Rosa
Ollie
Secondary Seating, The Castle Grunewald

Ollie looked up briefly from the work in his lap, and noticed that Lady Angelica Stafford was looking at him. "No. This bloodwine is supposedly the best in Vallen." The boy ran his fingers along the rim, rubbing the ruddy liquid between his thumb and forefinger. "Either we're to be sober the entire night, or this wine kicks in later on." 

Through the pages in his book, he produced a letter. A time for the meeting, and the demands for Mikhail's presence, were passed across the table. "Take care of that, my lady." He motioned to the Astorian spymaster, preoccupied in bickering with the ambassador's wife. "We really shouldn't involve warriors in the disputes of politics. They were made to fight, not rule." The boy gave a comforting smile, and raised the papers back over his face. His pork sat on his plate, untouched.
Michael
Serafina - Magistrate Wisdom to House Terresol
Castle Grunewald, Vallen 

Serafina watched him describe the necklace around his neck with a smile. The man clearly had a strong connection to it and Alchemy as a field. She cut another bite off of the hog in front of her and chewed it as he continued, nodding her thanks to the Grunewald servant who refilled her cup. 'Though it should probably be my last.' 

The dichromatic crystal was breathtakingly beautiful, even if one considered magic a hoax, you couldn't deny it. The purple teasing the eye at different angles popped up to entice you and then disappeared, playing a childish game of hide and seek with the viewer as one might with a child. She nodded in agreement about the simplicity, but had also thought of an alternative solution that would also give her an idea of the Alchemists capabilities. "Interesting." She mused, glancing back down at the jade hanging around his neck before returning her eyes to his own. "Wouldn't an elixir made of plants that sang of the same vibrations have a similar function?" This was one of the things she had learned during her brief time of study with the Alchemists in the House of Wisdom. Life was full of supposed vibrational energy and much of "Magic" Was just an alteration of such energies to achieve your desires. Serafina had similar thoughts about the gods based on her own experience. "And if so, if it is the vibrations of the crystal that you've simply redirected for a specific purpose, I wouldn't consider that magic, but I'm speaking purely theoretically."

Glancing down at her plate, Serafina found herself surprised by her dismay at the emptiness it reflected back at her. With a sigh, she pushed the plate to the side, indicating she was finished before picking up the goblet of wine to lean back in her chair. Danico's proposal caught her off guard in that very moment and her eyes flashed to his own at the offer, remaining locked as she leaned back and strummed the goblet with her fingers. "A curious proposal, and perhaps one we should reconsider at a later time lest our heads be removed for talking during the bards performance." She chuckled, turning her attention to the bard who had the misfortune of being singled in front of the courts. She sent up a silent prayer to Auryn for the man's soul should he fail to impress and become yet another sacrifice of the feast.
Lawrence
Kallophon
Castle Grunewald, Taemar

Kallophon froze like a dead mouse as Gregor plucked him up and stood him on the table. His face, which he thought to be a pleasant, refined encapsulation of the Terresolian visage, was concealed by that of a boar. His instrument, as magnificent as Kallophon thought it was - nearly the same width as him and over a third of his height, with a turtle shell for a chest - must have seemed very unusual, perhaps even primitive, to those before him. At least he had pretty clothes. And a damn good hand.

"Yes, Your Majesties and other esteemed guests, please forgive my whoring. I'd consider myself a musician looking to advertise, more so than a sashaying strumpet, but many would say there is not much difference. Perhaps they are right; but rather than present my *Favours*, I would present to you one of my favourite *Tunes*. Here it follows."

He gently lowered himself onto crossed legs. He'd performed in some strange settings before, but sitting on a dinner table in front of royals? They'd never believe half of this night back in Yiannopoulos. Having never played in front of such dense foreign nobility before, he felt butterflies swarming in his stomach. By Saris, was that the Pirate King to his right? And Queen Durkhan was not only conscious again, but looking straight at him!

Thankfully, no one could see the full extent of his apprehension through his mask. He took a calming breath, secured his lyre by its arm in his left hand, and took up the plectrum in his other. When he opened his eyes, the ten catgut strings filled his view. He brought his plectrum to gentle contact with a high note, and then drew it across the strings in a ripple of notes. The song wavered, then became crystallised by one clear dyadic note. From there, the tune spilled forth.
Kathleen
Amicia de Blanc
The streets of Vallen, Taemar

Amicia had arrived in Vallen only a day ago and already she was lost. The winding, twisting streets of the capital city felt so alien from the familiar streets of Gorgonys and every time she thought of the place she grew up in a knot would tie and tighten in her stomach. A horrible sensation really. So, she pushed the thoughts down and focused on learning her way around.

