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Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 3750222" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>As Gray and Cold as Stone - Part 4: The Party Begins</strong></p><p></p><p>As they entered the central courtyard of Acastus’ villa, it was clear that he had spared no expense in preparing for the party. Garlands of flowers hung from every wall and curtains of golden silk screened off alcoves, which might be used for more private conversations. Servants stood attentively around the room, carrying trays of filled wineglasses or plates full of exotic fruits and cheeses.</p><p></p><p>In the center of the courtyard was a fountain of white marble, polished to a brilliant shine. Crowning the fountain was a magnificent statue of Illiir himself, one hand outstretched in benediction while the other held aloft the Light of Illiir, a golden orb that glowed visibly beneath the moonlit sky.</p><p></p><p>A few guests mingled around the courtyard in small groups, most wearing the gold-trimmed togas of the Patrician Imperialis. </p><p></p><p>“Judging from the amount of food and drink we saw being brought in earlier, there must be more guests yet to come,” said Ilmarė.</p><p></p><p>Their host, Acastus val’Assante, approached. He was a middle-aged man with curly blonde hair, wearing long golden robes and a large sun ring. </p><p></p><p>”Welcome to my home, honored guests,” he said. </p><p></p><p>Quintus shook his hand. “It’s good to see you again, Acastus.”</p><p></p><p>“I am terribly sorry that I was not available to greet you when you first arrived. So many things to prepare…I do hope you understand.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course,” said Quintus. Ilmarė nodded politely, holding onto Quintus’ arm. </p><p></p><p>“Elandre should be along presently as well.” He turned to a tall, brown haired woman beside him. “May I present General Nicia val’Dellenov, commander of the Legion of the Mighty Oak?” Nicia smiled back at Quintus.</p><p></p><p>Acastus glanced toward the main entrance to the courtyard. “I fear I must beg your pardon once more. More guests are arriving and I must make them welcome. Kindly excuse me.” With that, Acastus was gone. </p><p></p><p>Nicia laughed quietly as Acastus departs. “He certainly seems to be on edge tonight,” she said. “He’s as nervous as a celibate in Savona.”</p><p></p><p>Ilmarė blinked. “Charming,” she said out of the corner of her mouth to Quintus.</p><p></p><p>“I suppose we shall have to finish our introductions ourselves. You are…?”</p><p></p><p>Quintus took a deep breath. “I am Quintus Aurelius Ignatius, signifer of the Legion of the Triumphant Rays of the Invisible Sun,” he smiled. Ilmarė squeezed his arm after a moment. “Oh, yes, this is Ilmarė Galen—“</p><p></p><p>Ilmarė interrupted Quintus. “Ilmarė Galen, Larestri from Entaris. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’m standing in a puddle of Quintus’ drool.”</p><p></p><p>Quintus blinked. “What?”</p><p></p><p>Ilmarė disappeared into the steady stream of dignitaries, lesser church figures, local politicians and other gentry.</p><p></p><p>From the main entrance of the house, the majordomo announced the arrival of a new guest. “Hemin val’Tensen, General of the Legion of Radiant Glory.”</p><p></p><p>The general was a fit, fortyish man with close cropped iron gray hair and a hawkish nose that looked like it had been broken at least once. He had a stern, almost scowling face, but it broke into a wide smile when he saw Acastus. They embraced each other like very old friends. </p><p></p><p>Hemin made his way over to Quintus and Nicia, interrupting their conversation. </p><p></p><p>“What’s the matter?” Kham asked Ilmarė, leaning against one wall. “Your boyfriend not paying enough attention to you?” Despite the fact that he wasn’t wearing his overcoat, he managed to be invisible nonetheless. No one seemed to notice him. </p><p></p><p>“The Vessel of Illiir, Felician val’Mehan, Most Holy Patriarch of the Mother Church of Coryan!” announced the majordomo.</p><p></p><p>The guests and servants nearest the doorway all dropped to one knee. Acastus kneeled and kissed the Patriarch’s ring. Quintus got in line to do the same.</p><p></p><p>The Patriarch himself was an older, white-haired man. His tanned face was weathered by the sun and creased with smile lines. He wore the golden robes of a priest of Illiir. While they were finely made, his robes were somewhat plainer than the robes Acastus wore.</p><p></p><p>Ilmarė rolled her eyes. “Too many humans with titles they don’t deserve,” she nodded towards Quintus. “He’s loving every minute of it.”</p><p></p><p>The newest guest was introduced as “Gerrius val’Borda, General of the Legion of the Watchful Hunter!” A short, barrel-chested man with olive skin and black hair entered. He greeted Acastus with a brief but heartfelt embrace before moving towards the corner where the two generals were in deep conversation.</p><p></p><p>“All you’ve got to do is keep them busy,” said Kham. </p><p></p><p>The majordomo’s voice cut through the din of conversation. “Roderick val’Tensen, Margrave of Moratavia and party!” The other guests murmured as the young nobleman entered the courtyard, clad not in a toga but in the finest of Milandisian fashions. He was perhaps eighteen years of age and accompanied by a quarter of other similarly dressed young men. </p><p></p><p>Roderick bowed politely to Acastus as he entered. A knowing glance passed between them. As Roderick and his party arrived, Elandre quietly slipped out of the courtyard and headed back towards her chambers.</p><p></p><p>Quintus meandered his way back to the generals, a goblet of wine in his hand. He was talking excitedly with the female general.</p><p></p><p>Kham nudged Ilmarė in the ribs. “You remember how to do that, right? Talk to other people and pretend that you don’t want to throw up?”