This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Cainneach was apparently too caught up in the whirling about, the cacophony of singing, instruments, and the chatter of the crowd, his affection for the highland girl, and his own moderate consumption to notice that Famh might have swung past a mellow buzz into a far more volatile state of invigoration. He should have seen it, with all the blushes she'd inflicted upon him previously, should have seen that something was coming. Yet even if he had, it was unlikely Cainneach would have anticipated the magnitude of her public exclamation.
"So we might as well get all the embarrassment in that regard out of the way all at once."
"Oh no, Famh, what are you doing ..." It was too late that Cainneach realized that this utterance was never going to be voiced loudly enough to dissuade Famh from going ahead with the proclamation to the room. Artfully made, and at least respectful to the god that many of these people likely revered and to the Duke himself, but mortifying to Cainneach nonetheless. Wasn't this what he wanted? Just not like this. Not in front of all these people he did not know. People who mattered in a much larger sense to what will happen to the people of Ellesland than either he or Famh, even if their role in what was to come were a hundred times greater.
Cainneach's eyes, which should have been fixed on Famh during this momentous declaration, darted from her to the Duke, to the Baron, Almeric, Lady Ailsa. He could only imagine the look that Ori was giving him, as he couldn't reasonably pivot to where the burly and surly man had retreated. It was possible that the lighting from the chandeliers and candles on the table might have disguised the blush on his cheeks, but it wasn't likely. As Famh raised her glass, Cainneach mechanically fumbled for his as well, raising it to meet her salute with a smile and a nod. He took a sip as well, pondering what this sudden betrothal would mean for them in practical terms and bracing for whatever would follow from his new fiancee. With the conclusion rapidly nearing, it was time to decide what response would be most appropriate given the circumstances.
Insight21 (how much did Famh screw up?) Persuasion20 (trying to play it cool, unruffle any feathers out there)
The chivalrous thing to do is to support Famh, for he does love her after all, so fleeing the scene or chastening her for her inebriation won't do. Speaking of chivalry, it would likely be untoward, even with this rougher Thulish nobility, to sweep Famh away with a wink and a laugh and carry her out of the hall. It also wouldn't do to expose the Baron to any further embarrassment, so let's just middle it. Cainneach puts on a big smile, trying to appear flattered and also conciliatory to the hosts for the interruption. He gently pulls Famh to him, takes her head gently in both hands, and kisses her on the lips before raising his glass to the crowd and yelling, "Hear hear, I couldn't imagine a grander hall and more gracious hosts for this thoroughly unexpected, yet entirely earnest proclamation! Please, another song so that we might continue the revels!" His empty hand slides to Famh's and he entwines his fingers in hers. He sits down, pulling her downward to her seat as well. Cainneach shakes his head with a wondering smile. "What have you done, my wild woman? I do love you, but you've got to stop surprising me like this, it'll put me in an early grave! There's no need to rush things, we'll have all the time we need. Let's just hope the fallout from this is not too severe." After a pause to once again survey the response in the room, he grips her hand tightly, leans in close, and says, "Now come, m'eudail, I believe I owe you at least one more dance this evening!"
Almeric took the first dance with Ailsa and maybe a few more. After a discrete time, the Capellar offered dances to each of Ailsa's sister's and even the Duchess herself, careful to maintain proper decorum at all times. This would be seen by most as polite and courteous diplomacy, with absolutely no licentious intent. Almeric does intent to spend most of the rest of the evening with Ailsa. He wants to thank her profoundly for her generosity and kindness towards Fahm. in particular, as well as opening himself up to any other 'opportunities'. His mind explored the many possible futures before him. How could a penniless, landless knight like him ever hope to attract the daughter of a Duke? She would be marrying beneath her station, unless he could gain land, influence, rank and wealth. Besides, the Capellar Oath, which he was due to take next year, required a life-long commitment of chastity. Sir Ambrose Blayk, one of Aldred's household knights, had trodden this path before him. He had been a Capellar, had retired, married and fathered a son in Master Blaise Blayk. Ambrose had seemingly achieving all these things, so surely Almeric could too?
