Kevin
Danico Felrantres
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

The alchemist pulls the plate back to his front as the Wisdom begins into her cut of hog, taking the cutlery and beginning to carve into the far more appetizing dinner. "Interesting" He replies to the mention of her rejection of the principles taught by the many faiths against the use of magic. The practical, forward thinking mindset was certainly a fresh take. Most he had worked with in recent times were either clueless to the practicality of magic or simply shunned it out of fear they would be targeted by those that tried to wipe its existence from the present day. "But I certainly agree. Ignoring the tools at your disposal, especially when based purely on morals and ideals, is a fool's errand."

The alchemist shoves a fork-full of pork into his mouth, clearly enjoying the taste over the barely edible sponge he consumed earlier. After savoring the bite of food for a moment, he clears his throat to talk again. "Though I agree, there are often mundane solutions to many tasks and many tasks require mundane solutions. However, magic is a powerful tool that cannot be denied. For instance-" Danico takes hold of the jade necklace around his neck, holding the jewel up for the other to see in a decent light. The jade embedded in the necklace sparkles a peculiar, vibrant purple hue under certain angles- similar to the way a bent mirror will reflect direct light only when viewing it from a certain angle. "This necklace causes the Fern Hoppers found in the swamplands of The Melsoh to become passive towards me." He shows the gem in specific angles towards the other for a few seconds longer before releasing it again. The Gem also had a few other hidden effects, though he wouldn't so eagerly tell of them. "No preparation, no forethought beside putting it on. It works on its own." He rubs the gem momentarily, clearly thinking about it fondly as he talks. "Sure, you could just actively look for ferns and avoid them." He continues returning his attention to the girl. "But this makes it so much easier." 

Danico shovels another bite of pork into his mouth, savoring it again as if he hadn't tasted anything this good in years. "Say, if you ever find yourself with an inclination to learn the magical arts, I'd be happy to educate." A smile returns to his lips once more, interested in all she has to say.
Kendall
Lord Eric Stafford
Vallen, Taemar

With his Queen once again awake and the party returning to a more normal state. 

_As normal as Gregor gets, I suppose._ He remarked in his head. 

Eric hadn't forgotten his frustrations despite almost being head(less?) butted by a undead hog. If anything, they multiplied. His gaze passed to his wife, who made eye contact for a moment. They'd placed her next to Zane, something he knew she wouldn't love. 

_Who the fuck made these arrangements?_ 

King Gregor was as distracted as he always was, so Eric crossed the room and appeared at Zane and Angelica's table. 

"Having fun, 'Gelica?" Eric asked, knowing the answer. After her response, he'd look down at Zane and place a hand on the back of his seat. 

"We should trade seats." Eric said to Zane in a sort of asking-but-not-really tone, but holding a pleasant smile.
Joan
Zane Harmattan
Castle Grunewald, Taemar

Zane let out a small sigh as Eric walked over, masking it as a yawn, barely paying attention to the man as he spoke to Angelica. When he crossed the table and placed an arm on Zane's chair, his brow rose a bit, idly glancing at him.

When the man propositioned him for his seat, Zane had to bite back on a snort. 

Sit at a table with people he doesn't know, or annoy Angelica for a few hours? Easiest choice of his life.

"Talk to your wife all you want, but do me a favor, Eric." Zane grabbed a glass of wine from the table and leant back, taking a small sip as he glanced at the man. "Don't try to demand things from me."
Robert
King Gregor Grunewald
Castle Gruneald, Taemar

The long tapers of the candles had melted down to half their original size, sealing base onto the table in dripped wax. Kenmath weaved through the tables with a decanter of blood wine, refilling all of the goblets to the brim. Per Gregor's instructions, he was not to let one sober person leave the dining hall. 

King Gregor was admiring the neckline of Duchess Anyanka's gown when a peculiar boy with a boar's mask caught his attention. He reached up and pulled the mask back down over the boy's face and admired it for a second.

"I don't fuck boys, if that's what you're hoping for," Gregor wheezed with laughter, pounding his fist hard on the table. Tears streamed down his ruddy cheeks and he took a moment to collect himself. Though the boy's expression was concealed behind the mask, his posture indicated that he was, at the very least, uncomfortable. "Ah, no, I kid. What is it? Do you wish to sample some of this boar meat? I'll slice your fingers off, if that's the case," He said, tapping the mask's snout with his greasy dagger.
Kendall
Lord Eric Stafford
Vallen, Taemar

"I'm sorry you took it like that, _Advisor_ Harmattan." Lord Stafford said with a continued pleasant smile. 

_I see why Angelica hates him now._

A flash of everything he would have liked to do to Zane in that moment flashed through his mind. His muscles tensed and his left hand twitched for a moment. 

But, as King Randall had taught him, he breathed and looked back across to Angelica. 

"I will see you later, love. Enjoy dinner." He said, his eyes meeting hers for a moment. 

