Terence
Tiny Vik
Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper

Vik peered down the crossbow at the woman who was accusing him.

"I'm sorry, but who in the world is Prince Nickles?  I'm Tiny Vik!  I'm here for the feast, representing the Archon of Akno in Terresol."  He crossed his arms in a huff and looked to the Visionary standing to his right, shrugging his shoulders in a way that said "This is unbelievable."

"Yo-ho, Critten, look thar, I spies me a leg, when Nickles should have a peg."  An older guard with an eyepatch scratched at an unwashed beard.

The woman, Critten, lowered her crossbow a bit as she peered down at Vik's legs, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.  Vik picked up the edges of his robe to allow her a better view of his two, intact, ankles.

"Aye, he does have both legs."  She almost sounded disappointed he wasn't a criminal, letting out a quiet sigh.

"Last time I checked, Yes."  Vik grumbled.

"Well what do you want, kid?"  Critten snapped.

"I already *Told* You, I'm here for the feast.  I'm here for the Archon of Akno.  I have an invitation."  Vik produced a roll of parchment with the Maith seal from his satchel.

"It *Looks* Authentic."  She looked over to the bearded man.  "It could be a trick.  What should we do?"

"Yar, let them in, they be having the invite."  He said, waving at Critten.

"Fine."  Critten said, handing the invitation back.

Vik bowed, stashed the parchment away, and strolled inside followed by the Visionary who was carrying a small oaken box carved with a floral design.

They only made it a few feet inside before a call was let out across the courtyard in Silvertongue.  Vik braced for the worst before realizing that call was being repeated throughout the castle.  The gates slammed shut behind the pair, large bars being locked into place.  Above them the windows of the Maith Dome were being shut and chained closed.

"Well, looks like we arrived just in time," Vik said, walking towards the main mansion.

"Honestly, 'Prince Nickles?'  What a silly name."  Vik muttered to himself as the pair walked towards the ballroom.

"Coming from 'Tiny Vik,'"  His Visionary pointed out.

"'Tiny Vik,' is a lovely name.  Quite possibly the best name ever!"  He huffed, making a sound that was similar to exhaling sharply out of your nose.

The Visionary said nothing else, probably holding in laughter behind that ironically laughing mask they wore.  They missed their opportunity to say anything, however, as the pair approached the doors, and another set of guards.  These guards were much easier to get by, simply opening the door to the ballroom and making a snarky remark about being late to the couple.

"Finally," Vik began "We finally made it, my friends.  Let's try to lie low for the time being, let the wine flow before making a scene shall we?"

The Pirate King was in the middle of a tirade.

"It seems the air is tenser than we would hope."  Vik couldn't hold in a giggle, trying to cover his mouth as it escaped.
Harvey
Captain Valkrin Farensun 
Maith Mansion 

The Ambereye was just about to return the bow that Lady Peraz had given him, when from across the room, he heard his name called. 

"Forgive me, Lady Dumagne, but I'll return momentarily." He turned from the woman and began to make his way to where the Skhaggerlies were standing, his elite squad behind him. 

Upon approaching the people he was tasked with escorting out, he spoke with a low tone, "King Maith has ordered no steel be drawn but I assure you, if you draw steel in this hall, I'll cave your fucking skulls in with my bare hands. Whether there are children or not." This ball was supposed to be one of peace and unity, but Valkrin had no problem with it becoming one of bloodshed. Turning to his men, he gave his orders in their silent hand signals. 

*Strip them of weapons, take them to the tower. No blood.* 

Valkrin made a line across his palm, a 'never mind' to his last signal, and made a new one. 

*No blood, **Yet**.*

"Galt-Drake, oversee these people to their rooms. And for the love of the Tides Bearer," He shouted, "Let's get the fuck back to dancing." 

The Captain strode back through the crowd to the Dragon of Falsa, extending his hand upon approach. "My apologies, dear, now where were we?"
Erik
**Galt-Drake Geare
Maith Mansion, Southern Isles**

As soon as the Pirate King came out and addressed the court, Galt-Drake immediately took his attention off of his mysterious table companion to listen attentively, whilst also remaining aware of his own surroundings. As soon as Bradaí mentioned Galt-Drake by _name,_ Galt-Drake leapt up from his seat, hands twitching as if ready to kill for his liege. The mention of escorting wards was noted, and when Bradaí was done speaking, Galt-Drake swiftly stepped away from the table, now radically different from the calm and jovial ale-drinking man he'd been just moments ago. Cecilia could easily notice that the young man's movements were far more decisive, quick, and machine-like than he'd initially let on. It was like being addressed directly by King Bradaí flipped a switch in the privateer's brain that kicked him into overdrive. He briefly and fastidiously checked every single weapon, of which there were many, on his person. The privateer then put two fingers in his mouth and let out a quick, sharp whistle that reached as far out as the balcony. Galt-Drake's crewmates rushed to attention, some of them even having to politely halt their ongoing dances to come to the call of their Captain. Galt-Drake looked around for guards, of which he found several. Galt-Drake approached two of them with his crew in tow, delivering to the men a simple and discreet order.