Almeric had been enjoying the entertainment as the evening progressed. The musicians, the dancing, the jugglers and fools, together with the wine and ale produced a heady mix of celebration and relaxation. Even in the midst of the banquette, he and the Retinue were working. Fahm and Cainneach were providing an obvious distraction, even if they didn't intent to, drawing the attention of many away from the Duke and Baron's conversations. Thatch was dancing will the exuberance of youth, and was totally disarming. Ori was 'standing post', another distraction if less obvious. The less observant might think themselves clever to spot him, leaning on a post to one side and watching everyone else. Almeric had created his own distraction by dancing with Ailsa most of the time. In an unspoken and unthinking act of team work, each member had enabled Fergus and Tana to work from the shadows, gathering vital information without being noticed themselves.
At Famh and Cainneachs betrothal announcement there was scattered uncertain applause which rose to far greater heights when Duchess Carnasse began to clap followed by the Duke and then the rest of the High Table. Baron Aldred looked momentarily nonplussed shooting Almeric a most curious glance before applauding himself.
Dancing continued along with whispered conversations and other dealings,
Sir Almeric-
In your conversations with Lady Ailsa you are somewhat struck by her most definite discomfort at your thanks but it becomes clear at a later point after dancing with the Duchess, while being regarded most carefully by Duke Carnasse, when Lady Ailsa confides why. She is the last born of the Dukes children and her mother did not long survive her birth, it is for this reason that she goes out of her way to make herself of maximum use and minimum fuss to the household.....Almeric can determine this is mostly out of guilt but he also senses there is lingering and unresolved tension between Ailsa and her father. His dance with Lady Margie consisted mostly of her making somewhat sly remarks regarding his obvious interest in her younger sister and making eyes at someone in the crowd that Almeric could never quite pick out. Lady Florie, the eldest, danced with him maintaining the utmost decorum and released him almost immediately at the reels conclusion with a gracious smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Michael was dancing, badly, with not only his sisters but a number of household members who did their best to keep him on an even keel. Duke Carnasse and baron Aldred spent the dances in quiet conversation.
Cainneach/Famh-
The betrothal announcement seemed to go over rather well and Cainneachs keen eyes noted a pang of deep jealousy from Lady Margie as Famh spoke. Duke Carnasse and Baron Aldreds approval sealed the deal and there would be no way of backing out of such a publically declared and approved pairing even is they had wanted to...which they obviously did not. Both Famh and Cainneach watched Thatch get passed around during the dancing and his stable earned light footwork seemed to meet with the approval of many. Ori could barely be seen up against a pillar as he was though it was apparent someone was watching him as well, a tall....very tall...figure seated at one of the wall tables in shadow.
Between dances Thatch was engaged by Sir Mary and Sir Moluag regarding his expertise in horse husbandry and the difficulties of adapting southern horses to the harsh Thuland winters.
Thatch-
During his dances he interacted with Bethany, the Constable of Sewark Keep who was greatly interested in his stable experience with both the Dayne and Aldred Households and Duke Carnasses Valet of Chambers a silver haired Chaubrettan with a sparkle in his eye and perhaps a little too much wine under his belt. He also danced with a parcel of the senior maids who all complimented him on his grooming and impeccable steps. It was when Famh and Cainneach made their sudden impromptu announcement that he, for a moment, imagined he saw something small and quick move on the beams high up in the vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall....and then it was gone.
Ori watched everything carefully, his stomach settling somewhat when he stood-
The dance was interesting, as much a performance as anything he had done as part of the travelling shows......everyone was wearing masks....though were better at keeping tham on than others. As he watched he saw Love, Pain, Grief, Jealousy, Longing all play their part....Duke Carnasses son was not as inebrieted as he pretended and was intentionally picking his way towards the far wall where someone stood in the shadows concealed, both of the Thulish Knights were watching Lady Margie though the concern on both their faces had different origins and the Duchess.....she had evidently found who she was looking for...an elderly richly dressed man stood at the rear of the hall with a most sour expression on his face...the Duchesses expression as she regarded him was almost triumphant.
