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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 5:24:16 GMT
A bard plays an old song--Tinker's Tune, popular and catchy if a little bit profane sometimes--and the more sociable patrons of Hevesta's Grace stop and sing along with the nastiest parts of the chorus but otherwise continue their conversations at their tables. It's a small crowd tonight, enough to make sure the innkeeper's lamb goulash goes unwasted, but not enough to really be considered a crowd.
The bard finishes his song and takes a bow, pausing for applause before starting a new song. It's unfamiliar, possibly written by the bard himself, but not bad. It's just background noise, not very important. What's important is the young lady at a table alone.
Her name is Fiona Witherfox, scion of a respectable house, and she clapped a little too enthusiastically back when the bard finished his song. She's out of place in general: her clothes are too clean, too fine, and her pale skin and soft hands probably haven't even once seen a day's work under the sun. Her cheeks are ruddy from half a tankard of ale, and you'd think this was the first time she'd ever stepped foot into a traveler's tavern. You'd be right.
A noblewoman sitting alone at an inn like this would be suspicious, but people with an ear close to the ground know that she's looking for adventurers that're willing to take on a respectable quest. There's a family heirloom lost somewhere out there and plenty of gold exchanged for its speedy retrieval. She's posted signs around town and paid the towncallers to spread the word; tonight, she finds out if anyone is interested.
She's plenty safe at the inn--adventurers don't take very kindly to those that thieve on potential employers--but that was hardly her concern. Her concern is that no one would be willing to take on the job. She's no princess, and the proposed quest isn't terribly glorious. Maybe she should've come up with a grand lie; a dragon to smite, perhaps? That'd attract attention, surely. No, that'd be... disingenuous. More disingenuous than already, even.
Nervously, she waits. open for up to 5 characters interested in participating in the prologue. Alternative prologue plot hook thread is here. In case it isn't obvious, fiona will send you merry troopers to some location ON A FETCH QUEST. It is not what it seems. Clearly. Apologies for then present tense. It seemed better for setting a mood. Feel free to revert to past tense.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2013 0:04:32 GMT
aren't you
something
to admire,
cause you shine
so bright
like a
star
 Taking a sip of ale from her mug, Lucrezia surveyed the inn's guests littered around the room in various groups. She was seated comfortably in a plush, wing-back chair while sporting a bored look on her petty face. On the table across from her were two other guests, a traveler and his excitable wife. The traveler was trying to hold a conversation about politics and some sort of religion, two things Lucrezia had no particular interest in. She perked up, however, when she spotted pink tresses across the room. The owner was seated alone. And at first she believed the pink locks to belong to her beloved Antonia, but upon second glance she realized that she was unluckily mistaken. There was no doubt that the lone woman was appealing, but she was too proper looking and lady-like to be Antonia. So she returned her interest back to the other guest. In hopes that her absent companion would turn up shortly. LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2013 17:30:42 GMT
Gloved hands pulled open the heavy oaken doors of the inn, and a cloak damp and dripping from the rain outside motioned inside to find salvation of heat from the hearth. Pulling back the tanned hood, a head of gold and eyes of ice became visible to the patrons; although nothing menacing, as the barer of such appearance wore a genuinely curious expression on a porcelain face. He gaze danced from man to woman to man, seeking out the target, one known to have a vibrant head of hair. Two fit the description: and both were ladies. One acted far more oblivious to the horrors of reality, and immediately painted herself as his target, a noble woman with no grasp on life outside castle walls and servicemen.
Justus uncloaked himself, hanging the fabric on a conveniently placed hanger next to the door, before starting over towards the woman. He bobbed and weaved through the mess of chairs and patrons, eventually finding himself before the lady. A beautiful thing, and a damsel that was desperately and definitely in need of aid. "Excuse me, might you be Lady Fiona? I am here hoping to offer the assistance you have been searching for." he announced with sincerity in his voice.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2013 19:13:29 GMT
On the other hand, Darst Vecchio was 200% sure that this lady was absolutely not Lady Antonia Prenderghast. She looked far too innocent and, quite frankly, nice to be the woman. Still, the man shuddered ever so slightly at the memories that the sight of pink hair summoned anyways. He hadn't seen her ever since he'd ferried the woman across the ocean on a diplomatic trip. Admittedly, Darst did admire the woman's preference of practicality over pomp and circumstance, but he would rather keel over dead than speak of it to her.
