Today is of the Cycle Of The Seventh Moon.
Current Season & Month:  , Year: 543 A.R. (ref)

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The Front Entrance Hall [Estate Interior: Ground Floor]


Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 746
Journey starter  
(Syltamul) Entryway doublestairs(GroundFloor)

The Front Entrance Hall

 

The Front Entrance Hall is designed to inspire awe and foment envy in those entering the Syltamul Estate.  The central feature of the entryway is undoubtedly the majestic gilded, double-sided staircase that curves up to the second floor.  The staircase is resplendent in gold with an ornamental Rococo design, handsomely offset by the piano black handrail.  An ornate gold and crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the entryway, catching and refracting any light from all angles in a beautiful display.  The staircase leads to the Upper Floor of the Estate, and is strictly off-limits to any but the Lord and Lady Syltamul. 


TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 746
Journey starter  

The Estate Staff

The Ones Who Keep the Machine Well-Oiled & Running

╺ ✽ ╸ 

Kicking off the part-ay!

The Syltamul Estate was the site of the kind of controlled chaos that one would usually only find in an emergency ward after a “Mass Hex Incident” at Trinsic University.  Still, it was a sight to behold as the household’s staff worked to bring order to and birth into reality, everything that their Lord and Lady wished for that night’s Masquerade Ball.  The estate’s two seneschals or stewards, worked with the groundkeepers, maids, kitchen staff, and most importantly, the guardsmen and waitstaff, to ensure that everything would go off without a hitch.  The pair ran a tight ship, so to speak, and under their experienced, watchful eyes, the Syltamul Estate was transformed and ready to receive its lavishly costumed guests long before the first of many carriages wended up the drive to pass through the Front Gates.

 

 In a word, the party was going to be epic.

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Wynterleaf and Irihi liked
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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 746
Journey starter  
 
 
 
Lord Hadrian Abossad(Elf Noble)

Lord Hadrian Abossad

Attended by courtesan, Lia Fenfina

╺ ✽ ╸ 

Lord of the Greater Noble House of Abossad

 

Hadrian had to marvel at the manner in which the talented staff seemed to completely transform the Syltamul Estate for the various balls, parties, and soirees that Callon and Amarice held, with the various themes and color palettes never seeming to repeat.  The Front Entrance maintained its usual grandeur, although the hallways leading to the East and West Wings were lined with drapes of the deepest, plushest black, the fabric gathered into soft  pleats and cinched loosely at the middle and bottom with cords woven with literal gold thread.  At the center of each perfectly tied, golden knot sat a cushion-cut diamond the size of an egg, the brilliant, multi-faceted surface catching and reflecting the sultry light from the candles flickering in sconces along the walls and set in crystal draped chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.

 

The Lord of House Abossad wore a practiced grin and peered out from behind his feather adorned mask as people began to arrive in a steady trickle, the hallways and grounds already beginning to fill with the low buzz of conversing voices.  His date, the lovely courtesan Lia Fenfina, had been swept by her friends, some of the most sought-after paramours of the court and high society, and now stood with them nearby in what he and his friends liked to call a “gossip gaggle”, judging everyone who came through the door, hiding behind musical giggles and their own elaborate masks.  

Personally Hades was just waiting to accost to meet Travion and this mystery date of his.  He personally couldn’t believe that Trav had actually listened to him and Siofra, for once! It was so out of the ordinary for the young Lord Winterlow, that Hades was prepared to suffer through a mind-numbing stream of polite, conversational tripe with fellow nobles and the lower aristocracy alike, just to make sure he didn’t miss him.  Hopefully Siofra would arrive soon and they could wait for Travion together.

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
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Joined: 11 months ago
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Journey starter  

 

 

 
Lady Siofra Roquesseau

Lady Siofra Roquesseau

Accompanied by Lord Eoin Mossgard

╺ ✽ ╸ 

Lady of the Greater Noble House of Roquesseau 

&

Lord of the Lesser Noble House of Mossgard

 

Siofra strolled through the Front Entrance  arm-in-arm with the young Lord Eoin Mossgard of one the lesser Noble Houses, wearing a prim smile from behind a silver-toned mask inlaid with crystals along the outer edge.  The petite blonde Elf almost appeared doll-like in her bejeweled crystal bodice and heavy skirts, but the Lady of the Greater Noble House of Roquesseau was so used to wearing such heavy layers of fabric and jeweled accessories, that she was actually quite stronger than belied her slender frame.  Almost immediately upon passing the threshold, Siofra spotted Hades.  She gave an excited wave; next her, Eoin sighed.

