Katherine
**
Anyanka Durkhan and the Astorian Party
Castle Grunewald, Vallen, Taemar
**
The day had dragged on for a century. If she'd wanted, she could have counted every heartbeat in the pulse of the wound that ached on her shoulder, which had been tightly wrapped finally - at Danico and Angelica's insistence. Angelica was, as usual, eager to hide any signs of weakness that might lead to further damage to the Astorian Queen's reputation, pride, or body. Anyanka herself - well she didn't seem to care. The ache had gotten to her, a headache that was made worse by the candlelight of the ceremony and the sound of the Wisdom's voice. She'd been in attendance, but further back. 

She hated weddings, and this was no exception. 

When the ceremony transitioned into festivities, she'd started to insist that her and her party should retire and begin packing their things for the journey home. There was a ship waiting for them that would take them home the same way they had come before, and she wanted to be on it before the dawn caught the bogs. Mikhail, however, had slipped from the ceremony and into the ballroom. She'd watched his ashen blonde crown head into the crowd, seemingly looking for someone, and Anya turned to Angelica. 

"I don't know either." She answered simply, letting her grip on Anya's arm tighten as they followed the flow of patrons out of the hall and into the ballroom. A wedding feast was being hosted, unofficially signaling the end of the council, and the last night for a majority of the southern leadership.

-
Angelica guided Anya in, allowing the Queen to let her eyes move over the crowd without fear of running into someone while she was distracted. Romanov was somewhere, and her annoyance with the man added to her desire to leave sooner rather than later. It had been a long time since she'd found herself angry with the man, and there was a feeling in her gut that if they were to speak tonight it wouldn't be for the better. It appeared their streak of sneaking away during gatherings had finally ended. A shame, truly. 

Anya pulled her gaze from the crowd in time for Mikhail to circle back to them, his hand touching his mother's elbow to alert her of his presence once more. 

"Find who you were looking for?" She asked, and he gave a small smile, shaking his head and pushing a hand through his hair to keep it from falling into his face. 

"No, I didn't catch the Pirate King." He answered, dropping his hand to his side and letting his gaze fall upon the bandage that peaked out of the top of his mother's dress collar. "Are you still feeling well enough to be here? We've made an appearance, we can leave if you wish." 

Anya felt her lip twitch into a sympathetic look, but she didn't comment right away. Mikhail's relationship with Bradai was one she had never expected - and on some days one she envied, as the boy seemed to look for him for leadership and answers, as if she hadn't done right by him for years before the Pirate King decided to step in as influence. Her silver eyes lifted, swiping over the crowd to confirm that she didn't see the man either, and then returned to her son.

-
"A headache." She confirmed. "We'll leave in a moment, I just wanted to see if-" Before she could finish the thought, a voice greeted them from behind. Angelica and Anya turned in unison, heads whipping to toss blonde and auburn curls alike over shoulders to face the man who had addressed them. Anya immediately realized the mistake of having reacted quickly with a surge of stars in her vision, and her grip tightened on Angelica's arm. 

The man introduced himself, and in the few seconds it took for the stars to clear she recalled his voice from the hog dangle. He was the bard, and once again before she could do much more than blink two girls were upon him. They looked about Mikhail's age, icy blonde and Northern in every feature. Angelica raised a brow, glancing to Anya, and her lips moved to fill in the blank in the Queen's mind about the name. _'Wrencrest'_. Angelica didn't know it by heart, but she'd heard it spoken when the Bard was assaulted by the pair. The Queen gave a small nod, all too aware of the way Mikhail's eyes had fallen upon the girl with a curious look, thoughts of leaving early fading with every syllable she spoke as intrigue settled over his features. 

Anya gave a small _tsk_ mentally, having thought she'd raised him better than to fall for a ploy for attention like this, but apparently not. 