"You, on the left. Shut the gates immediately. The rest of ya, head ta the Sixteen Rings and bring Mallwreck Shkaggerfuck or whatever his damn name is back here," Galt-Drake quietly ordered. The two men nodded and ran off to do their ordered tasks. The first guard made it to the gates, promptly shutting them, barring any conventional access to the main castle. The other guards made their way out towards the Sixteen Rings, heading towards the ship in search of Mallsrek Skagerlly, who was fighting in the grand melee.

Galt-Drake watched as the guards went out to do what they had to do, and once they'd left the Mansion, Galt-Drake was confident that the guards were hopping to it. Galt-Drake turned to look over at Valkrin, who'd gone on an initiative of his own and subsequently called to him to finish up escorting the Skagerllies to their temporary fineries. Galt-Drake nodded, and with his men at his side, he rendezvoused with some of Valkrin's. The merged squads met momentarily before going to their separate tasks, and with barely any words, the orders were exchanged from Valkrin's men to Galt-Drake and his own posse. Galt-Drake nodded curtly in recognition and walked over towards the Skagerllies, flanked by his crewmates. Galt-Drake carried more of an elegant and youthful kind of swagger about the way he walked and presented himself as he approached this situation, as if he were confident in both his abilities and the ability of his crew to enforce King Bradaí's orders. Galt-Drake met the Skagerllies present at the court, his hands casually at his side, with the very occasional and hardly noticeable twitch of a finger being any remote indicator of the privateer's readiness for the absolute worst to occur. If anyone _dared_ to draw steel in King Bradaí's halls, Galt-Drake would be more than happy to address it.

"Good day, me dear men and women of tha Skagerlly family. I'm Galt, and I'm here to escort ya to yer fineries fer the time bein'," Galt-Drake casually delivered, as if nothing was really out of the ordinary. He continued, asking in a rather polite but firm tone, "Would ya kindly follow me lads and I?"
John
Maren Definitely-Not-Skagerlly-Holy-Fuck and a confused Puckgordon Snæch
The Maith Ball

Maren had just been dealing with a plate of cheese and pickled fish on dry crackers when her fingers grew numb unexpectedly. Her head shot up, searching around for someone she recognized. A feeling of dread overtook her as she slowly set the plate down on the floor that she sat on, and stood up carefully with her hands pressed against her chest. She waddled away from the table and held her breath. For the first time since going so south, sweat perforated underneath her shaggy bangs. Something was happening! But what? 

She inched toward the door, but as she did, a slew of guards and men sworn to the king made their way around the tables. She looked around to see them making their way toward the Skagerlly table. Maren's heart stopped for a moment before it picked up the pace altogether. "Pa—Uh...!" She began to say, but she closed her mouth. She had to think long and hard about this. Shaydrin. He wasn't really her father. She was his... Good luck charm. 
-

She cringed, gazing down at her feet adorned in soft satin sandals. Everything she had was given to her by these folk. Well, except for the marble. She reached into her pocket. Would now be a good time to use it? She lifted it out and held it in the palm of her hand. Vik told her to use it if she needed him. She took a deep breath, carrying it gently as she stepped forward.

Only to be ran into by a boy donned in dark clothing. It was accidental, by all accounts, but perhaps everything happened for a reason. "Ah! Fuckin'..." Came a grumpy response lisped through missing front teeth. 

The marble was smacked out of her hand, and it fell. Maren gasped in desperation as she begged it not to shatter. It had been with her all this time! By the Gods' will, it didn't, but it rolled between the feet of the very boy that she ran into. She fell to her knees and took it sharply, putting it in her pocket. She didn't know how to respond, her eyes peeking up to meet a pair of darling blues.
-

Puck was worked up already from everything that had happened and what he was told to do that he didn't know how to react to anything outside that realm. But here he was in a staring contest with a tiny little baby girl. She looked more terrified than kids usually were coming face to face with him. It drew his curiosity. He cocked his head to the side, and he crouched down, his snake still coiled around his collar like a disturbing ornament. "And what in the damn's a matter with you? You stupid or something? Little girl? Hello?" He reached out and flicked her forehead as Maren simply stared into his eyes.

