasting," Lisebet agrees with a smile. She looks to Jerrica and Ryhalt, and adds, "I can certainly assist if you would like?" that said, she waves to Amari, head tilting slightly. "My Lady Amari, it's been quite a while since we last had a chance to speak. It's good to see you." She too does recognize most everyone, and so she tries to greet them all, as a co-host should do. "I adore rose leather, and as you can see, Master Audgrim does wonderful work." She's living walking proof of that, her outfit definitely showing off both the material and Audgrim's skill. She sips her cider, but lets Michael answer the question about which ciders are represented. On overhearing part of what Mia says, Lisebet's attention goes to Michael and Mia.

Silvio offers over his cider to Samantha, which is NOT poisoned, because nothing ruins a good winter cider party like poison. And he likes the party part. He takes up her cup and gives it a thoughtful test. "Ohh...this is much spicer than mine. Mine has more of the apple though." A little side-eye to Audgrim and he chuckles too. "If you want me to recommend you to the entire house...I think I deserve a present for that."

"It's been an age, Duchess. It sounds as though you've been thriving with House Ashford." Amari replies, with a wiggle of her fingers to Lisebet. The same wiggly fingers are deployed to greet Mia and Michael as well, and the exchange between them prompts an amused half smile. "Yes, Auntie Mia, what makes a cider robust?" Inquiring minds want to know.

Mia checks composure and etiquette at normal. Mia is successful.

Ryhalt smiles in sympathy with Jerrica's distaste of leatherworking and asks of her, "What fabric do you favor for protection, then?" On the subject of coffee tasting he nods in agreement with Lisebet. "I would appreciate your help. Gives us an excuse to get together and plot." As if siblings needed such a reason! After taking a drink of the robust cider he says, "This is good." He smiles at Amari as she comes over. "Hello Lady Amari, good to see you again."

Audgrim gives Silvio an amused look. "Not a terrible offer - but I think I'm good. I'm so busy as is, not sure I could handle a flock of Velenosa clamoring for rose leather outfits," he admits. He finishes the second cider quite promptly, then stands up - without wobbling - and bows deeply towards the room. "Thank you very much for the cider, I enjoyed it very much. I need to make it an early evening though, I am off for some work tomorrow." And with that, the mercenary/crafter heads out of the inn.

As Silvio hands her a mug in return, Samantha takes a sip of it, and tilts her head thoughtfully. "Yes, I do taste more apple in this one. Refreshingly mild," she says. "Though I do think I prefer the spiced a little more." She hands the cup back to Silvio with a smile. "Shall we try the others?" She stands up, and moves toward where the ciders are, and she gathers up mugs of each of the different samples, bringing them back to the table and plunking them down, allowing for a variety of ciders to be easily at hand for anyone at the table to try.

Audgrim has left the Large Table.

Dodgy, a brown rat leaves, following Audgrim.

Princess Graziella appears content to sip her nice warm cider and alternately watch the snow fall and the people talk, her window-ward gazes are occasionally interrupted by glances outward at the crowd.

"In flavor or in how likely it is you'll need your guards to carry you to your bed, my lord?," Mia asks, doing her utmost to maintain a polite and neutral expression at the nickname of 'Auntie Mia' having apparently been picked up. Neutral expressions are one of her great strengths, provided one ignores the downsides of appearing cool or perhaps even mildly bored. In this case, she looks exasperated, which probably means something is Michael's fault. "Cider's very simple to make, if I'm being entirely honest. It's the nuances of it that are difficult to master and require the best brewers. One is about how strongly flavored the apples are. The other is about how sugary-sweet they are."

"I have only once had need of any sort of armor." Jerrica swishes the warm cider around in her cup. "In that case, I just wore your cousins." She shrugs then volunteers to Lisebet. "I would be willing to help on the project as well if you like." With the arrival of Amari to the group she gives a respectful nod and introduces herself. "I don't believe we've met before. I'm Jerrica Grayson."

Alphonse, a long-suffering assistant arrives, following Adalyn.

Silvio has joined the Large Table.

"Duke Ryhalt, it's good to see you as well. You're looking fit!" Amari compliments as she hobbles up and considers both the folks at the table, and the ciders. Should she try a robust one? Mia's explanation is considered with slow thoughtful nods, but before a decision can be made, Jerrica introduces herself. "Your Highness, hello. Lady- er, well, Baroness Amari Redire. You do seem familiar. We must have met in passing once. That seems the way, doesn't it? Like, I'm absolutely sure I've met you, Marquessa Deepwood, and you as well Prince Silvio."

"Have a few of the robust ciders, Amari," Mia chimes in, "And you'll be quite friendly with everyone, I promise you." Did... did she just make a joke? Is that a thing Mia does?

Lisebet's gaze falls on Graziella, and she adds, having not lost that train of conversation only been distracted a bit, "I agree with costumes, both at costume balls or the stage. Have you a favourite costume you remember?" She looks to Jerrica and smiles. "I think that would be a lovely idea - I'm always willing to conspire on good party thoughts." Mia's explanation is listened to quietly, as Lisebet sips her cider, though at the last bit, she chuckles aloud, warmly.

Silvio looks up from the table at the mention of his name and he stares straight at Amari. "Yes..." He frowns, thoughtful, trying to put the face with the moment. "We were definitely wearing /clothes/, but we may have been wet. Did we sail a ship together?"

Silvio looks up from the table at the mention of his name and he stares straight at Amari. "Yes..." He frowns, thoughtful, trying to put the face with the moment. "We were definitely wearing /clothes/, but we may have been wet. Did we sail a ship together?"

"I would appreciate the help, too." Ryhalt nods in agreement with Lisebet to accepting Jerrica's help. "I meant to write to both of you on a seperate matter, so will invite you over to discuss it sometime soon. Don't want to offend the Duke by speaking about it here. His fists hurt." He glances over at Michael with a wry grin as he mock holds his ribs. Chuckling he nods in agreement with Amari, "Been motivated to hone myself some more since joining the Explorers. That and how the world is generally tending, somehow think more than economic negotation will be needed. You're a Baroness now? Congratulations, I had not heard."

