Terence
Tiny Vik
The Mizzer Market, Tonate Proper

Vik couldn't help but giggle at the series of rhetorical questions, answering one anyways.

"I like to think I'm not.  Some people think I am.  I guess it's based off of your own opinions, like it should be."  He went back to trying to roll his own coin as Arin pondered flipping his, looking away as he eventually tossed and caught it.  "Very well, let 'fate' decide."

It was heads.  Vik wanted to smile at the odds, even though it was relatively low.

"Alright, let's find them."  He hopped down from the seat and waddled over to Arin, taking his hand in his own smaller digits.

"I need you to focus on these men.  Picture them as clearly as you can, or the destination will get blurry and vague, understand?"  He nodded to himself, before focusing on the spell.

Captain Jax Brightwater
Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper

The trio began to descend to where the Astorian Carriages were parked, Jax could see the boots of the Eclipse rushing to stand at attention.

"Honestly, my dear, I was thankful you asked to leave.  Even though Erik wanted to face me in the Melee, I had a nasty feeling about the party once the skull was brought out."  He knew he was probably overreacting, his old disease rearing it's head to make him paranoid. Yet, on the other hand, he was supposed to be Paranoid, he had to protect the Durkhans, all three of them.
Cedric
Bastien de Lysse
On the grand balcony of Maith mansion

"And what is it that you think I know?" He countered as the next song began. It was slower than the last. "Perhaps the man you see dancing with you isn't the same man that I do." He was fine with teasing her, as he knew she wouldn't actually go so far as to lick his boots simply because he told her. It was pleasant to hear her lighthearted jabs, to talk about meaningless things instead of the weight of reality. "Empty flattery is one thing, but I do love sincere compliments. Not that I ever have the pleasure of hearing any." He glanced and saw eyes still facing him, Islanders and Mainlanders alike watching him. Damn.

What else to talk about? Silence wasn't an option. Dancing in silence would feel too intimate. What that meant, Bastien did not know, nor did he want to think about.

"Are you a betting woman, Lady Kolgrim?" He asked her. He continued before she had the chance to answer, "No, of course you're not. True ladies do not engage in gambling, do they?" The glimmer in his eyes said he knew otherwise. "I'm curious to know how long you'd wager I'll last in this war. Where would you place your money? Years? Months? Or perhaps a few days?" They twirled to the music. "All of this hypothetically speaking, of course."
Tom
Calypso Kolgrim 
On the grand balcony of Maith mansion

The next questions caught her slightly off guard and for a moment her smile faltered when the conversation shifted to the subject of war. She had not thought about it and almost forgot that he was set to take part in the battle. "How long, you ask?" Said her, smiling as vacant eyes moved over the flood of people laughing and dancing all around them. The music was gentle and slow now, giving Calypso time to study her surroundings, not wanting to meet those of her dance partner. "I honestly would know.." Stated her. For a moment the seed of dread settled in her chest and Calypso found herself clenching her jaw as if trying to smash that sentiment under her teeth. " I was lucky enough to have no experience on the matter, my father had just a brief role on the battleground, and I fear that any guess on my part would sound terribly naive." She said those words with her usual amused smile but it didn't reach her eyes. 

The hand resting on Bastian's shoulder flexed ever so slightly without her permission. Pull yourself together girl reprimanded the temere lady to herself, shaking slightly her head letting a deflecting laugh escaped her lips "But, if truly I'd had to play a bet," Started her "I think you would stand your ground perfectly on the battle, no enemy able to get past your blade..." Calypso had never seen a battleground, but she had heard the stories, and for a moment her mind was filled with the sight of blood " Your comrades are going to cheer your name and songs will be written talking of your valorous gestures!" There was something luminous in her smile now, radiant under the lights that illuminate the night. 

With the next step on the dance, calypso pulled herself closer, hooded dark eyes looking up at the young lord "And on the last day, when the war is over and you'll finally be granted to come back home..." Her voice had changed again, mellow and low. She hesitated to let suspense float between the little space that divided them "You are going to trip on a rock and hit your head." And stepped back in a fit of giggles, finally managing to keep at bay the unfamiliar feeling.
Cedric
Bastien de Lysse
On the grand balcony of Maith mansion

Bastien listened, initially surprised at how serious Calypso was taking his playful question. However, something in her eyes, the way her hand had squeezed his shoulder for a second before she laughed and gave an optimistic response. A faint huff of amusement at *How* Optimistic of a response. And then she stepped closer and left very little space between them, and then made the teasing jab and erupted into a fit of ladylike laughter, moving away.