 

M’lady, shall I get us a refreshment?” asked the lesser Lord Mossgard, without really expecting an answer.  He was just mentally preparing himself for the long tedium of standing with the lovely Lady Siofra and listening politely as she and Lord Abossad verbally dissect their fellow nobles with an almost admirable level of ruthless detachment.  At least it usually only lasted until the young Lord Winterlow intervened, his notorious distaste for gossip and court intrigue generally enough to redirect Siofra and Hadrion toward something else.  At that point the nobles usually turned their attention to getting a ludicrous amount of filthy drunk, which, if he's being honest, was something that Eoin could totally get behind.  

 

The young Lord Mossgard chuckled to himself as he left Siofra in the company of her friend, the petite Elfess giving him a pretty, albeit distracted smile as he kissed her hand and promised to find her shortly.  Eoin figured he had at least enough time to have a few shots with some of his brothers from a few of the other lesser Noble Houses, before she’d really notice his absence.  Still, when it came down to it the young Lord Mossgard really had nothing to complain about;  he honestly adored Siofra despite her penchant for gossip.  He knew better than some that behind those fine, graceful features and seemingly delicate frame, the Lady Rosquesseau was a wildcat.

 

Maybe later  they’d find their way to one of the Syltamul’s guest rooms in the East Wing of the estate…

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Wynterleaf and Irihi liked
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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
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Joined: 11 months ago
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Journey starter  
Coel Montachade1

Lord Coel Montachade

Spoiler
Dior Grayeus

Dior Grayeus(Consort Elf)

Attended by Dior Grayeus

(Chevalier Servant)

╺ ✽ ╸ 

Lord of the Greater Noble House of Montachade

 

Looking at Dior Grayeus’s immaculate appearance and neutral, carefully arranged expression, one would be hard pressed to guess at the nearly giddy excitement that wound through him as he stepped foot inside of the Syltamul Estate Front Entrance.  It’s almost as if the well-respected reputation he’d garnered amongst the Lesser Noble Houses  as one of the most sought after chevalier servants meant nothing when compared to the huge boost his social status has gained, just by accompanying Lord Coel Montachade to one social event.  Were Dior prone to flights of ridiculous whimsy (he's not), it might almost seem serendipitous that the Masquerade Ball he's attending is the current Must Attend event amongst everyone who’s anyone in Liathlidor high society. 

 

He's not prone to whimsy and he doesn't believe in serendipity.  He believed in himself.

 

Dior Grayeus was a chevalier servant.  He's a professional. He's a mercenary.  His weapons were his looks, his social etiquettes, and his skills behind closed doors.  He traded in the currency of gossip, the strength of that coin backed by reputation.  He had worked hard to move up into the social circle of Liathlidor's upper echelon.  It took a certain cold-blooded tenacity and, if not artifice, then finesse to be able to maneuver the politics of pillow talk and execute coup d'etats betwen the sheets. It took a willingness to be cutthroat and the fortitude to do whatever it takes to keep climbing, no matter what; one had to be able to love and leave, in the same breath.

 

It hadn’t been easy to draw the attention, let alone curry the favor of the young Lord of the Greater Noble House of Montachade.  Coel was notoriously haughty and unsympathetic to those he deemed as beneath his regard, but Dior hadn’t wanted him for his personality.  He didn’t even want him for his looks, though he freely admits that the young Lord was unquestionably captivating.  No, Dior had wanted the status and prestige that attending to Lord Coel Montachade could bring him, which would in turn, allow the chevalier servant to live the type of comfortable lifestyle that he wished; one filled with the sort of luxuries and creature comforts that he could never hope to achieve amongst the Lesser Noble Houses.

 

And now that he was there, attending one of the most highly anticipated social events of the year, in attendance to the Lord who is widely considered to be the Number One Most Eligible Bachelor in Liathlidor, Dior Grayeus planned on staying – by any means necessary.

 

He slid a glance to Coel from the corner of his striking, blue-green eyes, the brunt of his regard hidden by the edge of his black and gold mask.

 

The regal Lord wore a slim-cut, mandarin collar jacket and matching pants made of shimmering, prussian blue silk, with an elegant, gold brocade running down the center of the jacket and  down the side of each pant leg, with additional brocading in a slightly lighter gold adding interest around the cuffs, collar, and shoulders.  Completing the outfit was a light, gold-colored masquerade mask with accented blue edges that enhanced the deep sapphire blue of his eyes, and a polished mahogany cane with an ornate gold handle, fashioned to look like a rose with smooth, rounded edges.  With his long, almost white-blonde hair, pale skin, and tall, graceful figure, Coel appeared almost ethereal, epitomizing the idea of the otherworldly beauty of Elves.  

 

Dior’s lips curved into an appealing yet demure, practiced smile as he leaned towards the young Lord, the subtle movement drawing Coel’s attention as intended.  The taller Elf didn’t address him, only settled his sharp gaze upon his own, giving Dior his attention – at least for a moment.  