There's fashionably late and then there's ridiculously tardy. Adalyn's arrival likely borders on the latter, but she enters with a smile and moves to join the crowd, attempting to blend in as though she's been present the whole time. Waggled fingers serve as a wave of greeting to a few familiar faces in the group, but as soon as she has spotted Amari, she begins heading straight for her.

As Amari is welcomed and joins the cider-tasting group, Samantha glances up as he name is mentioned, and she offers Amari a warm smile. "Baroness," she greets warmly. "I am certain we have run into one another once or twice. It is good to see you, and I hope you are doing well." She smiles at Mia's joke, and gives a soft laugh. As Silvio flops down at the table, and she picks up one of the mugs she had set down. "Perhaps we should rate them, and put them in order from best to worst? Or from sweetest to most sour? Or from mildest to spiciest?" she offers up. "But how can they be rated? They are all so good."

"Oh, Duchess, what a wide open question-" Graziella smiles sweetly as she shifts her gaze from the snow covered window while speaking, "I've an endless stream of favorite costumes, both those I've worn or designed and those I've seen..." Nodding simply, she sips her mug and glances sheepishly around the room, "I'd hate to upstage the cider though, even in these shoes." A beat and then a pause, as she tries to think of a favorite, "There were some very creative ones at the last Bloodmoon ball, especially on the barge. I seem to remember a rather frightening Imp, and a few lovely flowers.." Trailing off easily and filling the silence with another slow sip before saying, "This tastes familiar, is that allspice?"

"I don't know. Someone just told me it was robust. He might've been saying so to charge me more." Michael heaves a sigh of wistfull neglect. Because he probably overpaid but ah well. "Its a fine turn out, isn't it? I suppose cider, beer and spirits are always going to be an alluring call to a party." Something is always Michael's fault though. Today isn't any different. The pair definitely seem to be having two conversations though.

6 Grayson House Guards leaves, following Jerrica.

"What if everyone hates me or just forgets that I exist, Mia? Will the more robust cider help make me more acceptable and memorable? I'll settle for one of the two." Amari is game to test the idea. She proves it by having a cup filled and tips it back to drink it all in one go. As the cup is lowered, her eyes are squinted nearly shut and her mouth pressed into a lipless line. Then, with satisfaction: "AAAAH!" It's after that she actually seems to finally taste the cider. "That is robust!" She reaches for another cup, she smiles and nods knowingly and in agreement to Samantha. "We never did sit down for tea. The invitation is still open." Silvio then, "I so rarely sail, but possibly. I seem to remember you sharing some very good commentary about fashion at one of those grand events. I may be misremembering, but there were clothes involved." Finally, Duke Ryhalt, "I suppose it hasn't been widely proclaimed as yet, and I'm still getting used to the idea. I'm good to hear you've joined the Explorers. They're a fun lot. Have you explored much of Westrock Reach? It has so much history." Adalyn appears, and she smiles broadly at the Clement heir.

"Acceptable? Doubtful. Memorable? It very well might do that," she says with a shake of her head at Amari downing the whole glass. But then something is murmured to her. Both of Mia's brows arch sharply at *something* which Michael has said to her. Yes, if she's still sporting a cool and neutral expression following that, it is most decidedly the Duke's fault. "Despite having a husband, four children, and two younger brothers, I swear that any gray hair that starts peppering my temples in the next few years will be from you." There's a great, heaving sigh, one that isn't wistful at all. No, no, it's quite clearly put upon. But she tucks her hand into the crook of the Lion's arm all the same -- yes, despite the fact that he never offered it -- apparently expecting to be escorted to wherever it is he means to go.

Ezra has, against all probable odds, found his way to a social event. His entrance is quiet and fairly unobtrusive, and then his next move is that introvert go-to, the scanning of the room to see if anybody he knows is here. A couple of someones! Ryhalt, shared adventurer, gets an amused look and a greeting that seems part wave, part casual salute, then Ezra allows himself to drift Mia's way, and infringe upon her conversation. "From what I hear, your two younger brothers are spectacularly lovely people."

Michael shouts from nearby, "ADALYN"

1 Templar Knight guards arrives, following Wylla.

Daan, the Fanboy Valet, 2 Redrain Guards arrive, following Artur.

Samantha nods to Amari in agreement in turn. "I will look forward to it, my lady," she says, before picking up another mug of cider to taste it's contents. She tilts her head, and closes her eyes. "This one is a bit sour, but has a nice kick to it," she notes, before setting the mug aside. "I might even say it is... robust," she says with a smile slid toward Mia.

Graziella is keeping company with the weather outside, as she lets her vacant wide eyed gazes drift between the window and the gathering with a disconnected quality as the conversation drifts from one subjet to another.

Lisebet's gaze falls on Graziella, and she adds, having not lost that train of conversation only been distracted a bit, "I agree with costumes, both at costume balls or the stage. Have you a favourite costume you remember?" She looks to Jerrica and smiles. "I think that would be a lovely idea - I'm always willing to conspire on good party thoughts." Mia's explanation is listened to quietly, as Lisebet sips her cider, though at the last bit, she chuckles aloud, warmly.

Silvio chuckles softly and grabs another mug for himself, different of course. "I know we have mingled over fashion." He confirms. The Prince of Taste could be easily defined as the sworn enemy of the introvert, since he seems to sense the presence of Ezra the moment he enters, and fixes dark eyes upon the man with a twinkle of mischevious delight. He leans closer to those sharing his table and asks, "Who is that one there?" His eyes point towards Ezra.

"It's probably far more enjoyable to be memorable than acceptable, anyway," Adalyn quips, flashing a grin of merriment toward Amari and Mia after overhearing the pair's exchange. "And if cider can do that, I must have a glass or two or three." In the midst of procuring said glass, she hears Michael's shout and laughs. Her head swivels, the Clement lady searching for her patron among the gathering and giving the only proper greeting in return...

Adalyn shouts from nearby, "MICHAEL!"