With that interaction over, he about-faced and made the walk back to his seat. 

_After everything I've done for Feyshore, that motherfucker denies me the right to sit next to my wife._ Eric thought, fixating on the pork in front of him, beginning to carve sections up. His left hand trembling slightly with rage.
John
**Kirk Pinewood
Vallen, Taemar**

Kirk quietly sighed with relief as Eric walked away from the table, grateful that he hadn't been asked to make the trade. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but he didn't want to be the one to draw negative attention from King Gregor for upsetting the seating chart.
Lawrence
Kallophon
Castle Grunewald, Taemar

Uncomfortable Kallophon most certainly was. The way the king roughly handled the minstrel's mask, the crude joke and raucous laughter that followed; it was almost enough to make Kallophon shiver. Gregor's particular *Arrangement* Definitely was the style of male art that he found most pleasing to the eye; Prince Auburn, on the other hand, was quite a different story now that he could see the young man more closely. Wilhemina as well. What nymph had this boor married whose overpowering beauty had managed to save those two from their father's ruinous seed? Kallophon shook his head a little, casting off such unbecoming thoughts. He couldn't let any sign of disrespect slip through.

He nervously paused as Gregor tapped his 'snout'. Kallophon swallowed. He recalled a favourite stage technique and bent his knees slightly, focusing the anxiety in his body down into his legs. Play along and speak plainly, he told himself. "Your Majesty, could you put a bit of hush on the guests for just a minute or two? You see, I've come a long way from Terresol, and I'd like to have a moment to *Present* Myself, if you understand." Too soft. He had to play the man harder. "Ease some of these fops off their tenterhooks, as it were." Wait, was that too pretentious?

Kallophon's mind raced and raced, trying to devise a forceful punch to this request. An idea of a sort he'd long tried to bury in the black soil of his mind wormed its way into the open, leering at him. It wasn't a clever manoeuvre so much as a tactical submission to one of his profession's most egregious and perilous stereotypes. Going through it with it felt like breaking an unspoken oath, but Kallophon's immediate reaction to the thought - for he had no time to contemplate - was that it was his only choice. He was plainly asking for what he wanted for nought but selfish desire; to get it, Kallophon needed to promise Gregor what he desired.

"And you know, Your Majesty," Kallophon added, leaning in towards Gregor, in towards the danger, "Sweet music has been known to loosen the hearts of even the most austere woman. Queens, Your Majesty? The right tune can totally undo their pretences, leaving you with nothing but a fair woman whose thoughts lie towards love, and who should be quite susceptible to offers of marriage, or even more ... 'base' proposals. Whether from the musician himself - who in this case has no such interest - or, well, any fortunate man who approaches them."

You're everything they say you are, Kallophon hissed at himself. Not only was he encouraging the slavering cad, but he may have been about to start a war. This is how wars started, wasn't it? It was in all the plays.
Robert
King Gregor Grunewald
Castle Grunewald, Taemar

King Gregor scratched his bearded chin at the musician's proposition. The royals at the dinner were absolute, uptight bores and he did not see any reason *Not* To interrupt their drawl for some more entertainment. If the musicain failed to entertain to their hearts' content, then Gregor would merely string him up and redo the Hog Dangle the proper way. He would be happy, either way. 

"Of course, my boy!" Gregor boomed, standing up abruptly and causing his chair to clatter back onto the floor. He swiped his plate off the table and grabbed the musician from under his armpits, heaving him up onto the table with no effort at all. "*Silence, everyone!*" Gregor yelled, causing the crowd to immediately hush and earning more than his fair share of annoyed stares. "This boy wants to impress you with his magnificent musical abilities. Quite the attention whore, don't you think? Aha— well, lets hope he's as good as he thinks he is," Gregor said. He picked his chair back up and sat his heavy body down, looking up expectantly at the boy.
Katherine
Angelica Stafford
Kid table #2

The exchange between Eric and Zane seemed to happen faster than she could properly react to it, she was more than a little uncomfortable, and with every passing moment she was starting to think that maybe -just maybe- Anya had been right for once. The whole evening seemed like a shit show, and she looked to Ollie with a sympathetic smile. "Got anything stronger than this shit wine?"


Anyanka Durkhan
Still here

Anya had only barely seen the end of the interaction between her representatives, and she didn't like the way Eric tensed before leaving. Zane was probably antagonizing Angelica, which meant either she was fighting back or Eric had tried to play hero and didn't manage it. Either way, she wanted to swat them all in the back of the head for acting like children when her own child was actually behaving. He'd taken up a conversation with Prince Auburn, though she had no idea what the two might have in common. Gregor stood up shortly after, demeaning silence in the room for a performer. Anya inhaled deeply, then shifted forward in her seat, pressing an elbow to the table to prop her chin upon her wrist as her eyes moved to the bard.