Maren felt this... Profound essence wafting off of Puckgordon. It stank like dead swamp water and blackened charcoal and shadowy elixirs. She felt her bottom lip tremble, her hand reaching up and placing a hand on his chest as she sniffles. "Why... Why are you so sad?" She quivered, big tears sitting at the corners of her eyes like bright pearls.
-

Puck's lips parted as she stared at her. What the fuck. His brow furrowed. "I'm not..." He didn't finish a sentence as the little thing took his collar, her other hand moving from his chest to his face. The snake did nothing to apprehend the sudden movement.

"My heart hurts when I look at you. I feel so sad. My heart hurts. You're like me, huh? Don't have a family. Is that why it hurts?"

The last thing Puckgordon needed was this little shit speaking profound emotional truths at a time like this. Where was this coming from? He took her hand away from his face and shook his head. "I haven't a clue what the fuck you're talking about!" He seethed. "I've never met you in my life!"

Maren's brow furrowed "But... Perhaps we met before that?"
-

*What?* Puck tilted his head as a guard knelt down and whispered in his ear. His eyes darted off. Apprehending Skagerllies? The little fucking snowflakes. He couldn't help a small twitch of a grin. "Yes, ser." He said back, standing. He looked down at the weird little girl that still had her hand in his. "You know the Skagerllies like you know me?" He said lowly.

Maren froze with clenched jaw. She furrowed her brow. "....Yes." She said breathily. "Shaydrin's playing pretend that I'm his daughter but I'm not." She said softly. She kept her head lowered. "But I'm not supposed to tell anyone but now I'm scared because I feel like bad things are happening and my heart hurts and-"

Puck cut her off by squeezing her hand. "Did you have a choice?" He sounded serious. He pulled her off to the side and made it so his shadow covered her as more guards walked through, taking signals from Valkrin. He looked behind him. "Listen, girl. They want to take all the Skagerllies and lock 'em up. They'll be nice to 'em but I guess the Skagerllies hurt a lot of people. I have a hard time thinking you would wanna hurt someone. So tell me who you really are. If you're not a Skagerlly then who are you? Why do they want you here with 'em?"
-

Maren was a tad overwhelmed and the pearly tears that sat on the corner of her icy eyes poured over, her face contorting into one of pain, frustration. She couldn't help but sob as she let go of his hand to cross her arms in a sense of self-comfort. "I'm... I'm just scared! I can't. I just... I want to be okay! I don't want to hurt anyone!" She said through tears. She began to sink to sit on her hind quarters when she was suddenly scooped up by the teen boy, holding her close. 

Puck sighed through his broken teeth, a windy whistle passing through as he looked around, hoping that she didn't cause a scene. A server had begun to peek over, causing Puck to put on a sweet and unassuming face, albeit a tad concerned. "The little Lady lost her mummy. I'll take care of her, carry on." That was enough for the server. Puckgordon was, after all, very close to the Seneschal. Puck turned his attention to the soft-hearted little girl. "You're not in trouble, girl. Just shut up. Hey, do you see my necklace? It's a snake, he's my friend. But I haven't named him..."
‐

Maren looked at him and the iridescent snake that coiled comfortably around Puck's collar. She furrowed her brow. "You haven't named him?" She said softly. Puck began looking around. The instruments were hardly playing a tune now that the dances were being shoved around and interrupted every other minute. He sighed through his teeth again. 

"No, I haven't. Can you think of one?" He said simply. He began making his way toward the orchestra in the corner. 

Maren sniffled as she placed her fingertips on the top of the snake's head. "...You want me to?"

"Well, I'm no good at names. I have a silly name myself. Puckgordon. A long silly name." He said half-mindedly. He was focused on getting the little thing comfortable enough to let him know of her kidnappers' plans. He marched toward the band as he heard a soft hum from Maren as her attention was put toward the thought of long silly names and names that fit snakes well. 
-

"I like your name, Puckgordon. It sounds like a fancy name. You must be a prince. My name is Maren." She said softly. "I think his name is Drystan." She said softly. "Drystan is your snake's name. He told me."

Puck paused for a moment. "I'm not a fucking prince. That would be boring. People call me Puck. It's a lot shorter and people like to make fun of it. But I don't take that shit." He said shortly. He stopped and looked at her as he stood before the orchestra. "Okay. I didn't hear him say anything. Can you talk in his head?"