"That isn't surprising, Mia. Everyone has been blaming their grey hairs upon me." Michael reaches for Mia's hand to pull it through his elbow and walk her off towards Adalyn and Amari proper. Except that hand is already there and he is patpatpatpatting it instead. "OH ADALYN"! A loud yell that might shake birds from rafters if there were birds there and the Duke is threading his way through to Adalyn and Co.

Wylla arrives with no fanfare, the plump, cheerful woman coming out from the cold wearing an embroidered woolen dress and a warm coat lined with fur at the collar. She tilts her head at her guards and murmurs something, before heading further into the boardinghouse to attend what promises to be a cozy event. The Archlector's eyes scan the crowd, looking for anyone she might know.

Ezra hears someone asking who is that one there and automatically looks over his shoulder to determine who might be spoken of? Woosh, it's the sound such questions make as they go sailing right over his head.

"If you mash the two of them together, my brothers make one vaguely tolerable and halfway useful person, I will admit, which is more of a compliment than I offer most people," Mia retorts dryly. Naturally, her barb is accompanied by a peck to her brother's cheek, as if she hasn't seen the man in three months despite the fact that he lives just down the hall and around a corner from her own rooms. Whatever else she might say is interrupted by her wincing at Michael shouting RIGHT NEXT TO HER EAR, resulting in a fleeting expression that looks all too similar to having just sucked on a lemon. It straightens as quickly as it came, followed by her saying, "I'm sure you remember Duke Bisland, Ezra, from your days at Pridehall. And Marquessa Deepwood, of course." A nod towards Amari. "The Baroness Amari Redire - formerly a Keaton - is a very good friend. And a relative of some cousinhood or another to Lady Adalyn Clement," lifting her chin towards the shouting lady. "It seems you already know Duke Farshaw, who I haven't seen since we had the Farshaws to dinner at Heron Hall, and Duchess Ashford is his sister, who I would very much like to introduce you to."

Cheeks aglow from the cold outside, Artur steps into the boardinghouse, already sporting a broad grin. "I am late, and for that I apologize, but I plan to make up for lost time," the Redrain Prince announces to the room at large, shaking snow off his cloak and stomping his boots a few times before treading straight for the table where the drinks are. Once he has a drink in hand, he turns dramatically on his heel (mainly to make his cloak sweep out) and starts looking about properly for familiar faces. "Ah! Comrade!" he calls to Michael. "I should have known you'd host just as splendid a tasting as you do a snowball fight!"

"Not yet," Ryhalt replies to Amari. "Though, I do have some expeditions planned for purpose of finding a location for a new port. There have been talks over the years of looking for more historical roots, but they never came to fruition. However, the more I read, the more I want to look. So, sometime in the future, yes." Speaking of adventure, he notes Ezra's wave and grins, waving in return. He smiles and nods to confirm Mia's assertion they seem to have met and chuckles.

Wylla has joined the Bar.

Lisebet would never ask such a wide open question on purpose, would she? Okay, perhaps so. She is not able to answer the allspice question, leaving that to Michael or Mia or at least someone more knowledgeable than she is. "I missed that event, but it sounds like it was a lovely time, Princess Graziella." She turns to watch and listen as Mia starts doing introductions.

Ezra brotherly-cheek-kisses Mia in return. "See, you mean that with love. The only reason you damn us with such faint praise is that you have the emotional literacy of a dusty bucket, Mia. I know what you really mean is, 'my brothers together, or separately, are in fact shining paragons of intelligence, virtue, and helpful consideration and I love them soooo so, much.'" He is not above rewriting a narrative to suit him.
A rush of introductions follows. "Of course," Ezra agrees regarding Michael, being quite close to and fond of Bislands overall, and the rest are a flood of new names, sorta-known names, slightly overwhelming amount of names, which he manages with a sort of, "Ah, oh, hello. Hello," for anyone Mia points out. And there is, of course, a curious glance sent toward the mysterious Silvio.

The Deepwood Marquessa seems to have taken a sample of every type of cider on tap, and has set out the various mugs on the large table. She's taking a sip of each one, and then lining the mugs up by order of arbitrary indicates of which one is best. She glances over toward Ezra as Mia makes introductions, and inclines her head when she is mentioned. "A pleasure to see you, Lord Ezra," she says with a soft smile, which seems to almost perfectly distract attention away from the shadows under her eyes. "I hope you are doing well?" She takes another sip of cider, and puts the mug down. As Wylla arrives, the Deepwood Marquessa inclines her head to the Archlector. The Marquessa seems to be quite tipsy by this point, having tasted several of the ciders by now. Her gaze shifts over to Artur as he arrives to greet Michael, and smiles, picking up another mug.

Graziella nods easily and admits with a passing sort of pride, "It was, quite the evening.." Smirking sweetly she seems content to return her focus to the cider in her hands and not dominate the conversation or the co-host's attention.

Amari laughs at the exchange between Michael and Adalyn. "Cute." She decides it all is, the yelling. "And you're right, better to be remembered that not." When Mia puts her name out there, seemingly in an attempt to get everyone more or less introduced, she dips her head politely to all and sundry. That's her, she confirmed it. "I'd love to hear more of your insights some day, Prince Silvio." She says even as her attention is directed to the door, and Ezra. There's recognition in her eyes, and a mild smile offered the man, "Lord Ezra." And more follow! "Blessed Wylla, hello. Your Highness!" It's a parade of somewhat familiar to her faces! She's enjoying it, but still manages to look away and listen to Ryhalt. "Oh, you really should. I may have some notes on Westrock Reach. You probably already have the same, but I'd happily share over tea." She really loves tea, apparently.

Adalyn waves enthusiastically toward Michael, as though her LOUD greeting wouldn't have been enough to lead him right toward her. "What a perfect idea for an event. And-" She glances toward Artur, her face falling into a look of dismay as she overhears his remarks. "I missed the snowball fight? How was it?" She turns back toward Michael, sending a faintly accusatory glance his way, the sort that suggests her missing the event is somehow all /his/ fault.

She does recover her manners in time for introductions to be made, a respectful bow of her head offered to Mia and a polite smile for Ezra. "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Ezra." And then there are others arriving, which prompts a cheerful wave to the newcomers, unfamiliar though they may be.