There was already another blond man standing before the lady. He appeared quite capable, and if he should be issued as an ally, Darst had very little to be bothered about it (granted, Darst was rarely bothered by anyone at all). He looked dependable. That was about all that the wanderer could ask for.
He bowed his head ever so slightly as he approached Justus and Lady Fiona. "Ah, I apologize for eavesdropping, but I happen to be searching for the Lady Fiona as well." Very little information had been divulged for the quest so far, but Darst's curiosity was rarely ever sated. He was a cat with nine lives; even if curiosity killed him, he'd be back.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2013 21:59:57 GMT
The smell of night grips her cloak as she returns to the tavern. Antonia has it in her mind to be off to her room. She is not the sort to sing along to the bard. She is still angry about her various encounters with Greyhollow men and she desires a cold cup of milk to distract herself.
But before she could reach the staircase, she hears a rough chatter. They say that a lady sits by the bard. She is distressed. She has been looking for help. But she concludes the voices are cowards because they dismiss the request and precede her to their rooms. It doesn't take much effort for Antonia to walk across the dining hall, and she presses her self between the two suitors, one she has already recognized.
"Well if it isn't another buttercup. Marvelous. Listen, gentlemen, why don't you leave this to a proper swordarm," she says, hardly a question in her tone. "We do not want anyone to get hurt, do we? Especially you, my beloved canary~ We need you in the kitchens," she smiles knowingly, leaning towards Darst's face and patting him on the cheek. Then, Antonia shoots a bullish and silent glance at the other fair man before perking up and noticing her old companion, serenity itself, sitting beside the fireplace. A hope breaks the red at the edge of her vision. She excuses herself. "I will return in a moment while I collect a party of capable hands."
With one last comfortable grin and a rich, mean laugh, she marches to the other end of the room where Lucrezia Gavell had settled herself like a swan on her nest. Antonia makes an elegant gesture, like a bow, with her white glove. "We meet again. Would you honor me with your assistance in helping the lady over yonder. There are too many fools about."
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Post by Deleted on Aug 13, 2013 22:23:03 GMT
aren't you
something
to admire,
cause you shine
so bright
like a
star
It wasn't long before Lucrezia's wish had come true. Sure enough as soon as Antonia had arrived and finished her conversation with a few familiar fellow, she waltzed her way over to the eccentric healer and graced her with an elegant greeting. Giddier than a child receiving a gift, she leaped from her seat and wrapped her arms around the pinkette's neck quite forcefully. Whilst hanging from Antonia much like an ornament, a rather large smile spread across her face from ear to ear, ''Antoniaaa! My darling! My great! I've been waiting sooo long.'' She spoke in a reasonably cheerful tone, ''Hm? Help you with a lady? Why of course! I'd help you with anything ~ '' she cooed once more and gave the woman one last squeeze before finally releasing her. Taking a few steps away and giving Antonia her space once again, Lucrezia peered over at the two light haired gentleman chatting with the noble woman whom she had mistaken for Antonia in the beginning. LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Deleted on Aug 14, 2013 6:03:45 GMT
"Yessir, I am! Fiona Witherfox, a pleasure to meet you, Mr...? And, um, how do you do?" she replied with a bright if nervous smile. She clearly hadn't the slightest clue what she was doing, as far as hiring and recruiting work went. If anyone thought about it, they might realize that even if she were a minor noble, it would probably be more normal if she'd hired a middleman--but no.
She didn't mention any titles when she introduced herself. That was probably a mistake, and Fiona cringed in hindsight, then tried to cover the cringe with yet another nervous smile.