As Ori watched he felt eyes upon his own back but when he turned there was no one there.
The evening began to wind down and jugglers, entertainers and storytellers roamed the Hall as people broke into small groups and retreated to tables to nurse their tired feet and enjoy a final drink.
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Cainneach is immensely relieved that Famh's impetuous declaration of her undying love for him had not semeed to have cost the party any measure of esteem, or to have complicated the Baron's delicate negotations. He was, however, a little concerned by the look of jealousy on Lady Margie's face, coupled with the odd story he'd heard of her earlier in the evening.
Perception18 (trying to determine the target of Lady Margie's jealousy and if she exhibits any fey characteristics - that's the main thing Cainneach associates w/magic, can alternatively roll Arcana +1) Insight14 (trying to determine if her feeling portends any malicious actions)
The large figure in the shadows keeping an eye on their sergeant was also of concern. What should have been a happy occasion for many reasons is starting to have an ominous air.
Perception12 (looking for more detail on the individual observing Ori)
Almeric listens with empathy and care to Ailsa's story of grief. It was indeed an honour for such sensitive and personal details to be shared about such a tragedy. The tragedy of a husband loosing his wife in childbirth was bad enough. The double tragedy of the father not being able to take solace and pride in the life of this new born daughter must have been interminable for father, daughter and all those observing. Years of healing had not had the desired effect on the father. Perhaps some time apart would aid the healing?
"Do you have any family or friends you can stay with? Perhaps lady, some time away from your father may make his heart grow fonder? I'm sure as soon as the Duchess is blessed with child, all will be forgotten in the joyous celebrations." Almeric is trying to be a friend to Ailsa, as she was a friend to Fahm. Leaving the lady in thought, Almeric moves around the Head Tables from the side, walking behind the two principles and kneeling between their chairs, in order to speak with them privately.
"Apologies my Lords, I fear there was none more surprised than the Groom to hear that nuptial announcement."chuckles Almeric. "Rest assured, enemies have under-estimated our strength in the past, unable to measure what they cannot see, for and as you know, it is what you can't see that kills you. If there is some small service I can do for you, your Grace, to demonstrate the true value of the Retinue, I will gladly do it." Aldred is well aware of the tactical advantage of the Dayne Retinue.
Cainneach and Famh twirl their way through the crowd a few more times, more relaxed and flowing now that their respective burdens had been relieved. These were 1) Famh's desire to have their betrothal proverbially etched in stone by having it witnessed by the two most important people, by rank of birth, in their lives at the moment, and 2) Cainneach's concern that Famh's unbridled exuberance may have cost the Baron and, by extension, their retinue dearly. Fortunately, love conquers all, as they say, and now they could fully revel in their young love without too much fear of judgement.
That being said, there was yet a little fear, at least in Cainneach's mind, of Lady Margie. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned (at least I assume that remains true in Ellesland), and the look of jealousy in her eyes during Famh's performance was of some concern. Cainneach had sought to identify any individual the Lady may have been seeking out in that moment, and tried to take a closer look at her as well. Or was she perhaps aiming venom at Famh?
After enjoying Thatch and Almeric's performances on the dance floor, another dance of their own, and too many congratulations on their engagement, Cainneach drew Famh back to their table. After checking to see that no one appears to be eavesdropping, he takes Famh's hands in his and says to her, "Oh, leannan! What a marvel you are! I don't know if I can ever learn to trust my emotions as you trust yours, but I should know by now to trust you! I'm sorry for being so worried earlier, everything seems to be turning out so well. I do have a token for you, a sign of our bond, but I dinnae have it with me here. I'd planned to give it to you soon, hopefully in some wild, sacred place far from the crowds of these cities, but I suppose that's not what the gods had in mind for you and I." He lifts her hands to his lips and kisses them gently. "Could I ask you something about the crowd here, though ... Have you found anything about the Lady Margie odd? She seemed stricken while you spoke, perhaps spurned by another? I also heard a rumour that she had appeared out of nowhere in her bedchambers, badly scaring one of her attendants. Do you think she may be favoured by the fey and their glamours, as you are? I tried to get a better look, but it was difficult to see. There were other tales as well, but I think Almeric and Thatch might have heard more on those."