"It's just a feeling..." Maren was unsure how to explain her intuitive senses. It was heightened by the fact she was a lonely and imaginative child. She looked at Puck and then looked around, finally glancing behind her as she rubbed tears from her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. 
‐

Puck cringed at the fact that this little kid had already decided he was good enough to snuggle up to. He was the youngest in his family, he never had the opportunity to baby younger siblings or cousins. He snapped out of it, looking at the band. "Play... Uh. Something pretty." He told the conductor. "Your prettiest song." 

The conductor was confused for a moment, it didn't seem people necessarily were dancing around, but as he laid his eyes on the girl in Pucks arms, it clicked and he nodded. It was perfect timing, as Fleur had just asked the King to dance as well on the other side of the hall. The song welled into a soft and lovely sound, chimes and high plucked strings making it a happier tune. Plenty of people heard the song and let out an exclaim, standing to truly get this ball a going. 

Puckgordon took her out to the floor that was steadily filling with people, and set her down on her feet. "Uhm..." Puck furrowed his brow. "I don't really know how to dance well. Do you?" He asked, looking quite concerned.
-

Maren held his hands in hers and looked up at him. "I never danced before." She said quietly. "Never ever..." She looked around at the men and women sweeping around the floor in elegant displays. She looked dazed, watching them with admiration and minor confusion. "This is dancing?"

Puck looked at Maren with his own confusion. A young girl who never danced? Even his bitch sisters danced around their rooms from time to time. He didn't feel too much pity for her, though. He simply leaned back and pulled her off her feet, swinging her around. He had a crash course on dancing, before this, but he was hardly good. Silas had called him charmingly terrible. He placed Maren's hand in his and picked her up so they were face to face with his other arm. "Uh, so basically, you just move to the music. Right? That's all dancing is. And you take steps like... One! Two! Three!" He swung her about.
-

Although Puck wasn't even trying to be silly, Maren couldn't help but smile and even softly chuckle at his attempt, the fun feeling of being swung around heartily by the new friend was fun. She held on for dear life as Puck tried to dance. 

"One! Two! Three!" Puck told her, swinging her around and lifting her up and twirling around. He even cracked his own little grin at her amusement. He slowed down and set her back on her feet. 

Maren jumped a little. "Can you show me how to dance, Puck?" She asked. 

"Well, I'm not the one to teach you. I'm bad at it."

"No, you're fun at it!" Maren jumped and looked at him, her smile beginning to fade. Wait, the people she came with... Where were they? She swallowed and looked around again. 
-

Puck saw her energy fading and he stammered. "Uh! Uh... I can try to teach you. M-Maren, look at me." He felt his face upturn in a smile. "Look, Drystan liked dancing with you as well." He knelt down and uncoiled the snake, holding it out to her. Surrounded by dancing lords and ladies, Maren held out her own hand, to let the snake slither onto her arm. Drystan was already the length of her arm and then some, slithering into her shoulder like a unique and lovely scarf. Maren was now focused on remaining still as Drystan seemed to just keep moving back around and over to Puck again. "He's trying to dance with you but he doesn't got any legs." Puck chuckled, taking her hands again. "Look, little girl. It'll be okay. Will you dance with me some more?"

Maren's face fell over a thousand emotions as she looked at the smiling face of Puck. She had been heartbroken so many times. She trusted everyone that ever spoke to her. She looked into Pucks eyes, searching for another motive. Did he really like her? Were they friends? Her lips parted and she looked down. "Yeah. I will. Can you swing me around again?" She said timidly.

Puck sighed through his teeth, pretending to think long and hard about her request. "S'pose."
Elissa
Peraz Dumagne 
The Ball, Maith Mansion

"I believe I was accepting a request for a dance?" Peraz said, placing her hand upon his extended one. 

The Dragon had not been listening entirely to the events in the hall, she was busy wrecking her brain for everything she knew of Captain Valkrin Farensun, but the drink had left her at a disadvantage even though she felt entirely sober now.

"I apologise, Captain. My knowledge of Islander dance is not very wide and I'm rather out of practice. I pray, forgive me should I step on your feet."
Emma
Carac the Butcher
Sixteen Rings, Tonate Proper

Carac was halfway to Katholou when Maith guards broke through the crowd, pushing aside the guests and squires, forming a blockade in front of the gangplank, ensuring no one could leave the grand barge. Carac stopped in his tracks, his mace and shield falling to his side as his attention turned to the newcomers. 