A deep laugh escaped his lips at the prediction of his demise, a genuine smile once again lighting his face. That was one of the things he liked most about talking to Calypso: her replies were both clever and unpredictable. "Oh, I am, am I?" He asked as he pulled her close to him yet again, still laughing. His amused smile faltered slightly, slowly melting as he realized how close she was to him, and how his hand rested on the soft skin of her back. He looked at her, and it dawned on him how pretty her face was in the evening light. The stars seemed to shine brighter in her eyes than they did in the night's sky.
Felicia
```Cyprien de Lysse | Maith Mansion```

The horror. The fool. Cyprien could not believe his ears. What could this upstart possibly know about De Burgh? Was this Baldarian's replacement for Falsa?
The shock and the sudden frustration made him close his eyes and inhale deeply. His brain raced trough Lutur's words, searching for something that might give him an edge. A means to change the strategy.

"Perhaps not," He replied. "Perhaps I too have fallen for my own propaganda. However, it would put the Crown at ease to know that the threat has been dealt with. Sol regards the Exarchy as a key asset for it's agricultural output. You and I may disagree of course... But there is no changing the minds of our betters."

Cyprien took a perverse glee in the delivery of that last line, even if his tone remained unchanged.
He kept talking, unsure of how much of what he was saying were lies, and how much were his own unspoken concerns.

"This is why we need a show of force. Now. When the threat has a name and a face. Not later. And it would be appropriate that the Archon of Falsa takes to field, not his sister in his stead. If anything, it will at least silence the whispers at Sol that question your grace's battlefield inexperience."
Antonio
``LUTUR | MAITH MANSION``

The colour rose in Lutur's cheeks. ' Inexper ...' He shook off the blush that had befallen him, steeling his face. ' I, for one, have heard no such rumours, and I'd advise you as your liege not to countenance the prattlings of idle Solans. Whenever I have visited the City, I have been careful to avoid the blathering mouths in favour of more respectable company.' 

This was a lie, of course; everyone from the Vorelastus to Posoxe knew that the Archon of Falsa associated himself almost ***Exclusively*** With blathering mouths.

That smudge seemed to linger on Lutur's mind, weighing down his brow as he averted his gaze. ' Battlefield inexperience, pah! What do those pomps know about battle? They live the life of luxury out east while the barbarians breathe down our necks every waking moment.'

He sighed before meeting Cyprien's eyes again, his brow knitted tight. ' Do you have any ***Evidence*** That John de Burgh is preparing an aggression against us? His conquests at home are not enough to convince me.'
Felicia
```CYPRIEN DE LYSSE | MAITH MANSION```

Evidence. The young Lord Dumagne asked for evidence. Then said he would refuse the most obvious.

"Yes liege, I have evidence," Some would say too much, Cyprien included. "Our scouts, the House of Koern, have detailed information on his army: number, composition, mustering grounds..."

Cyprien kept an eye on his liege. He could not affort to lose his attention again.

"What we cannot predict is how he will attack once he's crossed the Rustlands. Battles cannot be won trough information alone. Faith and martial prowess are needed to prevail, as you well know."
Antonio
``LUTUR | MAITH MANSION``

' Faith,' Lutur spat back. He shook his head. ' There's faith, and then there's delusion. True faith is to believe in the will of Saris, in the surety and the righteousness of the pathways he lays before us. Tell me, do you have any reason to believe that the barbarian's path leads him south? Has he been sending provisions down towards the Rustlands, scouting out the borderland? You have information, but where's the intent, steward? Where does it all lead? '
Felicia
```Cyprien de Lysse | Maith Mansion```

"What is intent, liege?" Asked De Lysse. "Is it sending soldiers to Swinford, at Koern's doorstep, in order to stage a mustering ground? Is it speaking publically against Terresol, its culture, and the faith of Saris? Is it ambition? The desire to be more than unwashed barbarians? Lust for revenge?
Lord Baldarian surely taught you how to read between the lines. The signs and portents, as my wife always says.
I do not know what motivates De Burgh. All I know is that Northwind's army is amassing south. And that there is only one way they can go."
Antonio
``LUTUR | MAITH MANSION``

' Don't presume, steward,' Lutur hissed. ' Don't presume you know anything about my lord-father, may he find peace in the next life. And don't assume you can read the future after the meagre ramblings of your woman.'

Something was huffing up inside of him, and he took pause to quell it, treating Cyprien to a black look. His rising tone had drawn the looks of those nearby; it did not take Lutur long to notice this once his pique had softened. Suddenly abashed but still seeming to hold onto his arrogance, the archon sat back down on his chair, staring off at no one.

' Is it true what you say? ' he asked, his tone much thinner now, his arms crossed over his bejewelled chest. ' That he musters his troops on your threshold, and that he has made suggestive abuses towards us before his people? On your life, steward? '
Felicia
```Cyprien de Lysse | Maith Mansion```

"I speak no lies," Answered Cyprien. "If you want to, send a spy to Northwind yourself. I assure you he won't even have to make it to Irongate. Nationalistic sentiment is high."

He then remembered something. Something he wasn't sure Lutur would appreciate, but something he had to say nevertheless:

"Besides, when has De Lysse failed the House of Dumagne?"

He knew the eyes of the islanders were on them, but he could not afford to look away. Not now.