 

From what I’ve seen so far, m’lord,” he murmured, his voice pitched just loud enough for the other man to hear.  “None of your fellow Nobles are dressed nearly as fine as you.”  Dior lowered his eyes for a moment, his teeth delicately biting the swell of his bottom lip as he pretended to think.  He looked back up at Coel through his lashes.  “I should imagine that the gossips will have more to say of you, m’lord, than even the Syltamul’s mysterious guest.”  The corners of his mouth tilted up into a sly smirk.

 

Lord Coel Montachade considered Dior’s words for a moment, before his lips briefly twitched up into a small, approving smile.  The overture was a little transparent, but Coel was willing to overlook it – for tonight, at least.  He looked away from the chevalier servant. “Then let us away, Mr. Grayeus, and put eyes on the Syltamul’s mysterious guest.  I am most curious to see who is special enough to warrant such a grand party be thrown in their honor.”


[OOC: Lord Coel Montachade & chevalier Dior Grayeus  to the Grand Tiered Ballroom]

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


Irihi liked
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Wynterleaf
(@wynterleaf)
Citizen Citizen
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 96
 

~ Eddellyn Wynterleaf ~

[OOC: From The Syltamul Estate Stables [Estate Grounds - South]]

Wynterleaf led the way out of the stables, her feet instinctively turned toward the front entrance, little caring that they were approaching from the stables on foot instead of being deposited there directly from the carriage, as the other guests had been. On the threshold of the manor, she stood alongside Travion, acting as his equal, as they waited for the staff to mark their entrance and the curious glances of a few other guests. Holding her head high, she kept her shoulders back as she took in everything around the grand hallway in a glance.

Unlike many of the guests present, she did not wear a practiced smile or exhibit the giddy sense of excitement that threaded through the atmosphere. Instead, her expression was curiously flat, her face unlined by either frown or smile as an altogether unfamiliar feeling curled through her insides, if she had to give it a name, she would have labeled it dread. A feeling of dread not driven from a sense of being in a place that she most certainly didn’t belong but from a less tangible source. The feeling that she had set her foot on a path that was beyond her control, that continuing forward could very well alter her life. The last time she had felt similarly was those many years ago when she had given in to the desire to steal a horse from the Regeant of Tenara.

The air in her lungs felt heavy with impending doom, an urge to turn around and leave nearly a physical ache between her shoulder blades, as Wynterleaf balanced on the edge of the decision to continue forward. Further inside the building the loud raucous laughter of a party-goer scattered the tension that had been building at the base of her spine and with it the urge to leave. She blinked twice, dismissing the feeling as being foolish. She held little belief in the Fates or the notion that her life was beyond her control.

And yet.. without intervention, would you not have died in that shipwreck?

The thought came to her unbidden but she countered it as she always did. That was not destiny, that was a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. For good or ill, my life has always been guided by my decisions.

The reminder was important enough that Edde repeated those words to herself twice, refusing to believe otherwise, even in her own mind.

Music wafted from further in the interior, as guests lingered in the entrance hall, laughing and speaking in the excited tones of people filled with anticipation for the evening to come. She took a couple of halting steps away from Travion’s side before her pace evened and became a bit more graceful, as she moved deeper inside.

All around, light from the chandeliers overhead gleamed off every highly polished surface, from the gilded staircase to the faceted crystal prisms of the chandelier itself. The halls leading away from the entrance were draped with heavy black curtains, the rich fabric was tied in perfectly equal symmetry with gold rope and… diamonds? if she had to make a guess. Wynterleaf’s eyebrows hitched upward at the open display of extravagance, the stones within easy reach of anyone who would care to pluck one from their setting. And yet, she didn’t think that the Syltamul’s were so careless with their possessions, no doubt everything was watched closely or spelled in a way to make a person regret stealing one of the gems.

Having mentally cataloged the entrances and exits of this first room, Wynterleaf’s attention switched to the guests, her grey gaze touching briefly on each person before moving to the next. There was a great display of wealth and aristocracy, the noble bloodlines evident in the lithe forms and ethereal mannerisms of those assembled. Whether they had been born to a life of privilege or had earned their way into this society, not one person looked out of place. Even the staff members were elegantly dressed and wore a simple half-mask over their face, no less a part of this otherworldly setting, a step out of place from the rest of the world.

For a moment, it was easy to pretend the masquerade was a world into itself. Heavy fabrics and jewels winked in the chandelier light; the ladies wrapped in sumptuous gowns with their stiff bodices and heavy skirts; the men no less impressive in cascading lace and rich brocade jackets and matching trousers. The air was scented by floral arrangements and delicate perfumes, though not overwhelmingly so, just enough to be noticeable and still be pleasant. A slight haze also touched the air, giving everything a dreamlike aura, and Wynterleaf had the impression the effect was deliberate, for all that everything she had observed thus on the estate far had been perfectly placed.

