Douglas
Provincial Brandon Welles
Meros Dining Room, Erba.

Brandon's internal panic was growing the more he drank, but he simply couldn't stop himself. He was a funk drunk though, and most of Bradai's men were in raptures about the culture shock Bran received when returning to his native land. Only a few members of Brandon's crew were at the table at the time, and after awhile he focused on them. They were used to his jokes, and it was a distraction from watching his father sulk at the end of the table. 

Leon didn't say a word to anyone as he ate, but he ate well. Every sound of laughter, every story told in that islander dialect made him take another bite. He was determined to have a bad time, so he did. He didn't so much as glance at Brandon, but he could feel his eyes on him every so often. Leon was sulking, but the promise of the deal he'd made with the Dimitri was enough to get him through the dinner without having an arrow in his head from doing something ridiculous just to get them all out of his house.

When the pirate king stood, Leon looked across the table at him. Just a man, just like him. When he told everyone to thank Leon, Brandon laughed shortly then looked over at him. Leon's face and neck were red again, his lips pursed slightly as he bit his cheek. However there was nothing he could do, he knew that. Leon tapped the table with both hands, ignoring the thanks before he stood up. He left the room shortly after Bradai to retreat to his chambers. 

Brandon leaned back on his chair, bringing both his interlocked fingers to the back of his head before he let out sigh of relief. Both Welles men had made it through dinner, remarkable. He watched as the party began to split off for the night. Rhiander and Robin seemed to be eager to get to the festival, "One night at this festival and you will forget your entire journey. The trade off is you will bedridden length of your journey afterwards in an effort to recover."

Brandon had missed the whole interaction between Thalia and Dimitri. When Thalia said she wanted a bit of air, he nodded with his hands still behind his head. He watched her tuck her hair behind her ear then glance over at him. When she smiled, he winked at her then watched her head off to the balcony. He pulled his hands from the back of his head over his hair to rub his eyes, a light groan escaping once she had vanished from the room. 

He straightened up a second later, "Alright, Lads.." He looked around the table at the mix of his his crew and what remained of Bradai's and House Alder. He smiled, "Shall we?" A thunderous response from his crew indicated that it was festival time.
Erik
Head Advisor Dimitri Novikov
Meros Balcony

The Head Advisor had beaten Thalia to the door, and stood alone on the balcony. He had one arm rested against the stone, a thin line of handkerchief between the sleeve of his navy coat and the exposed stone surface. The Azaryan ran his hand through his well groomed mop dark curls and pushed it to the side. A cigarette hung from the side of his mouth, it's burning ember emitting a gentle ruby glow on his flawless skin. 

"_Well_" He narrowed his eyes and gave a warm smile, "If it isn't the woman that fills our coffers." He stood from his position on the bannister, quickly reaching into his cummerbund for another cigarette, found one, and presented it in gentle offer. "You know the House I serve? Well, it has a _poppy flower_ as it's sigil. That's because of you, darling. Please, smoke with me. I need to know you, Thalia Alder."
George
Elise Hagen
Road to the festival.

Elise lightly hummed as she rode down the dirt trails headed towards the festival. It's been a while since she had been to such a thing so she decided to bring just about everything. For the last few days she has been working hard in the forge and slowly gaining knowledge from her work. It had taken her the last few days, but she had amassed around twenty or so finely made and polished swords. These alone took her nights of hard work. As for what else, since she had neglected to pick the unripe fruits she had plenty of produce for the festival. To her this alone could have made a profit.
Paul
Ser Edmund The Well Knight
Streets of Erba

Edmund walked throughout the streets of Erba with his blue and white surcoat and his armor on. He had been quite enjoying the fine places of ill-refute in the city. Though, with the few coin he had, he was thinking more of making a name for himself during the festival. He understood many had come from all over Marin for the events, and he would not falter the chance of fighting some of the sods for some recognition-or coin.
George
Elise Hagen
Streets of Erba
After a long while of riding Elise had brought her items and paid the dues to get into the festival. Her cart wasn't all that special, though if there were people that had any aged books the crest of her house may be remembered. Though she didn't expect it to be, but had put it on the sides anyways. Even then she had made sure to keep the cart moving at a slow pace to watch for foot traffic.
Erik
Sylas Pen
Streets of Erba

Sylas had just finished passing out the last of his leaflets to passerbys by the time he had come upon Edmund. He looked particularly well to do, or at the very least foreign, which meant he had some modicum of coin on him. 

"You there, Ser!" Sylas called, moving up to the knight and extending a hand. "Are you in need of..." He narrowed his eyes and raised his eyebrows, "_entertainment?_"
Cathleen
Tanyth Carven 
Road to the Festival

Tanyth kicked her horse, urging it forward toward the city of Erba. A festival was in town and she intended to have a little fun... Meet new people, maybe kill one of them if she was lucky.

She did intend on participating however, there were many games... But she was interested in jousting and drinking almost exclusively. Maybe some dueling or brawling with other sellswords.
Paul
Ser Edmund The Well Knight
Streets of Erba

Edmund's eyes shifted quickly to the figure that was moving toward him quickly. He stopped, and turned himself toward him. His right hand, by instinct, had already been moved to his belt by his sword. However, it did not seem he took the man as a threat. The knight was tall; built lean and strong like a taut rope. Though his armor and clothing seemed of lesser quality than most knights. 