"I've always told you that I like your brother, right Mia?" Michael can't help but join in to Mia's ribbing. The man reaches for Adalyn's back so he can lean far far over to plunk a kiss into her cheek. "Hosting a tasting is easy. You put booze out. You wait for people to drink it. Then people compliment you for giving away free booze." See! Artur proves how easy it is. Its splendid and he just go there! That same hand lifts to wave at Artur, then /wave/ that man over his way promptly.

"Looooord Ezra..." Silvio draws it out in a musical fashion and leans back in his chair. He lifts his current mug, a fresh blush on his cheeks as he casts the man a winsome smile. "The famous Lord Ezra? The one who wrestled the Lion of the Lycene and won 20,000 gold? I've heard of you! Of course I have! Such a pleasure, no, an honor really, to be here in your presence. I am, of course," he touches his own chest, "Prince Silvio Velenosa."

Amari is overheard praising Michael: He speaks truth.

Wylla offers bright smiles to both Samantha and then Amari, taking a moment to put an order in, as well as some coffee for the Templar guard who followed her in. "Well!" she says, to no one in particular, turning in her seat to look at the room and it's collection of people. "This is delightful." The coffee is brought to her guard, who gives Wylla a grateful gesture, and Wylla raises her mug of cider in return. And then she's looking about, openly eavesdropping as she takes a sip.

Samantha is overheard praising Michael: The Duke knows how to bring people together.

Ryhalt grins to Amari and nods, "I always enjoy speaking of home, even if it's what I already know. Sometimes having a different set of eyes on it has a way of revealing something missed."

"Doing well, thank you," Ezra confirms to the kind inquiry from Samantha, dipping his head in a manner that suggests the formality of a bow toward similar kind greetings from Amari and Adalyn.
Then of course there's Silvio, and Ezra blinks for a moment at this particular description of himself. Oh no! He blushes, less because of the cider he's seemed to find in hand and more because he's him. "Oh, how spectacularly awkward, er... no, I didn't realize there were so many potential Lord Ezras. You'll have to check a little further down the list, I'm actually listed in the appendix under 'not famous Lord Ezra' and there's a summary that says, 'Managed to leave Twainfort once.'" He does crook one corner of his mouth up in a smile though. "It's a pleasure, Prince Silvio Velenosa."

Artur doesn't need much encouragement to get shuffling over towards Michael. "Oh, it was great fun!" he replies to Adalyn's question as he goes. "I got to die at least twice, _and_ I scored a charming chapeau as my crowning achievement!" He takes a swig of his cider as he goes to take a free seat nearby Michael. "I suppose you're not wrong about that! Free drinks are always a crowd-pleaser. Especially ones as good as these." He lifts his mug slightly in a salute. "So. What have I missed?" he asks the group at large.

Artur has joined the Large Table.

Silvio seems completely pleased with Ezra

"You certainly should like my brother," she replies, tartly to Michael, "considering that Ezra is quite possibly my favorite person in all of Arvum aside from my own children, which I am contractually obligated to say by virtue of being their mother. And I have positively impeccable taste." A pause. "My affection for the man is, however, absolutely no reflection on his tolerability or usefulness. Because I assure you, Lord Ezra is absolutely intolerable. I mean, did you hear how he just addressed me? His elder sister *and* his liege? He's insufferable. And rude. And probably smells funny." At the last, Mia actually dares to smile - in public no less! - with all the sickening sweetness reserved for squabbling siblings attempting to look innocent in front of their parents, who notably are not here. "And most definitely has never wrestled a lion of the Lyceum, or anywhere else for that matter."

12 Grayson House Guards arrives, following Liara.

By this point, Lisebet is just settled with her cider, listening, and trying not to laugh. She might not be succeeding at that last bit.

Despite her sampling of the ciders, Samantha does only take a few sips of each, hovering just on the edge of happy-tipsy, but never plunging into the dangers waters of total inebriation. Eventually, she seems to have had her fill, and has the mugs lined up in order of her own preferences. She offers a smile to Ezra, and inclines her head. "I'm glad to hear it, my lord," she says pleasantly. She doesn't sample any more ciders at this point, and lifts her hands to rub at her temples briefly. As the room fills up with more and more people, she seems to withdraw into herself a little bit, instead settling back to watch others in their merriment.

Adalyn leans in to trade cheek-kisses with Michael. "You're so clever. Do you think such an event would work just as delightfully with a milk tasting?" Her brows lift, an innocent glance slipped between Michael and Amari. She can't be serious, though; moments later, the beginnings of a teasing grin give her away entirely. Ezra's response draws a delighted peal of laughter and a theatrical sigh. "I'm so envious. Death by snowball is such a dramatic way to go, and to do it /twice/?"

So late that she runs the risk of all the cider having already been tasted, Liara shows up. There's momentary bustle about the door as her retinue make their way inside, about half of them disperse around the edges of the tavern, while the Grayson herself proceeds further in, waves and quick smiles offered to greet various people.

Silvio seems completely pleased with Ezra's response to his sporting that he casts the woodsman an honestly amused smile. Fingers drum on his mug a moment, like he's pondering what's to become of it all for a moment and then he nods. "You must be the Lord Ezra who is a very good sport...along with being, apparently, /intolerable/." He chuckles and lifts his glass to Mia as well. "What do you have to say to that? Is she right?"

"I was unaware that Ezra and I had wrestled. We'll have to do so again." Its a pun. Because Bisland and Lions. Either way though, something is amiss. Michael unwinds from the grasp of Mia to give her a long side look. Something is strange here. Something is worrying. A nice and bubbly Mia makes Michael skitter sideways to find Adalyn and safer grounds for conversation. "Don't tempt a man, Adalyn. I can and will host a milk tasting competition. Along with a petting zoo so you can pick where your milk comes from."

Graziella finishes her mug and sets it down before sliding back to her feet and sneaking out on her squidly boots... perhaps sneaking is too strong a word; she certainly doesn't say farewell to anyone though and she draws much less attention leaving than she did upon arriving.