Though the same could not be said for herself. It didn’t take a keen eye to see that Wynterleaf was dressed a step out of fashion from the rest, her simple and sleek gown of silk no match for the elegant gowns of the other women, even though she couldn’t deny that the quality matched everyone else. Though she wouldn’t have traded the freedom of her slip dress for a cage of heavy fabrics, she just hoped her outfit wouldn’t draw too many remarks from the other guests, a certain level of anonymity would be needed if she hoped to slip from the crowd unnoticed later in the evening.

Her attention on the crowd, she was caught off guard as a dark-haired and delicate featured elf brushed close to her right elbow, dropping a few words in a hushed tone, close to her ear, “In the hedge maze.

A response about mistaken identity died on her lips as the elf surreptitiously signaled a bit of thieves cant with their fingers and she recognized they were clothed as part of the estate staff. Deliberately, she angled herself away from the elf as they merged back into the crowd, fading in with the background once again as staff often did at these events. Wynterleaf was pleased to know that her gear had made it to the estate as promised and was even now waiting for her somewhere in the gardens, near the maze.

She just needed to determine the best time to slip away, which would likely be when the hosts presented their esteemed and mysterious guest. No doubt everyone assembled would jockey for the chance to personally meet him, eager to fall into the orbit of someone that had the ear of the Syltamul’s - and more, if gossips were to be credited - a chance to increase their own wealth of standing in the social pecking order.

Yes, that would be the perfect time.


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
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Joined: 11 months ago
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Lord Travion Winterlow(Elf Noble) 3
Lord Travion Winterlow

Accompanied by The Elfmaid, Lady Wynterleaf

╺ ✽ ╸ 

Lord of the Greater Noble House Winterlow


[OOC: Part 1/2 - From the Syltamul Stables - post is continued in Part 2

 

Travion found it difficult to lie to himself.  It’s one of the reasons he’s notoriously bad at “playing” the games of politics and social positioning, compared to many of his fellow Nobles.  That didn’t mean that he was as helpless as a newborn babe in shark-chummed waters, of course.  He’s surprisingly adept at reading the subtle tells and nuances in a  person’s speech and mannerisms, like an unwitting, ever-present cache of information for any who can read the cypher.  He found those tiny signals to be more honest than words, a person’s true intentions inadvertently broadcast through a shift in body language, a clench of the jaw, or even in how someone held their hands during casual conversation or passionate debate.  People lie to themselves all the time, but truth is subliminal.  It’s always there, sunk below the surface of conscious thought.  Truth imprinted itself on the body, on the skin; it impressed its quintessence on the breath. 

Travion found the skill incredibly useful during poker games. 

So yes, young Lord Winterlow was bad at lying to himself.  Funnily enough, he wasn’t half-bad at lying to others, although even then he never outright  lied.  He deftly walked the narrow lines of half-truths and withheld key pieces of information with surgical precision.  As proficient as Travion was at reading between the lines of people’s words and actions, he was green as grass compared to some of his fellow Nobles, and all of them were amateur hour compared to the Syltamuls. 

Travion was never out of his depth, however; though he was sometimes forced to take part in the games of intrigue so beloved by some of the others, such things are honestly of little interest to him.  He was never out of his league because he didn’t usually participate in the first place.  On the other hand, while Travion wasn’t known for his clandestine double-dealings, he was known to be one of the most dependable Nobles amongst his peers, and widely considered to be aboveboard in his dealings.  His closest friends always joked that, ‘Trav may not trade in secrets, but he does keep them. I once told him something and forgot…and when I asked, the bastard wouldn’t even tell me my own secret!’  Of course, some exaggeration is expected, but most are shocked to learn how close it came to the truth.  

Whether or not she believed in the Fates, Fortune, or Destiny, Travion nonetheless thought it lucky that Wynterleaf encountered him, out of all of the Bridgeway Nobles, before any of the others.  Some might call it ‘curiously lucky’ and indeed, if Travion hadn’t seen the incontravertible truth that she had no knowledge of him prior to their meeting, he would’ve found their ‘chance’ encounter to be suspiciously convenient.  That it was truly happenstance – mayhap, ‘a happy chance’ – and not premeditated, did much to endear her to him, though it was her amiability with Triggerfeet that won him over. 

Travion is not stupid.  In his world of cutthroat social climbers and two-faced coattail-riders, he could ill-afford to be so witless or so blithely ignorant.  For all that he’s charmed by Wynterleaf, he never doubted that she had ulterior motives.  It was practically expected, and even if she hadn’t sought out Travion specifically, he knew that events would unfold as they had (more or less), the minute she queried after the Syltamuls.  He would’ve considered her to be stupid, or at least exceedingly foolish, if she hadn’t capitalized on their chance meeting to attempt to gain entry to the Syltamul Estate.  To be honest, Travion made up his mind fairly quickly to ask her to accompany him to the Ball – Coel had only expedited the arbitrary timeframe he’d set. 