Once more she was addressed by the bard, Kallophon, and she returned her gaze from Mikhail to him. A small smile grazed her lips, and she spoke in an even tone. "We're well enough, Mister Kallophon, to know that this introduction is meant to captivate us. So before we fall into a charade, let us be open with one another, shall we?" Anya's smile changed from tight to one of genuine warmth. "What can I do for you and your companions?" -d-
Lawrence
Kallophon Saz__a__l
Castle Grunewald, Vallen, Taemar

Kallophon looked back at the two Wrencrest girls, an eyebrow raised. "I can't speak for my little entourage here, but I'll be plain about my business." He looked at Anyanka with a humble smile. "I'm looking for a patron, and I can't think of anyone here who's more desirable for patronage than you, Your Majesty. All I need is clean water, unspoiled food, four walls with one door for me and none for the rats—all the great luxuries—and in return, my skills are at your command. A year in Ostrava showed me that your people seem to appreciate my people's artistic styles. That's to say, even if you thought that my tune last night was a forgettable experience, I'm sure I can appeal to the tastes of many of your courtiers.

"If you won't have me in a court, just a place on a cart until we get to Ostrava or Zahrada will do me fine. I do wish to see Astoria again, and my friends therein."

Ivagneth Wrencrest
Castle Grunewald, Vallen, Taemar

Ivagneth straightened her posture, trying to keep her gaze upon Anyanka cool and respectful. In the dizziness of coming over, it had slipped from her mind that this was an actual *Queen* They were accosting. Now that she and Feineth had said their piece, the question of why they maintained a quiet, awkward presence seemed to hang quite blatantly in the air. She quietly cursed the Terresolian for drawing attention to it, but dared not let any disgruntlement dust her cheeks. Gods knew a Wrencrest blush was one that showed.

Trying to push aside her anxiety, she focused on Queen Anyanka. Surely she was the one who had the most to worry about in terms of appearance? As Ivagneth took in this first full sight of her, she felt that the Queen had little work to do in that sense. Even with her bandaging and the hint of wornness in her eyes, she seemed so effortlessly elegant. An aura of exotic mystique for which Ivagneth yearned seemed to hang around the colourful, statuesque face like a halo. Ivagneth had some distaste for any Southern ruler, but something about this Anyanka Durkhan made Ivagneth wish that she *Was* The woman, ruling over a balmy kingdom full of magic and foreign wonders. Father's controversial fascinations were beginning to make more sense.

She noticed the whites of two eyes studying her. Her gaze trailed over to meet Mikhail's look, and she let it hang like so for a long moment. She thought herself awfully bold; then again, she and Feineth had already made a fairly good rapport with Sir Heath. This was it for them. This was the turning point of their aristocratic lives.

But even as she let her eyes slip to examine the contour of his face, she felt nervous thoughts throbbing in her head. How did her face look in the light from this angle? Did she look sickly to him? Too pale? What did he think of her dress?

Whatever had brought her to meet his gaze shattered inside. She found herself snapping her attention back to Anyanka with a suddenness that she prayed the Queen would not notice. Feineth made some strange, barely-audible sound between a titter and a sigh.

Ser Wendel Sommerling van Spenglersbek
Outside the Dark Crimson Rose Lodge of Sorceresses, in the lonely hinterlands of Central Taemar

Wendel was sitting by the fire, staring into the flames. Occasionally, he'd look away when his eyes became unbearably dry, gazing up into the night sky. His face was long, pale, and absent.

The knight's mighty spear was laid out beside him. His hands hung limp in his lap.
Kathleen
Viola Godwin
Somewhere in the Taemar bogs.

The night was cold and damp but Viola could not keep herself near fire the paladins had built before going off to hunt. With everything that had happened she had to keep herself busy. She had to silence the screams she had been forced to endure over the night.

Among the murk and dirt of the swamp around the camp she kneeled over the body of a witch and scribbled in a notebook of the encounter - noting each bloody thing that had happened and what she discovered as she rooted around the cabin and the bodies of those left over. 

When Viola was satisfied with what she had written she went back to firepit. It was still in the pitch black of night and the fire left over was dying down to a small flame surrounded by burning embers - the paladins though were no where to be seen. None but a young man she had seen in the thick of the fight earlier sat at the makeshift camp, staring absently into the flame.

Where were the islanders? So much for their protection.

"I don't imagine the paladins have half a mind of coming back, lad," Viola called over to the man. She wondered if this was the first time he had fought."Better to get going and be back at the castle for sunrise."

She felt as though she were back in Azarya, talking to a student who had been pushed to their power for the first time. Gentle, as though he were a deer and would run off with a sudden move.
Lawrence
Wendel
Somewhere in the bogs of Taemar

After Viola finished speaking, Wendel looked up to meet her eyes. There was a distinct hollowness in his expression. He looked around himself for a moment, then made a grab for his spear. His hand fumbled however, thought the shaft should have been quite easy for him to grasp. Perhaps his eyes were half-blind from staring into the open flames.

