Charles
Belladonna of Taemar
About to get new ✨*Traumas*✨, the lodge cabin.

The sorceress was surprised she had been able to open her eyes, that brutal use of power could have been deadly for her body and soul.

At first, her eyelids felt so heavy. Everything was cloudy and only a slight ringing in her ears could be heard. Her forehead felt wet with something.

Slowly, her senses came back to her. She was on the floor, with her back against a wall. There were people around her, figures. She tried to move but her body was too heavy.

She coughed a bit of blood, the effort of the spells had done some internal damage. Muffled sounds and voices reached her ears, accompanied by the persistent ringing.

She felt something cold over her wrists, but was still not able to move to look at what it was.

A figure moved towards her. Were those feet? The rude movement that followed made her whole body ache like a million needles were being shot into her. Muffled voices turned into words.
Lawrence
Lord Bennard Wrencrest
Castle Grunewald great hall, Vallen

Bennard reclined in his chair, his hands folded in his lap. "So," He said, looking at Anna, "When's this wedding going to begin? How's this all going to unfold?"
Elise
The Ice Lord Marshall Carter 
The Stairways, Castle Grunewald, Vallen 

Marshall and his men moved with purpose. They climbed the oddly placed and narrow serpentine staircases, eyeing the strange architecture that adorned the walls and roofs. Everything seemed *Off* About the place. Marshall had of course passed through Taemar a number of times with his movements around the continent, but had never fully immersed himself in the Taemish culture. It was a curious land, full of mystical and queer things, as well as a miserable swampy shithole that seemed to stretch across the entire Kingdom. Their God was that of a hog. They worshipped the animal so devoutly they apparently fed their deceased to it, so their essence may be preserved in the hog and their remains are passed on to the land so it may flourish. Taemar's people were also strange and hostile to outsiders. This wasn't something unfamiliar to Marshall, as his own people were quite similar in that sense, but the Taemish had a *Way* About them. They would just stare at you with deadpan gazes of utter contempt, despite never having met them before. There was an underlying tension within all of them, Marshall felt. Like the low growl at the belly of the beast... Or the hog. Marshall had not been in the Kingdom for more than two days, yet he knew already he was not going to enjoy his stay there. 

The Ice Lord and company went round a bend in the corridors, and he bumped in to a young lady with an entourage of her own. Marshall caught her by the wrist with his gloved hand so she did not stumble, he then released her gently. He quickly deduced they were noble ladies, as the knight accompanying them had his hand on the pommel of his steel, ready to spring in to action. Until he realised who he was.

"Mind your steps, my ladies. These floors are not well-furnished. Any nook or cranny in them are like to make you fall and snap your neck," He spoke, gruesomely. 

"Not sure if the masons can be blamed for that one, my Lord Ruler. The Wrencrests were never the most graceful." Lord Angelo Torck smiled, going to embrace them both. "What say you, cousins? Even more dreary than back home?" He laughed. 

Marshall looked at the sigil encrusted on the knight's breastplate, two wrens perched atop the branches of a chevron, facing one another and singing. "Well," Marshall breathed, "This is most opportune. If I'm to hear of what has transpired in the council thus far, who better to tell me than my own countrymen. Where are the rest of your family?" He asked the girls.