Travion would be lying if he said that he didn’t know why he did it.  Granted, he invited her partly out of whimsy and partly out of ennui, but it’s not the entire reason.  Every single Noble – every single one –  of the Kingdom Bridgeways, has motives.  Their motives aren’t necessarily insidious (although they often are), nor are they as innocuous as they may appear on the surface.  Of course, there are  motives and then there aremotives – emphasis very much implied.  In this not even Travion is immune.  His reasons are his own; just know that he has them. 

Travion briefly considered the information that Wynterleaf confessed to him as they departed the Syltamul’s Stables, and turned her revelations over in his mind.  Before they drew too close to the Front Entrance and subsequently too close to prying eyes, the young Elf Lord drew her to one side.  He met her gaze with his own and held it, not speaking for a moment as he searched her face for something.  They stood like that for a moment, together creating a chiaroscuro image, each cast half in shadow and half in light; the irony wasn’t lost on him.  Travion breathed a chuckle, and though his expression was  serious, it wasn’t solemn.   He spoke at length.

 Wynterleaf,” he began, his voice at a low, conversational pitch.  His body language was relaxed, casual, giving no passersby on the path a few feet away any cause to take a second look.  “Thank you for your candor,” he finished.  He smiled without artifice; he genuinely meant it.  He continued.  “I hope you do not take offense, but milady…do you really think I had no idea that you were less interested in attending the Syltamul’s Ball with me, than you were in gaining access to the estate?”  Travion’s tone was light.  “Truly?” He raised a brow and offered her a gentle grin, amusement flashing through his eyes.  He wasn’t laughing at her though, that much was clear.  His amusement was for the general situation.  The young lord held up a hand to forestall any interruption.  

That said, I genuinely appreciate forthrightness.  And,” he stepped slightly closer and took her hand, giving her fingers a squeeze.  “I will not betray your trust.”  He looked meaningfully into her eyes.  “I have nothing to give you but my word, in that regard.  You have it, nonetheless.”  Travion raised her hand and pressed his lips to the dark, satiny material stretched over knuckles, then released her.  “You have given me a great deal of trust by confiding in me, and do not be surprised if I call on The Ivy Hand sometime in the future, just to visit with an old friend.”  He winked affably and gave her a fleeting grin, his teeth briefly glinting like a camera flash, dazzling and white against the shadow of night. 

He grew serious again.  “All jests aside, I cannot stress enough the type of danger you are walking into and placing upon yourself.”  Travion’s tone no longer held any trace of humor.  He turned aside his gaze and looked down in thought.  He spoke carefully, choosing his words. “I…mentioned that I knew you were seeking entry to the Syltamul’s Estate, if not seeking access to the Syltamuls, themselves, ” he said.  He raised his eyes and peered directly at the grey-eyed Elfess.  “Wynterleaf, how do you think I kenned that?” He continued to hold her gaze, his own growing sharper.  “If I can impress upon you nothing else, let it be this: The Syltamul’s power isn’t in what but who they know; it’s in the power of those they have access to and in whose ears they bend.  Travion slid his eyes first left, then right, before looking back to her. The meaning was clear: the Syltamul’s have eyes and ears, everywhere.  “If I was able to discern your intent in your simple inquiry regarding information on the Syltamuls, imagine what Coel managed to divine.”  He placed emphasis on the other Lord’s name, hoping she’d understand the implication: Coel is a snake.  If you made any inquiries about the Syltamuls to anyone besides myself and Coel…” he trailed off, his lips briefly compressed into a tight line.  “Then I guarantee that they already know that somebody has been making inquiries about them.”  Travion fell silent for a moment and seemed to gather himself, before he banished his serious expression.

 


[OOC: Part 1/2 - post cut for length & clarity, continued in Part 2]

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Lassroyale
(@lassroyale)
Patron Saint of Hawtbois, Catboys, & BAMF Babes Noble
Joined: 11 months ago
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Journey starter  
 
Lord Travion Winterlow

Accompanied by The Elfmaid, Lady Wynterleaf

╺ ✽ ╸ 

Lord of the Greater Noble House Winterlow


[OOC: Part 2/2 - post is continued from Part 1 

 

That said,'' he began, as his usual easygoing disposition started to seep back through the silvery resonance of his voice. “You are afforded something of a smoke screen by accompanying me to the Ball as my date.  You mentioned the gossips,” he said, before huffing a quiet laugh.  “As much as I complain about them, you want them to be talking about us, Wynterleaf – it’s  just a matter of what they’re saying..”  Travion opened his mouth to continue, when his eyes widened and he abruptly jammed up as if suddenly embarrassed about something.  He coughed into his fist, and used the momentarily delay to decide how to…tactfully approach the next subject.  

 

Eventually, he gave up and instead gave her a rueful twist of his lips. 