Honestly, Fiona wasn't too sure what her supposed titles were. Viscountess, maybe? Baroness? Witherhelm was run by a Count, but wouldn't that be her grandfather? ...Did she even have any titles besides lady then? She should've done more research.
"Um," she said, a very eloquent response to Antonia. The woman was a lot to respond to. "Yes, I mean no--I mean: I agree that we wouldn't want anyone hurt. Yes, I definitely agree with that."
When Lucrezia glanced over, Fiona waved--a flutter of fingers, not entirely unlike a flock of birds taking flight for fear of their lives. She glanced to Darst, "You two know each other?"
Everyone with PER 4+ (WHICH IS ALL OF YOU) notice by her diction that Fiona is either a very laid-back noblewoman or, more likely, not a noblewoman. Despite that, she is impeccably dressed in fine cloth and genuine jewelry. Weird, huh.
Lucrezia (MAG 9+) senses glamour magic in Fiona's presence. If she squints, she'll see Fiona's skin glitter but not her true form. you detect no magic from her clothes+effects and no other magic.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 14, 2013 17:22:48 GMT
Like vultures to a body, a crowd collapsed on the woman, each offering their services. Another man was the first, similar in size to his very own, and as eager as Justus to find this woman. Before the lady would be able to confirm their suspicions, yet another vibrant haired woman trounced into the conversation, her tone and words playfully hostile, and demeaning of the men. He lacked the drive to defend himself, and he could feel the confidence in her words. Perhaps she is right, maybe I'm just not as capable as the others for this job... he'd think. Albeit his self-deprecation, Justus was far too stubborn to ever give up, just a little overbearing with his own mentality.
When the much more outspoken woman turned her attention behind, Justus kept his eyes ahead respectfully, and bowed in the chivalry that was instilled upon him, "I am known as Justus Martell. Just an able hand hoping to help those in need." His tone was beyond humble, and he even seemed to pity his own credentials. Did he lack confidence in his introduction? Not the least, but years of service in the temple had rid him of any pride. He judged Lady Fiona's speech to be directed elsewhere, and remained silent until spoken to, as much was his nature.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 16, 2013 22:36:12 GMT
Lucrezi ofa has a talent draping herself over people. Antonia accepts the embrace with her arm wrapping around the small of the Lucrezia's back, taking a moment to admire the familiar twinkle in her eyes.
"It has been far too long. Excellent, then. It is settled." In a display of feminine comradery, her arm lifted and she pulled the lady's face close in an eskimo kiss while Lucrezia squeezed her like a teddy. Football players did this sometimes, crashing their helmets together.
She offered to lead the healer to Fiona, whom Antonia unquestioningly believed to be a noble. "This is she," she said, introducing the Gavell with pride, and then, she shot a subtle glare at the men. They both seemed so dreadfully thin and impotent, like scarecrows abandoned in a fallow field. "You're still here?" she asked.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 18, 2013 0:44:09 GMT
Darst wondered why he was always wrong about things that happened. Then again, now that he thought about it, he'd parted ways with Antonia upon these very shores, so perhaps it was only natural that he should bump into her again. "Ma'am-Sir Prenderghast," he began as she patted his cheek, but before he could continue, the woman was gone.
The man gave Lady Fiona a sheepish look. "Unfortunately, yes," he responded. "My ship, the Tiamat, occasionally ferries her across the sea when business calls." It was a vessel on the small side, but it was sleek and speedy, going generally undetected by the pirates that would swarm at news of an ambassador of power going overseas. "Of course, I feel that I am no longer the captain when Miss Prenderghast graces us with her presence."
The other blond had fallen silent after an introduction. "Hey, bucker up," the man said. "C'mon, that frown won't do much, right?" Justus' expression was more passive if anything, but it was an unhappy expression in Darst's books. "Darst Vecchio, at your service, ma'am," he said to Fiona. "And please ignore all that the good lady says about me." But instead of facing Antonia with an expression of equal steel, he rubbed the back of his neck with something of a look of uncertainty.
"Surely you can give me more credit than that, no?"
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