He seized the weapon, and slowly rose to his feet with a weary sigh. "Hog's breath ..." He said, shivering as he drew up to full height. He placed his helmet squarely on his head, then stared at her for a moment. "Where?" He asked softly.
Kathleen
Viola Godwin
The bogs of Taemar

Viola gave him time to collect himself, staring at her feet instead of the man in fear of him seeing her pitied glances. She'd known students to lash out at professors for such glances.

When he spoke she glanced back up and fumbled through her pockets for her compass, happy to find that it still worked regardless of the water that had gotten onto it,"Uhhh, that way." She said, pointing to the direction they came and turning to follow.
Lawrence
Wendel
The bogs

Wendel stared off in the indicated direction for a moment, merely blinking. He looked around. "Where are the others?"
Kathleen
Viola Godwin
Bogs bogs bogs

Viola stopped for a moment to look back at Wendel as he spoke,"I think they went after that shifter girl." She said and continued on walking.
Lawrence
Wendel
Na portaigh

"The shifter?"

He flinched suddenly, and turned his head to stare out into the dark. Swearing under his breath, he set off after her at an urgent plod away from the cabin. "Great Hog, guide me away from this place," He whispered harshly, shaking his head.
Kathleen
Viola Godwin
Na portaigh í Taemar 

"Yes." She confirmed, feeling her spirit shrink at the thought of the long trek back to the castle. 

"I don't think I'm any hog." She joked, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Lawrence
Wendel
Na portaigh **I d**Taemár 🙃 

Wendel didn't seem to catch the joke. He kept on walking for a moment, then slowed, and looked aside to her. "Wait. Are you from up north? From the Drygrass Steppes?"
Kathleen
Viola Godwin
Feeling personally victimised by Tom Tildrum in the bogs of taemar.

Viola very purposefully did not slow down, letting the dark conceal her more feminine features."A few miles away, yes. I take it you're from near there?"
Katherine
**
Anyanka Durkhan and The Astorian Party
Castle Grunewald, Vallen, Taemar **

It was a simple enough request, and she was glad to know when directed to speak plainly he obliged. If he wanted a place in Astoria, she wasn't bothered by that. Personally asking it of a Queen was ballsy enough, and she gave a small nod, her gaze shifting to the Wrencrest girl who watched her with something between awe and discomfort. Was she frightened, or intrigued? And more importantly; what had caught her eye - the wound or her features. Probably the latter, based on the look she'd seen her give her son as well. 

"You're welcome to travel to Astoria with us. You can try and win a position in court on the journey home." There was a beat and she gave a half smirk. "And alternatively, if we find your company trying on the way back, I'll politely arrange transport to a city that would take kindly to another musician. I don't intend to make a stop in Ostrava, but the Prince has a newfound interest in the place and travels often, should you prefer to make that your home instead of Zahrada he could probably point you in the right direction of a host."

-
Mikhail returned his attention to his mother at mention of his name, and gave a small nod. "The Capell's would be honored, should you find yourself feeling out of place amongst our court." He agreed, and Anya gave a half nod. "We're leaving by dawn, however. So whatever preparations you need to manage, you've got a little time to tie up lose ends before you meet us at the gates at sunrise." Her attention once more moved to the Wrencrest girl. 

"And whatever business you have with the Prince, I suggest you make your impression lasting." Anya added, and Mikhail immediately tensed. There was a furious blush that threatened, and one that he was forever grateful took in his mothers Amorothian favor and colored the back of his neck before his cheeks. 

_"I need a drink."_ He murmured, deciding to use the comment as an excuse to break formality. Looking to the girl, he held out his arm and cleared his throat. "Accompany me, Lady Wrencrest." It wasn't said with a question, as he fully expected her to want an out from underneath the eyes of the Astorian and South Feyshorian Queen. -d-
Lawrence
Wendel
Bogs of Taemar

Wendel nodded. "Oh. Sorry? Oh yes, I'm from the Steppes. Tintown, to be exact. It's in the lower part. My father's the sheriff. Well ... Yes, my father."