 

Travion cleared his throat and plunged ahead.  “I am sure you heard Coel make mention of the fact that I almost never bring a ‘date’ to these types of events,” he said, waiting until he received her nod of affirmation, before continuing.  “Well, he’s not wrong– that’s pretty much my reputation.”  He looked almost proud.  “Actually, you’re my first vis-a-vis that I’ve wanted to bring and ‘officially’ asked to accompany me to one of these things…” the young Lord trailed off and felt a nervous chuckle climb up his throat.  “Aaany-waaay,” he spoke suddenly, drawing the word out. “The reason I  don’t see the point in bringing a date to one of these events – especially an event hosted by the Syltamul’s – is because they always, without fail, end up as one giant, ehh,” he choked on whatever he was going to say.  Instead, he tried to convey his point in a rapid series of aborted gestures that consisted of some vague hand waving and finger flexing.

 

It wasn’t working and Travion knew it.  

 

He threw up his hands in defeat.

 

Look, you’re obviously not some shrinking violet,” he said, shaking his head. “And I mean that as a compliment,”  he quickly added.  The young Lord scowled and issued a half-muttered, half-growled curse indicating deep disgust.  “Do you know how oh-so tedious it is, to be constantly mindful of any ‘colorful’ language that might creep into your speech, because everyone,” here he made air quotes, “must needs protect the ‘ finer feelings’ of the – I apologize – the gentler sex.”  Travion clenched his jaw and shook his head as he pulled up from his side-rant.

 

As if he didn’t want to lose the momentum his mini-rant had built up, the young Lord forged ahead without preamble  “These events always devolve into a bacchanalia – an orgy – of copious, indiscriminate, and consensual ‘anonymous-but-not-really’  sex, where it’s basically assumed that everyone will plough anyone, but their own date.“ Travion tilted his chin down.  His expression seemed to say, ‘Look, although I’m not ashamed, I at least have the good grace to acknowledge that this probably isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.’  

 

In the end, he could only shrug a bit helplessly at Wyn.

 

I apologize, milady,” he said with some amount of amusement  coloring his tone.  He grinned a little at her and said: “I’m not sure why I thought I needed to protect your ‘delicate sensibilities’ – the fact that you’re obviously not  easily offended by so-called ‘ribald’ language, makes you a breath of fresh air.”  Travion said this lightly, although his eyes were thoughtful, sincere; his gaze was heavy when he looked at her.

 

Wynterleaf…” he said, her name escaping on a low hush.  “I must confess that seeing you in that…” his words faded out as he looked her over without shame, though his gaze didn’t linger longer than was proper.   “In that really fabulous dress,”  he continued, somewhat belatedly.  “Has thrown me off balance.  May I speak candidly, milady?  Travion wasn’t really asking.  His voice dropped further to a penetrating whisper.  “I get the sense that you see yourself very differently than I do, than how other people willWhich is to be expected, and yet,” he paused.  His voice was so soft, like he was talking to himself.  “Yet…I wish you would…” Travion again lapsed into silence, a faint furrow in his brow, his expression inscrutable.  

 

After a few seconds he jerked abruptly and came back to himself.  He blinked a few times and then waved a hand in front of his face as if physically dispersing the vagary that’d sidetracked him.  The sparkle returned to his hazel eyes. 

 

M.Chemaux is  truly  a master of his craft,” he said, this time giving her a small, though honest smile.  “And trust me when I say that you will not be looked at as closely as you think.”  Travion made a wide, sweeping gesture to indicate her costume.  “It’s pretty much an accepted fact that if I am bringing a date to the Syltamul’s, that they would stand pretty much in opposition to what is expected for a Lord in my position to take to one of these events.” He could help the irreverence that slipped into his tone.  “I said you were the first person I’ve wanted to bring to an event,” he chuckled. “But you’re not the first.”  There was a glint in his eye as he ticked off a quick list of his disruptive dates.  “Let’s see…I’ve taken my then favorite hunting hound; all five Sisters of the Lesser House Harringdrey  – did I mention they’re all pushing 500 years? They’re also genuinely the most cantankerous old bats you’ll ever meet and are very loud about how much they dislike my generation.  It was a lovely time.”  Travion winked.  “A pair of voluptuous Drow sisters - twins. Which, granted, might not have been my best idea because I’m almost certain they were both Botheral spies…” He took a second to reminisce about the two curvy Drow sisters.  Travion looked wistful.   After sending up a thanks to whoever created the wasp-like figure the female Drow, he continued.  “Finally, the last time anybody needled me about ‘bringing a date’ was after I brought Triggerfeet to a summer garden party.” 