Graziella has left the Window Booth.

6 Ivory Shields leaves, following Graziella.

Ezra laughs at Mia's retort, cheeks still flushed a little from, ah, gods, attention and people, but it doesn't seem to be completely terrible of an experience. "Maybe I wrestle lions in secret, Mia, you don't know," he replies. "That's why I smell funny, fresh off it, just come from the stables and boom, apex predator, no help for it but to tackle the beast and literally save everyone. You're welcome. Ingrate." Then human lions are introduced to the equation by Michael and the flush deepens. "Oh, well... I'd lose that match quite completely," he laughs. "I do miss Pridehall, though, it might be the only place I feel comfortable at along with the Twainfort..."
Silvio gets a smile that is somehow both shy and unrepentant. "I do what I want," he replies, "So, yes, she's completely right."

12 Grayson House Guards have been dismissed.

"As long as it's alcoholic milk..." Artur muses to Adalyn's hypothetical, frowning down at his cider and trying to imagine it as milk. He moves on quickly though, a proud, boyish beam and an emphatic nod when Adalyn reacts to his dramatics. "Yes. _Twice_," he confirms. "Although I think the Duke stole the show, getting knocked off the stands before the battle had even really begun," he ribs lightly, giving Michael a sidelong grin.

Lisebet inclines her head to the High Lord Grayson when she arrives. She stays out of the milk discussion, perhaps not having anything good to say there. For her part she's now taste testing her second cider, and now she starts looking about to see who might have snuck in and not been greeted yet by the hosts, if anyone.

"Milk tasting...?" Yes, Amari is intrigued by this idea and is waiting to hear more. Adalyn knows her so well. Unfortunately, standing is not her forte right now, so she backs herself to the bar to lean up against it once more. A look of relief softens the subtle tightness in her jaw soon after. "When you next have the time, Duke Ryhalt, feel free to call on me." She says, before she's looking for someone else to possible rope into an afternoon tea. Wylla, maybe? "I was going to ask after your kitten, but by now he must be full grown. It's been that long already."

Silvio gasps and puts his hand to his heart. "That's exactly what I do too, but people love me!" At least, he lives his life like they do! When someone makes a claim of being a lion, he looks Michael's way and does a peruse of the man up and down, thoughtful and a bit judging. In the end though, there's a scrunch of his lips and a nod. "Lion seems fair." He draws in a breath with the mug close to his face, breathing that warm, scented air, before another sip and a bit of a 'lost in thought' or perhaps a daydream, under long lashes. "So many choices..." he murmurs, though...is he talking about the cider or what?

Amari has joined the Bar.

"I almost always am," Mia confirms. About her rightness. Obviously. If there is one thing that Mia Riven does very well, besides maintaining the cool reserve whose fading has frightened off poor Michael, it's Being Very Certain of Her Opinions. There's even a sharp nod to emphasize that fact, followed by slipping her hand into the crook of Ezra's arm now that she's without an escort. Even though no, he didn't offer either. "As for what you do in secret, I'd rather not know, thank you. That's the entire point of secrets and they're no challenge to uncover if all you have to do is ask. I would much prefer them to explode in the middle of the Assembly of Peers, preferably while I'm giving an address to His Majesty. That really is the best way and makes for the most scandal, and I do know how you love to be the center of attention." In short, she's noticed how the man is blushing and it would've been much, much simpler for her to just say so.

Wylla is caught mid-sip when Amari speaks to her, but she's quick to swallow, flailing a hand as she tries not to sputter. Laughing, she nods. "Splat? Splat is quite big, yes. He keeps my lap warm these days when I am silly enough to sit while I'm painting." She grins.

"How do you do, Duchess?" inquires Liara as she comes to a dawdling pause near enough to Lisebet. "I am glad to see that I have not quite missed everything, and, my, you have drawn quite a crowd." Someone shows up with a mug of cider for Liara, and she accepts it with a ready smile before going to take a sip.

Ezra grudgingly allows Mia to take his arm. "I would die," he announces for this hypothetical situation in which secrets explode all over the assembly of peers. His secrets? Unthinkable. "I would actually die. And I still might, what is this, since when do we talk about me at social events? I'm here to stand next to the wall and look pretty, that's it." And yet, he can't help asking Prince Silvio, "Choices of what?"

Lisebet rises at this point, which entirely puts the lovely Audgrim designed outfit she's wearing on show. "Your grace, I am doing well, thank you. I am glad so many people are able to come by and share some time with each other. Also, the cider is delicious; so far they are all good." She does glance around, and then back to Liara. "Do you know everyone? Or is there anyone you've not met yet? If so, we could go introduce ourselves?"

After a time, Samantha quietly rises from her seat, and excuses herself, all polite smiles and pleasant words. To Michael and Lisebet she says, "Thank you for hosting such a welcoming event. I've enjoyed all of the ciders. Each has its own merits," she says diplomatically. "I really should be going." Then she turns and quietly takes her leave, the Deepwood guards who are present peeling themselves away from the walls and following her.

Ryhalt grins to Amari and nods to her. "I will, soon." As Liara arrives he also smiles to her and inclines his head in greeting. Coming to the end of his robust cider, he glances between the other selections before picking the spiced one next.

Adalyn laughs when Michael seems game to host just such an event, amused but not particular surprised. "I'm not sure how well that would go over. But you could also add various mix-ins. Alcohol-" She tilts her head toward Artur in acknowledgment of his remark. "-honey, chocolate." Emboldened by Amari's curiosity, she gestures to her friend. "At least we know some of our fellow Oathlanders might enjoy it, if no one else." Her gaze follows Amari's movements toward the bar, a smile forming as she overhears the conversation between her and Wylla. "Splat the cat? Cute."

Nursing the cider mug in both hands, Liara takes a contemplative look about following Lisebet's question, though before answering, offers over a quick smile to Samantha. "Marquessa Deepwood, a pleasure to see you, however briefly." A flutter of a wave is offered to Ryhalt.