Walking, the small girl's fingers fell over a chain of lockets at her neck and she twisted it around a spindly finger. The weeks of travel left the short girl looking a little worse for wear, the travel had not been good for her appetite and her clothes hung looser when she arrived than when she had left. Finally feeling her feet on solid ground should have been a blessing but a night of rough sleep in a stranger's doorway in the cool, damp air of Taemar had left her in a strange mood and the ground no longer felt like a blessing.

Stuck in her thoughts, the young mortician turned a corner and was instantly pushed into by a small gaggle of kids, some almost as tall as herself. She fell onto her side, scraping open the skin of her elbow on the rough cobblestone streets. With a yelp and a glower the children ran off and Amicia got up and found a step to sit on, picking away at the stones that embedded themselves in her skin - wincing each time a new one was poked at.
Maricela
Edward Cyneward
The streets of Vallen, Taemar

From a single glance, one could tell that Edward was rather impoverished. Edward wore a ragged set of wool clothing and a long, but torn beige cloak. Edward's blonde hair was tied back with a scrap of linen. More importantly, he was barefoot and carried a bindle against his shoulder. 

Cyneward had been in the streets of Vallen for a few days by now. Edward was walking down a cobblestone road when he heard the commotion around the corner. As Cyneward turned the corner, not only did he spot Amicia, but the kids had run right past him. Edward made a concerned face and called out to the woman as he approached her, "Hey, are you all right? I'm a . . Doctor. . Uhm apprentice."
Kathleen
Amicia de Blanc
The streets of Vallen, Taemar

From her stoop, Amicia glanced towards the voice calling to her and immediately grew suspicious. Quickly, she stood and took a few cautious steps back. She did not like doctors. A doctor meant illness was nearby and she was *Not* Ill.

Besides, a doctor usually had the money to have holes in their clothes fixed. Amicia covered her elbow with her opposite hand and stared through him with wide eyes.

"I'mmm... Fiiine." She sounded as though talking were a struggle. The girl's voice was gravelly and low and didn't *Quite* Fit her face,"Yooou're not a-" The tip of her tongue sat rested on the top of her mouth as if she was trying to finish the sentence, eventually, she just closed her mouth.
Maricela
Edward Cyneward
The streets of Vallen, Taemar

Edward seemed a little curious at whether she would finish her sentence but decided to not press her about it. The man smiled gently as his grey eyes scanned her. "You don't look fine though... I know it's hard to trust a stranger but I mean no harm. My name is Edward Cyneward." The man offered an outstretched hand towards her as he said, "At the very least let me make a salve for those cuts. My mentor wouldn't let me walk out alive if he found out I didn't treat a woman who'd just been attacked."
Robert
Sir Heath Romanov
Castle Grunewald, Taemar

A bard in a hog mask had been hoisted up onto the table and began to strum his instrument. The music was indeed *Enchanting*, but Heath could not help but pass his gaze over King Gregor, who stared up blankly as the musician played. 

"I suppose he expected something a bit more raucous," Heath murmured to Elle, taking a sip of his wine. Elle nodded, bemused at the man's performance. Any other royal would have been delighted to have such fine entertainment. The Hog King merely sat there bored, chunks of hog meat hanging from his beard. Kenmath, the scrawny old servant, danced on his own in the corner of the room, tears of happiness streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. His hat fell off and his expression quickly changed to one of dread. 

"He plays so elegantly...," Elle said, touching her hand to her pearl choker. 

"Yes, he does," Heath agreed, adding, "A thousand gold pieces says that he'll die two minutes into being strung up." Elle drew her lips into a tight line and nodded slowly, accepting the wager. Elle then turned and regarded the boy on the other side. 

"Mikhail, I am elated that we're seated next to each other. I've missed you. You must promise to visit us up in the North Shore sometime soon. Your cousins ask about you often," She said, patting Mikhail's hand. 

"As do your siblings," Heath added with a smile, leaning forward so that he could see Mikhail past his sister's curls.