 

Eventually, he found and held Wynterleaf’s gaze.  “So basically, milady, by accompanying me to the Syltamul’s Ball, the gossips will talk, yes – that’s just a fact of life.  However, the gossips will be expecting an outsider, and as far as how much of a ‘fish-out-water’ you’ll be amongst the Nobility?”  He shrugged.  “No offense, milady, but compared to the Drowess twins and what they wore – or rather, what they didn’t wear – you will come across as perfectly dull and average, in contrast.  At least as far as the gossip mill is concerned.”  He continued to hold her gaze, and peered warmly into her grey eyes.  “I meant my earlier warning, Wynterleaf: you are still putting yourself in danger.   I don’t really care what your ultimate goal is or why you wanted to be here – in fact, the less I know, the better. Just be careful, especially because I guarantee either one or both of the Syltamul’s will seek to meet you, at some point during the night.”  

 

Finally, Travion stepped back, affixed his masquerade mask, and offered Wynterleaf his arm.  “I’ve talked your ear off, I know.”  A faint smile skittered across the Elf Lord’s handsome features.  “But I couldn’t let you walk into the lion’s den without saying something, first.”  Travion took a deep breath and when he pushed it out, his easygoing and pleasant demeanor was firmly back, any trace of seriousness or solemnity wiped from his expression.  

He led Wynterleaf along the path and to the Front Entrance.  Before they mounted the steps and crossed the threshold, he leaned over and imparted one last word of advice.  “My two best friends, Hadrian  and Siofra, are waiting for us just inside.  Let my disruptive reputation be your shield.” He smiled at her.  “They’ll love you, of that I have no doubt.  They will lend you an extra layer of legitimacy.”   Travion straightened and affixed an easy, affable smile upon his lips.  He nodded to the doorman.

 

Thus, Lord Travion of the Greater Noble House Winterlow, accompanied by the lovely Elfmaid , Wynterleaf of Tenara, stepped through the Front Entrance of the Syltamul Estate.

 


Spoiler
Apologies for this Cardinal Sin of Posts

@wynterleaf - Hey Lady! I apologize for this (split) cardinal sin of posts.  I really didn't set out to have Travion blather on and on, but alas, here we are. Please feel free to move us into the Grand Tiered Ballroom or whatever.  I apologize for the delay in posting, and I'm doubly sorry that when I finally posted, it's page upon page of dialogue. Please forgive me. 🙂 Hope you're well!

[OOC: Part 2/2 - post is continued from Part 1 

 

 

TOM-CAT: A Stab in the Dark - Pounce!(1/2) - Teleskela - Kiana Beach Battle(1/2/3) - My Prey - Botched Massacre(1/2) - Try Again - ★Powder Keg - Soft,soft - ★Stupid Little Tom-Cat - ★Miiya & Cat-Tom - Sparring(1/2) - Kidney Punch - ☆The Great Tipsu Hunt! - ☆Stolen Kiss - ☆Overwhelmed by Intimacy - Returning to Her - ★Bath Time Bonding - ☆Wings, Tails, & Love - ☆Cave Storms - Climbing the Walls - ★1st Kiss - ★Makeouts & Memories - ★Laughter & Kisses - Eros & Hormones -Cat-Tom: Rescue Kitty! - Cat-Tom vs. Skaven - ☆(Forced) Shift Back - 9-1 Lives - ★A Beast in the Darkness - ☆Bored Nihilism - Cat vs. Dragon - ★Emotionally Exhausted Bath - Catboy, Interrupted - All For Her - ☆Bellissimo Gato
───────────
DAETH: Breaking Callon - Pleasure w/Pain - Sensing Death - ★Kissing Fate(1/2) - Precariously Balanced Nature - At Long Last, Eddellyn - Soul Searching - Into the Maze - ★The Minotaur & The Labyrinth - Heart of the Maze - Before the Storm - Thunder & Honey - ★Ripped Gowns - ★Sensual Poetry - Warding Sigils - Hedonistic Filth & House-Sized Party Crasher - Confronting Maarazaar(1/2/3) - Ash Bunny Irihi
───────────
RISQUÉ: Fun with Fisticuffs!
[Chatte]Enter Chatte - Chat w/Castor -Proposing the Race
──────────────────
[ ☆ = favorite / ★= extra fave]


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Wynterleaf
(@wynterleaf)
Citizen Citizen
Joined: 11 months ago
Posts: 96
 

~ Eddellyn Wynterleaf ~

As Wynterleaf stared out over the people that loitered in the entry hall, waiting for Travion to locate his friends, she examined his earlier words from the courtyard. In truth, never once did she consider his point of view and what he might think of their meeting or her acceptance of his impromptu invitation to the masquerade. She’d not doubted that his off-the-cuff remark about her being his date had only been to divert the prying questions of Coel but he'd nonetheless upheld the invite, something she’d only been too eager to seize as an easy way into the estate. 

After her investigations linked the Syltamuls to the group she sought, she hadn’t bothered to make her interest in the nobles a secret, not caring what anyone thought of her motivations. Perhaps selfishly and unfairly, she hadn’t put much thought toward Travion at all beyond what use he could be to her - it never mattered if he saw her acceptance of his invitation as serving her intentions; just as it hadn’t mattered to her that he might have his own ends in having her come tonight. 