Amari laughs and nods excitedly as Wylla says the name of the kitten-that's-now-a-round-old-cat, "Splat! I'd forgotten his name but that's so apt. I love it. I just remember holding him for you once, I think it may have been at one of the Thrax birthdays at the beach. They used to invite people to fish oysters out of the ocean and find the one with the pearl in it. I don't remember either of us faring well, but Splat was very cute." Adalyn is correct. Cute name, cute kitten. "It feels like things have changed quite a lot since then, doesn't it?"

As Liara greets her, Samantha pauses long enough to pay her respects to the Grayson Highlord. "Your Grace," she says, dipping a perfectly correct curtsey. "I am sorry that I could not stay to socialize further. It is good to see you again as well." She offers a soft, apologetic smile, and then turns to continue her exit from the Badger.

"You've willingly come out in public without me dragging you here by your ear, Ezra. You've gone and given me *ideas* about making a socialite of you yet," she says, utterly wicked, with a spark of mischief lurking in her dark eyes. This, despite maintaining a carefully solemn face, as if pondering the movement of pieces on a cheesboard. Gods help poor, poor Ezra. He knows what it means when Mia gets an idea. The trouble is usually in determining whether or not she's serious with whatever absurdly ambitious statement follows thereafter. Whatever it is, she leans towards the man to murmur it towards him, giving a half-distracted wave to Samantha as she moves to leave.

Samantha has left the Large Table.

Judge, Kessi, a big-eared, fuzzy fennec fox, 7 House Deepwood Guards leave, following Samantha.

Wylla beams. "He is, yes. My constant companion. He keeps the Shrine clear of rodents but it's only as a living scarecrow; he looks scarier than he is but it's only because he's constantly yawning." Another sip from her mug, her legs kicking a little and she adjusts in her seat. Ahem. "Ooh, potent, stuff this. And yes, you aren't wrong. Much has happened. I'll admit, I keep my head in my work and focus on my corner of existence as best as I can. Sometimes it seems, since my return from my pilgrimage, my mind is still out at sea, in the clouds and dreaming."

Lisebet also waves to the departing Samantha, then turns her attention over to Ezra thoughtfully. "Marquessa Mia," she says, as she finishes her current cider, thus necessitating that she move to the third type to taste test, "I believe I heard you mention my name earlier? There's someone I should particularly meet?" She excuses herself briefly at the table, but gestures where she's going in invitation for Liara and whoever else to come along with her. Ezra gets a long look.

Mia mutters, "I don't know if ... ... ... ... coming ... of Ashford Keep ... not, ... I ... that you and maybe ... ... ... her uncover whatever it is that's going ... ... there. ... ... ... suspicions, ... that ... was a ... ... which ... always means ... ... ... ... with Her Grace at the moment, and I ... you're inclined to be presented ... the High Lady, especially ... ... many people ..."

Silvio arches his dark brows and sits up straight, "I had you marked for a man that would turn into stammers when put on the spot, but look at you, being so utterly charming," he lowers his voice for dramatic effect, "in front of everyone." His eyes glint and a subtle smile plays on his face. Glancing to Mia, he taps his chin, then offers, "I could give lessons." His mouth pops open to say something further, but, right...not still in the Lyceum.

"Alcoholic honey and chocolate?" Artur continues to suggest innocently, as to the milk-tasting. He takes another sip of his cider. "Splat the cat? Now I want a kitten! I should get a kitten! Do they get on with goats?" he wonders, rubbing his chin with his free hand, which is then raised to wave jovially at those departing.

Michael mutters, "Are you ... to ... upon my ... ... ... event, Adalyn? Or do I ... to ... some ... pretty ... ... has no ... in ... ... to do so?"

"Mostly chocolate. Some honey." Michael remarks to Adalyn's musing of how to make it fun. "Petting cows would probably be quite enough of an allure." Now its Adalyn who is foisted upon his arm, by means of his hand in hers to thread it through his elbow and pin it snug against his side. "Vigil is with Sir Gabriel, or I'm sure I'd have a kitten to foist onto you, Prince Artur. That cat is a tomcat and is sure to have fathered another litter. Just not my worry anymore."

Mostly nursing the cider, and not in a particular hurry to actually drink it (though this is a habit she has with just about any drink imaginable), Liara turns a curious look aside to Lisebet, then heads on over after her, mentioning on the way, "I have at least encountered almost everyone, but whether I have conversed with people is quite a different matter." She overhears Michael's mention of petting cows and turns a /look/ that way, though her expression betrays some amusement.

Mia has gone too far, TOO FAR, and now her little baby brother has revoked arm privileges and is trying to extricate himself. "You said SOCIALITE and me in the same sentence, no, no... no... this is me running away now. Cider's quite good though, almost a note of -- oh, where was I? No, definitely running awa--" He does pause this effort to listen to Mia, consider, and murmur back.
There is, however, of course, a self-effacing and smile tilted Silvio's way. And more of that embarrassed blushing. "I'm potentially the least charming person I've ever met, but since it would be so ungracious of me to disagree with you -- especially following the disappointment with the gold and the lion -- I'll just leave it at, er, thank you."

"Oh? Next time I'm over there sweeping Petrichor's holy stump, I'll have to stop in and see him." Amari decides, thinking that a fine thing to do. She goes on to more sadly reveal, "I never had a cat growing up. The trouble with being a Keaton, I suppose. Hounds everywhere. The only cats around Oakhaven all lived in the rafters or only came out at night." But no matter, she lifts a hand and has more cider brought for her and Wylla. "Here, I think this one is milder and less robust... where was it you went on pilgrimage? Is there a holy place of Jayus' somewhere afar?"

Lisebet nods to Liara. "I think mostly the same for me, though I don't believe I've met Marquessa Mia's brother. And it's been forever since I last saw Blessed Wylla." There's a finger wiggle much the same as Amari usually uses her way and then she's over there with Mia and Ezra. "Good day, have you met High Lady Liara?" she asks. There's such an innocent and gentle look on Lisebet's face; she surely has no idea what she's just done.