"IN THE NAME OF KING BRADAI MAITH OF THE ISLES, SEIZE THAT MAN!" Yelled one of the men, judging by his uniform and decorations, he was the one in charge here. He stuck out a black-gloved finger, pointing with the fervor and dignity one would assume of a bootlicking toady directly at the arena. 
For a moment, Carac thought it was him they were after. Had Ferdinand done something? Did the new monarch of Feyshore want to make an example of him? He tensed his muscles before he noticed that the accusation was not aimed at him, but at another of his opponents. A mountain of muscle draped in plate and furs, wielding an axe and coated in blood. Carac chuckled, Skaggerly. He had heard of the clan, who in his line of work had not? They had a reputation for brutality and bloodshed, worse even than Caracs. Though It seemed their reputation had finally caught up to them, that was the trouble with legends, the bigger you got, the more people wanted to see you fall.

Carac turned to face the man in question, he didn't know which Skaggerly this was, but it didn't much matter. He was surrounded, armed with a blunted weapon, and tired from the fight. He had no chance of getting out of this, the only question was who would get the glory for capturing him. 
Well, that was no question at all, was it?
Carac raised a fist, a universal gesture that anyone would recognize, "Hold". He aimed his mace at Skaggerly, and then dropped into a fighting stance. This was still a melee, and Skaggerly was his to beat, a duel between warriors. Whose legend would prove greater? The Butcher of Feyshore vs the madman of clan Skaggerly, a fight to remember.
Alice
**Katholou Goldgather,
The Melee, Southern Isles**
Katholou prepared to receive Carac's mighty blow with his big shield, essentially blocking off any other sound or distraction as he got ready for the hard duel to come. Carac was no easy prey and if he was to be defeated then full focus would be required. Suddenly though the enemy warrior stopped in it's tracks, causing Katholou to also snap back to reality in time to see and hear the guards approaching. Upon hearing mention of Bradai's and Skaggerly's name he snapped around, fixing his gaze upon he who had somehow dared to defy the will of the greatest of all kings. The Leader of Clan Drase was literally unable to fathom the thought that someone would be willing to go against such an objectively righteous rule. Nevertheless he kept his cool as this was a delicate situation that required all of the calmness he could muster 

"Godswill! The King's will has spoken!"

He shouted. Immediately the entirety of his retinue rushed into the arena, weapons at the ready, getting behind him as he once again spoke.

"I am sorry Carac but i cannot risk this man suffering severe damage and therefore escaping righteous judgement nor can i afford to give him the chance to gain any advantages, no matter how highly i think of your skills."

He told the mercenary before turning towards his second in command

"Seize him!"

He shouted, pointing at Skaggerly

"Do not let him escape!"

He added before advancing towards the criminal, weapons drawn
Emma
Carac the Butcher
Sixteen Rings, Tonate Proper

Carac grabbed Katholou by the shoulder. His gauntleted hand dug deep, even through armor and plate the force behind those massive hands could be felt, like twin hammers strapped at the end of his arms. It would be clear for anyone to see, this man, this *Thing* Was made for this. One could not even see his eyes behind the slits of his helmet, as if someone had taken great effort to remove any traces of humanity that once lingered in his figure. He was there for one reason, to win this melee, and nothing would change that, not the will of any gods or the demands of any king. 

Carac looked down on Katholou, the twin shadows peering at the smaller man from within his steel helm, and then he spoke. 
His voice was deep and torn, the voice of a man who had only known violence for all his days, the voice of a thousand scars and a thousand deaths, one who had choked on ash and dust and bled in pits of mud and corpses, and it spoke a single word. 
"No"

And without a second glance, Carac stepped forward to meet his opponent in battle. In the palace, the music was swelling, the orchestra playing their most lovely tunes to cover the sounds of violence as the Maith guards searched for the skaggerlys. But on the Sixteen Rings, there would be no orchestra to hide the violence, there would only be the voice of the butcher, and the death that followed.
Alice
**Katholou of Clan Drase, 
Sixteen Rings, The Melee**

For but a second Katholou looked up at Carac in anger. How dared such a puny little weasel of a man who served no purpose other than to kill and gain coin 
Tell him, Katholou Of Clan Drase, First of the Bodyguards, Leader of Bradai's Shield, The White Peacock and Defender of the Capital, "No"? Who was he to defy the will of Bradai?! Godswill put a hand on the hilt of his own sword, waiting for the order to cut down Carac where he stood but Katholou waved him off 

"Form a perimeter around these two."

He told him bluntly before turning towards the mercenary once again, this time with a calmer tone

"The moment i see you getting the back foot or about to kill him i intervene and cut this shit short"

He said bluntly before backing off and joining his companions who in the meantime had created a bit of a wide circle around Skaggerly and Carac as more guards blocked the exits.