Accompanying him as his guest was a means to an end and she was glad to have spelled that clearly for Travion, even if it hadn’t been a secret in the first place. Even if what they had couldn’t be called a trusting partnership, she did find herself holding a certain respect for the elven noble, and so, had decided to be a bit more forthright. In recent times, she had adopted a practice of telling the truth, or at least avoiding speaking lies by withholding aspects of the truth. Though when pressed, she was more apt to speak plainly, finding it to be just as effective as a lie and likely to catch people off guard. 

I am glad to have everything in the open between us, Lord Travion.” A ghost of a smile flickered across her lips, “And for your compliments and reassurances. I’m gratified to hear that I rank above a hunting hound and a quintet of aged spinsters. Though perhaps, understandably, maybe do not rate quite as high as Triggerfeet.” At this, she gave him a genuine smile, with a hint of laughter to her voice. “I must say you are by far the highest-ranking elf - both in terms of nobility and handsomeness - that I have ever attended a ball with.

The truth, for the only other ball she had ever attended, was in Tenara with an elf that had not been of noble birth and while charming, he did not have the same arresting looks of the Lord Winterlow. Her train of thought derailed at that moment as she recalled the event and the long-lost companion that had the distinction of being her first real friend. It had been an age since she had thought of Dristen, the reasons for their parting no longer clear in her mind along and the soft ache of their lost friendship indiscernible. But remembering him now, of attending a party no less grand than this one, she recognized she had missed the affable presence he had been in her life. Could that be why she had a predilection toward Travion? Did she see something of her long-lost friend in the elven noble? 

Which may also be why she found herself a bit perplexed at his rambling explanation behind his own reasons for bringing her as his guest. He spoke of expectations, delicate sensibilities, and the revelry of the night culminating in sex. It never occurred to Wynterleaf that perhaps he was making overtures towards her and she assumed it was his way of explaining he would be leaving to seek out his pleasures in the darkened corners of the estate. Did he think she expected his undivided attention and that she would be disappointed, or jealous, if he turned to other people?

She mentally shrugged, it mattered little to her who or what he might seek out during the ball. It was understood a masquerade was the place to shroud one’s actions under the pretense of anonymity, whether real or false and throw caution to the wind. That was a fact she was counting on to hide her activities as the evening wore on. 

But she sought to ease his mind on that front and remarked in an offhand manner, “Please don’t censor yourself on my account, it’ll only serve to itisya me enough that I’ll drop colorful language for the both of us. And far be it for me to stand in the way of you finding whatever excitement you wish to seek tonight.” 

A servant passed her, carrying a tray of drinks and she snaked her hand out to pluck one off the edge before they disappeared further inside. Raising the delicate crystal to her mouth she tilted the glass in the pretense of taking a sip, the liquid close enough for the bubbles to tickle her nose but she didn’t taste the sparkling drink. It served as a prop to help her blend with the crowd, for regardless of how carefree she acted, she remained quite alert. 

Which brought her mind back around to Travion’s last remarks, a warning of the dangers she was putting herself into. 

What exactly was it about herself that people felt the need to warn her? First Vincen and now Travion, when none of the thieves' guild or shadows in the streets had felt a similar need. Did she present herself as the kind of person that wasn’t capable? What life did they think she came from? It seemed clear on the dangers she was courting; she sought someone or something that had essentially razed a town with barely any trace left behind; someone with enough influence that nearly a whole of a country didn’t know their identities or were too frightened to speak of them. Whether that was the Syltamuls themselves or one of their associates, didn't change the menace in her quest. Truthfully, after more than a year on the trail, she almost wished that it was the Syltamuls who was responsible; it would mean she was near the end of her journey for answers. 

She huffed an inaudible sigh, knowing that would be too easy and inevitably there would be another thread to follow. Her time away from Aniada was far from over. 

Still she weighed Travion’s warning one final time, the sincerity of his voice enough to warrant her turning toward him again now, studying him closely, seeking an indication that he knew what happened in Kiana. And if not him, there was the a real possibility he had funding or influence in such an activity. Never trust the nobility and all that, she reminded herself. 

She pressed her lips firmly together. If she failed at finding answers on the estate, she may very well find herself coming back around to Travion to interrogate him further. 

But despite the turn of her thoughts, she remained at his side patiently watching as he acknowledged a people and made a few general greetings. Moving deeper into the hall, she spied a petite elf dressed in a gown encrusted with gems, enough to make her glow under the candlelight. Next to her stood a taller elf, clad in rich dark clothes with a grin playing about his mouth as he surveyed the room from his higher vantage point.

Wynterleaf thought that his expression might have changed on spotting them and she murmured at Travion's side, calling his attention to the pair, “Are they your friends?

Spoiler
OOC
I always start with intentions of doing a moderate length post but then it always evolves into something twice as long. Next time it'll be shorter...


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