</p><p></p><p>Ilmarė’s lip curled in irritation. Then she looked over at Roderick. “Yes, I think I do remember how to do that.” Her sneer transformed into a dazzling smile. She adjusted her hair. “You might want to leave now,” she said to Kham. But he was already gone.</p><p></p><p>The elorii shrugged. Then she strode across the room towards her prey.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 3750222, member: 3285"] [b]As Gray and Cold as Stone - Part 4: The Party Begins[/b] As they entered the central courtyard of Acastus’ villa, it was clear that he had spared no expense in preparing for the party. Garlands of flowers hung from every wall and curtains of golden silk screened off alcoves, which might be used for more private conversations. Servants stood attentively around the room, carrying trays of filled wineglasses or plates full of exotic fruits and cheeses. In the center of the courtyard was a fountain of white marble, polished to a brilliant shine. Crowning the fountain was a magnificent statue of Illiir himself, one hand outstretched in benediction while the other held aloft the Light of Illiir, a golden orb that glowed visibly beneath the moonlit sky. A few guests mingled around the courtyard in small groups, most wearing the gold-trimmed togas of the Patrician Imperialis. “Judging from the amount of food and drink we saw being brought in earlier, there must be more guests yet to come,” said Ilmarė. Their host, Acastus val’Assante, approached. He was a middle-aged man with curly blonde hair, wearing long golden robes and a large sun ring. ”Welcome to my home, honored guests,” he said. Quintus shook his hand. “It’s good to see you again, Acastus.” “I am terribly sorry that I was not available to greet you when you first arrived. So many things to prepare…I do hope you understand.” “Of course,” said Quintus. Ilmarė nodded politely, holding onto Quintus’ arm. “Elandre should be along presently as well.” He turned to a tall, brown haired woman beside him. “May I present General Nicia val’Dellenov, commander of the Legion of the Mighty Oak?” Nicia smiled back at Quintus. Acastus glanced toward the main entrance to the courtyard. “I fear I must beg your pardon once more. More guests are arriving and I must make them welcome. Kindly excuse me.” With that, Acastus was gone. Nicia laughed quietly as Acastus departs. “He certainly seems to be on edge tonight,” she said. “He’s as nervous as a celibate in Savona.” Ilmarė blinked. “Charming,” she said out of the corner of her mouth to Quintus. “I suppose we shall have to finish our introductions ourselves. You are…?” Quintus took a deep breath. “I am Quintus Aurelius Ignatius, signifer of the Legion of the Triumphant Rays of the Invisible Sun,” he smiled. Ilmarė squeezed his arm after a moment. “Oh, yes, this is Ilmarė Galen—“ Ilmarė interrupted Quintus. “Ilmarė Galen, Larestri from Entaris. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’m standing in a puddle of Quintus’ drool.” Quintus blinked. “What?” Ilmarė disappeared into the steady stream of dignitaries, lesser church figures, local politicians and other gentry. From the main entrance of the house, the majordomo announced the arrival of a new guest. “Hemin val’Tensen, General of the Legion of Radiant Glory.” The general was a fit, fortyish man with close cropped iron gray hair and a hawkish nose that looked like it had been broken at least once. He had a stern, almost scowling face, but it broke into a wide smile when he saw Acastus. They embraced each other like very old friends. Hemin made his way over to Quintus and Nicia, interrupting their conversation. “What’s the matter?” Kham asked Ilmarė, leaning against one wall. “Your boyfriend not paying enough attention to you?” Despite the fact that he wasn’t wearing his overcoat, he managed to be invisible nonetheless. No one seemed to notice him. “The Vessel of Illiir, Felician val’Mehan, Most Holy Patriarch of the Mother Church of Coryan!” announced the majordomo. The guests and servants nearest the doorway all dropped to one knee. Acastus kneeled and kissed the Patriarch’s ring. Quintus got in line to do the same. The Patriarch himself was an older, white-haired man. His tanned face was weathered by the sun and creased with smile lines. He wore the golden robes of a priest of Illiir. While they were finely made, his robes were somewhat plainer than the robes Acastus wore. Ilmarė rolled her eyes. “Too many humans with titles they don’t deserve,” she nodded towards Quintus. “He’s loving every minute of it.” The newest guest was introduced as “Gerrius val’Borda, General of the Legion of the Watchful Hunter!” A short, barrel-chested man with olive skin and black hair entered. He greeted Acastus with a brief but heartfelt embrace before moving towards the corner where the two generals were in deep conversation. “All you’ve got to do is keep them busy,” said Kham. The majordomo’s voice cut through the din of conversation. “Roderick val’Tensen, Margrave of Moratavia and party!” The other guests murmured as the young nobleman entered the courtyard, clad not in a toga but in the finest of Milandisian fashions. He was perhaps eighteen years of age and accompanied by a quarter of other similarly dressed young men. Roderick bowed politely to Acastus as he entered. A knowing glance passed between them. As Roderick and his party arrived, Elandre quietly slipped out of the courtyard and headed back towards her chambers. Quintus meandered his way back to the generals, a goblet of wine in his hand. He was talking excitedly with the female general. Kham nudged Ilmarė in the ribs. “You remember how to do that, right? Talk to other people and pretend that you don’t want to throw up?” Ilmarė’s lip curled in irritation. Then she looked over at Roderick. “Yes, I think I do remember how to do that.” Her sneer transformed into a dazzling smile. She adjusted her hair. “You might want to leave now,” she said to Kham. But he was already gone. The elorii shrugged. Then she strode across the room towards her prey. [/QUOTE]
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