He looked at the man silently for a moment, glancing at his outstretched hand, seeming disinterested. Then he said, "What kind, mate?" Nonchalantly.
Douglas
Rhiander and Robin Swillwater
Meros Dining Room

Rhiander loosened his collar, watching as the guards surrounding them suddenly became rowdy. The wine had relaxed him enough to at least offer a few claps. Robin was just as loose, nonchalantly cracking the bones in his neck and shoulders.

As they partook in the festivities, Rhiander made it a point to speak with Brandon. Thalia had had her share of talking with the fellow. He figured it wouldn't hurt to get to know the guy they'd be working closely with.

"You and yer father don't seem ta be, ah, _best friends,_ aye?" Rhiander said. "I know tha feeling."

———————————

Thalia Alder
Meros Balcony

Between the Head Advisor's dapper ensemble and his sweet choice of words, Thalia felt more off guard than she was accustomed to. Cheeks flushed, she could only seem to focus on one thing at a time, having to grab the cigarette between her thumb and forefinger with more concentration than the task deserved.

_Wouldn't've drunk as much wine if I'd known he'd ask me tah share a bloody cigarette with 'im!_

"I 'preciate tha flatt'ry, but it _is_ a family effort," Thalia said, moving to join Dimitri on the edge of the balcony, lighting the cigarette with a swift scratch over the stone railing. "Couldn't do a thing without their support."

Thalia placed the cigarette in her mouth, watching a thin line of smoke wafted up into the evening air. She removed it for a moment, looking over at Dimitri and smiling, her cheeks still a bit rosy.

" _I_ should be tha one 'cited ta finally meet you. Tha Pirate King's right hand, yer so..." Thalia hesitated for a moment, almost letting a word slip that wouldn't have been appropriate. She swallowed and turned her head away. "So, ah... Perfessional. And... Smart! Fer.. A mainlander, I 'spose."

She tried to play down her temptation to fangirl, clearing her throat before placing the cigarette back in her mouth.
George
Elise Hagen 
Streets of Erba 
Elise stopped the cart near the people that seemed to be talking about a type of entertainment. She did wonder where the main part was though since she is quite new to this area. Her parents never brought her here, so she just felt odd being here.
Erik
Sylas Pen
Streets of Erba

Sylas smiled and produced a crumpled leaflet from his overcoat. He flattened it out against his thigh and passed it over. It read:

***For ONE TIME ONLY, SEE THE***
***CINNABAR CARAVAN***
***Produce the HIT PLAY***

***THE BROTHERS REBELLION***

***Town Square of Erba, Midday***


"Everything you'll need to stay entertained, my friend! Drama, comedy, history, breasts, all there for you. Just follow the directions on this here paper, and you, my friend will b—" He paused, "Are you illiterate?"
Cathleen
Tanyth Carven 
Streets of Erba

"Oi, lass, you need a war horse." The jousting instructor demanded, motioning to the massive shire horse Tanyth was trying to register as her jousting companion. The mercenary looked at her black steed, into his dark brown eyes and then back to the instructor. "No, I'll be using him. He's brave, I trust him not to falter." The portly man huffed and shook his head, "Your ass then." He wrote down her name and horse and had a squire take the big beast away to be thoroughly cleaned and shoed. "Go on, git, go drink tourney starts later, festival grounds ain't ready yet. Come to me to get ready, shouldn't need any armor save what ye got on." Tanyth nodded and turned away, heading toward the closest place to get a flagon of ale and drink a bunch of people out of their money.
Erik
Head Advisor Dimitri Novikov

Meros Balcony

"It is no small compliment that our King has chosen you, an Islander woman, to take on this task. Whether or not the Welles prove their competency is of no issue to the Crown. You're the one that everyone is going to be watching. Everyone that..." He took a soft drag on his cigarette, tapping the ashes off the side of the railing, "Matters, anyways." 

He let out a soft chuckle when she mentioned his status as a mainlander. "Make no mistake, Thalia. The Isles are important to the identity of Bradai Maith. He is—" Dimitri gave a sly, toothy grin, but shook it away. "He is complex. But your relevance to the Isles doesn't matter as much as your relevance to the greater goal. There is a revolution happening in every city street, something he caused, something he championed. We are on the side of greatness, but it can snuff out your flame in an instant." He flicked the butt of his cigarette off the balcony, sending the garnet of red light sailing into the darkness. "When you join up with Bradai Maith, you forgo your titles. I stopped being an Azaryan, a Highborn, an Academy Graduate. Those things don't matter anymore. They matter to some, sure, but not to _me._ I am his. You are too, to some extent." 