"I wonder if my father would even notice if I snuck a kitten into the house. Between the chickens, horses, and hounds..." The Clement House is a busy place, or so it seems. Adalyn appears perfectly content to stroll with her arm threaded through Michael's until her assistant slips up beside her to whisper urgently in her ear. She blinks, offers a swift nod, and then sends an apologetic look toward her patron, murmuring a quiet remark. "I have to be on my way. It was lovely to see you all. And a wonderful event, Michael. We'll continue plotting soon!" With that, she's waving to those nearby and striding toward the door to deal with whatever has snagged her attention.

Alphonse, a long-suffering assistant leaves, following Adalyn.

Wylla smiles at Lisebet before looking back to Amari. "Ah! Well ... that's a bit of a story." She sips from the new cider, purring in pleasure. "Lovely, this. Mmm. Ah, so-" Wylla starts to explain to Amari that she had a strange feeling sometime after Guildmaster Joscelin Arterius left the city- "-everyone said she just disappeared but it seemed the stories were all different. Someone said they saw her leave on a boat, another by caravan. Both stories wholly unbelievable, given she was terrified to set foot outside the city." Another sip. "And then ... I dreamt of her, and that day she left. It was just ... the most inspiring day." Her voice trails off; she might be drunk, as she's staring dreamily at nothing, lost in memory for a moment. And then she hiccups.

"Oh!" says Wylla, a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry... where was I? Oh right. So, that day, and then that night, I had a dream and suddenly I needed to find her. Find where she went. Josie. Jayus called me to it, and so I found a boat heading in the general direction I felt I needed to go, and ..." Again, her voice trails off and the Archlector shrugs.

Whatever it is that Mia and Ezra are murmuring about to one another, the Marquessa pauses at the call of her name, eyes flitting over to approaching Lisebet and Liara. Both of her brows arch, as if something she means to communicate to her fellow Riven has driven the poor things to try to beat a hasty retreat to the safety of her hairline. There's a step forward, halfway between the approaching ladies, and she dips into a low curtsy. "Duchess Ashford. I have had the pleasure of meeting Her Grace before, yes," she says, the curtsy and reply apparently more for Liara than anyone else, given where her dark eyes rest. "But no, I don't believe you've met my brother, Lord Ezra Riven. He's one of our Houses finest scouts, and given the interests of House Ashford and our own relation through cousin Quintin, I thought it warranted an introduction."

Ezra looks a little like a deer in a hunter's sights all frozen for a moment, as Lisebet makes an introduction he wasn't expecting, and which has been preceded by him being a brat to both Mia and Silvio at this event. Terrible circumstances! Pull it together Ezra!
He does manage to properly bow along with Mia's curtsy. "Duchess Ashford, Princess Liara," he greets, and now he's blushing because Mia called him a fine scout. And not just because a Velenosa Prince talked to him. He has a whole vocabulary of different blushing, here. "An honor to meet you both."

"Ooh, cows!" That's got Artur's attention too. "Now that might be a worthy milk-tasting event," he agrees. "You _do_ know how to throw them, don't you." He gives Michael a nod of deep respect. "You could have kittens too. They have barn cats, don't they?" He's got animals on the brain now, it seems, as he finishes his first cider and calls for his valet to bring him another.

Silvio glides to his feet and reaches to the back of his chair to get his cloak. "To the Duke and Duchess...an excellent tasting. I found myself highly entertained by the company and the beverages. No one has heard or seen the last of me this evening." He grins, then casts a bow for the few that outrank him, curls boinging down when he performs it. He lifts his fingers, and sways his way out!

Replying with a little duck of her chin to Mia and Ezra, Liara says, "Marquessa Riven, I trust the day finds you well." Then, thoughts almost inevitably careening to business, she says to Ezra, "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Ezra. A fine scout? Should you find yourself otherwise unoccupied, there is quite some demand for such talents at present, although I dare say you have heard as much umpteen times already today."

Silvio has left the Large Table.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Ezra," Lisebet says, the words mimicking Liara's. "I think scouts are definitely in high demand, all things considered. Perhaps we should get together and chat when we have time?" She's not going to get to too much business, just a suggestion for later.

Amari tries this supposedly milder variety of cider, and sits there with eyes narrowed after she's had a generous drink of it. She's a cider connoisseur, clearly. Her judgement? "Mm!" That's the winner so far. She doesn't interrupt Wylla's tale beyond that, but listens with her eyebrows up a titch, not seeming to mind the hiccups and meanders overly much. "That's entirely more exciting than a regular old pilgrimage, more a quest, really. Did you eventually find Joscelin or some trace of her? I do miss her from time to time, even though we weren't well acquainted. Every so often I'm going through my jewelry box, and there's the wedding ring she made for me, glinting there sadly."

Wylla seems delighted to hear that Amari has a piece by Joscelin. "Oh, all her pieces bring joy, so do take care of that," she advises. Another sip and a smothered hiccup this time. "It was a bit of a quest, yes. And-" She pauses. "I found her. Or, rather, she found me. I think." That dreamy look comes back and ... yes, her legs are swinging a little, the short woman as happy as a small child with her cider and the story she spins. "I wrote about it in my Whites when I returned. Whether it was dehydration or something else, can't say." She taps her nose. And hiccups.

"I -- it's rather recently been mentioned," Ezra confirms about the scouting, seeming a bit troubled about this new topic. "It might be better to discuss it at a quieter time, but I can say with certainty that I'd be both able and willing to help however I can, Duchess, your grace." A nod of confirmation to each of them!

Painbow, a militant pygmy goat arrives, delivering a message to Amari before departing.

"It does, thank you, Your Grace. I do hope you're enjoying the tasting even half as much." And then, apparently taking it upon herself to answer for her brother for whatever reason, Mia adds, "You're more than welcome to join us at Heron Hall for tea some afternoon. My cousin Liam is also returning to us from the Twainfort and his duties with his fellow Solace for the first time in well over a year, so I doubt you've had the chance to meet him, either, Duchess. A true knight if any man is."