Kallophon Saz__a__l
Castle Grunewald, Vallen, Taemar

Kallophon was taken aback by the Queen's response. After all he'd endured the past two days, her openness was very welcome. *Openness, not acceptance,* He reminded himself; he would still have to prove his worth. But the journey would surely provide him ample opportunity to play and otherwise entertain, depending on the Queen's wishes. He felt that there was an adventure afoot, and it made him smile like a giddy young boy.

'Capells', he heard the Crown Prince say. *Capell? As in Milena Capell?* He wondered if she and the Crown Prince knew each other well. Kallophon hoped that he would see his young friend again some day soon, but he knew that such joys would likely be out of reach for the time being; the necessities had to be taken care of first.

He could only half-stifle his broad grin of amusement when the Queen called Ivagneth out for the tension she was creating. This was going to be an amusing court, should he be lucky enough to join it. He saw Ivagneth off with a wink, then turned his attention back to the Queen. "I wasn't expecting you to be so receptive, Your Majesty. Thank you, really. I'll be there tomorrow morning, as directed. By Saris, I hope you have a good evening." He gave her a bow, then turned to depart, lyre held close to his side.

Normally, Kallophon would have pressed much further into the warm, tipsy haze of the night with whatever company he could find, but on this day he just wanted to get some rest for the next. Though happy, he still bore the weight of pain and many a brush with peril. Stepping into the petty room set aside for him, he laid his lyre down gently on the end of the bed, and prepared to change into his chemise ....

Ivagneth Wrencrest
Castle Grunewald, Vallen, Taemar

Ivagneth felt her heart leap up her throat when the Queen addressed her directly. There was nothing merciful about the woman's remark either. Ivagneth just wanted to evaporate and drift away from the situation altogether, or to be stuck in her room in Wrencrest, staring at the overcast outside and bored almost to tears as she read the same book for the twelfth time in a week. *Anything* But this.

The Prince murmured something with a hint of exasperation, and she found herself leaning closer to hear. Suddenly, he was looking at her with those striking eyes of his. With no 'adult conversation' standing between them now, she found herself leaning back a little by reflex, but tried to mask it as her straightening her back to give him as level an eye as she could. 

She gazed upon the arm he proffered to her. There was a back-and-forth to this that she wasn't entirely familiar with; she relied on her intuition, and linked her arm with his as he spoke to her. The questionless tone of his words might have rubbed her the wrong way coming from any other boy, but from him, she saw them as a sign of some unspoken understanding between them.

She watched the entertainer take his leave, and swore that she caught him throwing her a conspiratorial wink. She pursed her lips, then looked to Mikhail. "Gladly, Your Highness. Thank you for being so kind to my friend." She didn't mean to, but she broke into a smile. Whether it was out of genuine gratitude or a sense of amusement at her calling the stranger 'friend', she wasn't sure. It was the last thing on her mind.
Katherine
**
Mikhail Durkhan-Maith
Castle Grunewald, Vallen, Taemar**

She took his arm, though there was enough hesitation in the action that he could figure he had made her nervous despite that not being his intention. He'd intended to offer an escape from the eye of his mother, who always seemed to make note of people looking his way before he'd ever begun to think anyone would. It wasn't surprising, when he thought about it; both his parents were well looking people, and he'd seen the way people fell over their feet for both of them. But seeing your face every day made a person immune to it's overall charms. When he looked in the mirror he was well aware of the silver of his gaze and the depth of his eyes, but not necessarily anything that he would have guessed was handsome. 

Milena had called him handsome though, and she wasn't known to be a liar. 

"Of course, his performance yesterday was enough to cause intrigue. I'm sure the journey back home will be interesting." He gave a small smile, glancing to the girl who took his arm as he lead her through the crowd. He had no real destination in mind, just away from the Astorians and the door - he didn't care much for having his back to the entrance of any room, let alone in a strangers keep. 

"Enlighten me, Lady Wrencrest." He started, pausing to summon one of the servers. "Who are you here with?" As he asked the question, he was presented with two goblets filled to the brim with blood wine. He took them both, his brow furrowing at how the overfilled cups sent legs of warmed wine down his fingers as he lifted them from the platter. A droplet ran down the side of his hand, lingering at his wrist before finally falling onto the not-so-clean tiles of the room. -D-