He reached into his cummerbund and removed a cigarette, before placing the tip near his thumb and forefinger. He gave a light snap, and for a moment a blue spark jumped on the head of the cigarette, igniting it. "We _are_ House Maith. He may seem distant now—" He leaned in closer, "He _always_ is when we get to a new place, but he will provide for you better anyone else on the Mainland or Amoroth. House Maith is absolutely everywhere. It's in the servants and in the streets. In the hearts of revolutionaries and in slaves. In us, as well. We are not highborns or mainlanders, we are House Maith. Forthright with Foresight."
Paul
Ser Edmund The Well Knight
Streets of Erba

Edmund had taken the pamphlet, but he did not try to read it. He barely knew how to read anyway, and seldom needed to. Most things could, and should, just be explained. And he wondered why he even had asked him, seeing that he did not dress like the usual Erban citizan. The knight sighed. 

"How many of the twats you've given this to can?" He said emphatically, "Just tell me where it is."
Erik
Sylas Pen
Streets of Erba

"Great question! A lot of people have seen this piece of paper before handing it back to me." He gestured for the paper back, with unabashed confidence. "I've been thinking of switching to a mostly picture based form of notification. It would serve as a— Oh." He could tell that Edmund was hardly listening, and pointed towards the town square, where the playhouse was being erected. "It won't be up until midday, but it's right next to the jousting tourney, so..." He shrugged, "Do with that information as you will. I don't care, as long as I have my paper back."
Paul
Ser Edmund The Well Knight
Streets of Erba

"Hmph." Edmund said, grinning a bit at the thought of the jousting tourney. After looking down the street toward where he pointed, he held the piece of parchment out towards him. "Thanks mate," He said, his grin getting a bit cheeky as Edmund looked down at him, "I appreciate some information."
George
Elise Hagen
Streets of Erba 
Elise just passed by them since she was being ignored for the time being. She did wonder what this play was about since she hadn't heard about the people of the north.
Douglas
Thalia Alder
Meros Balcony

"Forthright with Foresight..." Thalia murmured, casting a thoughtful side-eye to the bit of magic the Azaryan had used just then. Just when she thought the man couldn't possibly become more interesting, he would find a way to prove her wrong. 

She looked down to watch the ashes fall toward the darkness below, her smile having faded by now as her face seemed serious, solemn.

"His Majesty 'as nevah giv'n me reason tah doubt 'im. I love this life, even without knowin' what my otheh lives might be like," Thalia said, sighing. "Things 'ave been so incredibly _good._ And I know, like ye said, I have the universal natuh of 'Ouse Maith ta thank, for that."

Thalia said, taking a final drag from the cigarette before squishing the butt into the stone railing.

"Sometimes, I actually worry that things are going _too_ well, tah last for long," Thalia said, looking over to Dimitri. She had only ever been _this_ vulnerable with a few people. For some reason, though, in this moment in particular, the dark-haired Azaryan seemed more than trustworthy. Perhaps "Loyal to House Maith's cause" Was the better phrase to use. "Ye know what they say. Pride comes 'fore the fall, and all that. Ever think I've just been lucky, up until this point? I can make the shadiest deals and optimize the working schedules for thah fields. Hell, I can learn the weathuh pat'rns and hire men who aren't afraid to make a dangerous delivery. But at some point, I worry that my luck may run out."

Thalia chuckled, turning her head and resting her elbow on the ledge, perching her chin in her palm.

"Prob'ly not a thing I should admit, yea? Since everyone is watching. I just want tah be excellent. For House Maith, and... And for da'." Thalia said, the wine making her tongue a bit more loose than usual.

Provincial Brandon Welles
The Newberry Festival (Night one), Erba.

Brandon stood from his chair a little slower than usual, but he could walk. Tresten gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, "Too early." Brandon playfully shoved him off then began to walk with the rest of the crew. A maid ran up to him, handed him a black mask with golden horns on either side. He thanked her, held it down by his side naturally as he walked to catch up with the crew. 

Before they left Meros, he glanced over to see his Father disappearing around the corner at the top of the grand staircase. He couldn't help but smirk. It was one of the first times he'd ever seen Leon Welles defeated, and in his own home. Despite the feeling that he had gotten himself in a situation he couldn't quite control, he still knew he won at least round one with Leon. Winning felt good, far better than any vice he'd tried so far.

When Rhiander spoke to him they were still in the house, nearly ready to exit. Rhiander must have caught the glance Brandon gave Leon, Brandon turned to him with a kind smile. His raised his eyebrows slightly then he said he knew the feeling, "Do you?" He continued walking, exiting Meros to go out into the summer air. After a while he added on, "You have my deepest sympathies and eternal admiration, if that is truth. From what I hear of your Father, he was a great man despite a few miscalculations. He seems to have inspired your sister quite a lot."

The air was fresh, the humidity high, yet the smell of grass and a landscape speckled with a million flowers somehow didn't attack your senses, it seduced them. Brandon was quiet for a moment, taking in the sounds of the drums, the men's laughter, his boots over the gravel as they walked down to the banks of the river. 

Brandon's crew already had their masks tied. Brandon had described this festival so clearly, they had high expectations for the women, food, and drinks. House Alder and Bradai's crew could make masks when they got there, or they could have their identity known to all as masks weren't mandatory. It was a long walk, but they'd get there eventually. There was plenty of time for a chat.