"I will." Amari assures before realizing something else, tangentially related. Sitting up on a stool finally, she drags her leather satchel bag into her lap and pats it. "Her poor departed husband made this. I'm afraid I'll wear it out, but it's perfect. It's like an old friend at this point." But, that's not the most important. What Wylla has said is. She hmms speculatively. "Maybe in a dream then? That'd be fitting. I'd like to think she's out there. That's a good story."

Ryhalt finishes enjoying his last cider before he says farewells and slips out onto some other business.

Liara offers a small smile to Ezra, agreeing readily, "A matter for a quieter time indeed." Then she confirms to Mia, "I am indeed, although I may be hard-pressed to try many different varieties. I am glad to hear that Lord Liam is returning - I met him last winter, myself."

"Mmm. Joscelin is a singular talent, isn't she?" Michael's use of present-tense seems very improtant now that Wylla is speaking of Joscelin as being alive. He'll step towards her several times to nearly put him amid the circle of conversation but not quite yet. "I do believe theres a piece of hers sitting in a velvet lined box at home. Waiting to be gifted."

Lisebet thinks through, and shakes her head. "No I do not believe I've met Lord Liam as yet. I look forward to it. Do let me know when and I'll do my best to make myself available." to Mia. She definitely agrees that some business needs discussing elsewhere, but is glad to meet new people. "I've so far tried the mulled cider and the dry. I prefer the mulled at this point. There's the robust and the spiced to go."

Ezra glances at Mia as though to confirm he hasn't done his house some terrible dishonor in wrangling his way through perfectly normal greetings, then feeling perhaps there's been success there, offers a smile to Lisebet and Liara. "A pleasure to meet you both. I should go, but -- please keep it in mind. Where I can help, I will help." He bows, then gives Mia a little farewell cheek kiss that actually is fond in spite of it all, and slips out!

Painbow, a militant pygmy goat arrives, delivering a message to Amari before departing.

Wylla nods in agreement to Amari, and then lifts her wrist. "I woke up on the boat with this." It's a simple gold bangle, the soft metal polished to a bright shine. "No matter what I do, it always seems to stay so shiny." She spins it with her other hand after setting down her cider. "In the dream she put it on me and told me to ... bring something back with me." She admires Amari's satchel. "She has one like that. And an apron, too; I gave it to someone. A friend of hers." Her brow furrows. "Which one ... Ah, this cloudy mind of mine. I can't remember." She peers at her mug in accusation. "Mmm. I think it was Dame Ida Ferron. There's no one alive closer to her than Dame Ida Ferron." To Michael, Wylla smiles brightly. "Oh indeed? She was humble about her skills but I think you're right, she was quite talented." She sips anew from her mug. "People have said they've seen her in the city."

Leaning to accept the peck from the departing (fleeing?) Ezra, Mia nods once in agreement to the arrangement of tea. Then she adds, "I would recommend the spiced over the robust, if you're aiming to stay on your feet. For the reasons which we discussed earlier. I find spiced cider pleasant in general in the winter, but I'll also freely admit that fondness comes with a fair bit of prejudice, given how much of it we make at the Twainfort. Summer ciders are entirely different story."

Lisebet is overheard praising Michael.

Lisebet nods her head, and says, "Then I shall try the spiced, indeed, thank you, Marquessa." She nods to the departing Ezra as well, and lends half an ear to Wylla's story, moving back to her table quietly.

Artur's gotten lost in his own thoughts again (about cows and kittens), but some part of him has been listening. "Sounds like one interesting dream," he muses, as he returns back to reality, offering another wave to those who are leaving. "I've had realistic dreams, but none have ever left me with jewellery, I don't think."

"I had to own a piece or two of hers. My mother spoke fondly of Joscelin very frequently. So something of hers to have around reminds me of my mother when she isn't around." Michael reclaims his hot cider which has definitely cooled to a tepid cider. "The only remnants of dreams I've been left with is Black Sand. Which is not very good."

Amari leans in some so she can admire the bangle, and though of a simple make, Wylla isn't lying. It's shiny. "Huh. That's amazing... I love dreams, even if mine tend to include at least one terrifying thing or another. You must have everyone wandering in to the shrine to ask you about their own." Artur's comments prompt a smile, and Michael's too of. "That's sweet, Duke Michael. Funny how much sentiment things like that tend to gather."

Wylla sips from her mug again, then MMMs in delight as Michael mentions Iona. "Your mother put her on her path to becoming a Crafter, did you know that?" To Amari, Wylla beams. "Not many, but yes, it happens!"

There's something that someone said -- maybe Michael? -- that draws Mia's attention away from her current conversation, her dark brows furrowing together. Eyes flick from one familiar face to another, and another, though they rest on those she doesn't know, Artur and Wylla, a moment longer. Whatever it is she's got on her mind, it seems that Lianna is finally brave enough to approach, as she'd never interrupt a conversation with the High Lady, to pass Mia a message that's apparently been waiting for her attention.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Mia before departing.

"Oh, my mother has spoken a great deal of Joscelin. I doubt I know all the intricacies of their relationship but I know they were very close." Michael's eyebrows lift along with his smile widening towards Wylla. "Joscelin was very kind to me whenever we encountered one another."

Liara offers a smile to the departing Ezra, then quiets for the moment to sample a little more of her cider. She mentions to Mia, "It was good to meet your brother, however briefly." Her next remark's directed to Lisebet (and probably Michael but he's away over there somewhere), "I am delighted to see the Badger used for functions. I do enjoy the place."

Lisebet has left the Large Table.

Ramona - A Guard in Ashford House Colours, Bigsby - A Thoughtful Looking Young Man in Nondescript Clothing, 2 Ashford Archer, 1 Ashford Scout leave, following Lisebet.

At being addressed once more, Mia's head lifts from her page, which she swiftly tucks away into one of the pouches strung on her belt. "Very kind of you to say, Your Grace. High title easily overwhelms him, I'm afraid. I've been trying to get him to meet Her Majesty for weeks now given some common interests they share, but he's been skeptical of her willingness to speak with him despite the amount of time she's spent in Heron Hall's kitchens, chatting cheerfully away with our cook. More at home in the trees than at court, that one."