It is a splendid feast... Thinks Vardi to herself ...Fine food, and plenty of it, music and dancing and so many merry people in such interesting attire. If only I did not have to finish that last piece tomorrow morning, and with a clear head too... then sighs.
Morag who she thinks of as Sharp-Tongue, the deft-handed lady who makes the small fittings for Master Gregor, whose eye is as sharp as her tongue sits next to her among the side tables and prods her in the elbow with a finger, as it is closer than Vardi's shoulder. Perhaps bolder than usual with a drink or three in her, the dark-haired woman cackles at the quiet blonde girl "Oh get on woman, ye bin staring at the big fella since the music started! Ask him ta dance, ya daftie girl. What ye frit of? Tis only dancin'!"
"Look after my basket then, Morag. One dance, assuming they even accept, and then I must get home." Vardi says after a moment, takes her courage in her hands as she stands up, ducking her head out of wariness forged by more than a year of living with doors too short and rafters too low and walks as demurely as she can in the soft grey felt slippers that still pinch a little in their newness onwards to the watchful man leaning up against the wooden pillar.
Nervous at her daring, yet too far now to go back and face Morag's teasing if she does not at least ask, and unsure as to what tongue she should ask in, Vardi tries not to loom over the man as she silently smiles, and makes an awkward curtsey to him. Feeling the blush creeping up her face already, she offers him her hand, looks towards the now less crowded dance floor, then back to him, a question in her eyes.
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Looking over Famh's shoulder, Cainneach notes the massive seated figure speaking with her companion, then stand and move toward Ori. He's immediately on alert and Famh feels Cainneach's grip on her hands tighten slightly and sees his eyes narrow.
... and then immediately relax. "Famh, look to our brave sergeant over there. Looks like Ori may have an admirer! I'd imagine he can handle himself, popular as he seems to be, but I've never seen a woman that size before."
Ori, a bit shocked, as the towering woman walked up to him. Ori always considered himself to be a big man, but truth was he was a slightly average height at best. He had a massive chest and arms, smaller then in his performing days but still larger then others he had met. Looking up and seeing the nood to the dance floor, Ori's stomach dropped. She was the first to dare ask him out there tonight, he wasn't a bad dancer, he just like to move through the crowds as he went. Normally in a event he is the one getting people to the floor, spending more time convincing others then actually dancing himself. But the queen of the sea still seems to have her grasp on him, no rythum, no urge to move about, he still didn't dare drink the wine in the cup he was holding. He almost shooed her away, which was his plan if anyone asked him, but he had been feeling eyes on him since moving away from the tables and suspected it took a bit of encouragement for her to approach him. Well the least he could do was to be civil. Hearing Fahm's declaration earlier did make Ori crack a smile so he knew he could still. "You look like your about as accustomed to doing that as I am in this blasted gitup." (Referring to the awkward curtsey) He pulls at his collor. "I like to think this blasted garb they wrapped me up in that is keeping most at bay from this post, but I suppose it more likely the sourness the sea left me working its magic. I don't think I have it in me to do more then keep this post from falling over. You are more then welcome to assist in the task if you wish. In a day or two I'm sure I'd be up for sweeping you around the dance floor but I have a feeling this feast will be over by then. Would ya accept a raincheck for place with a bit more class, perhaps with a few broken chairs and tables?" He stretches his hand out. "Ori."
Cainneach and Famh twirl their way through the crowd a few more times, more relaxed and flowing now that their respective burdens had been relieved. These were 1) Famh's desire to have their betrothal proverbially etched in stone by having it witnessed by the two most important people, by rank of birth, in their lives at the moment, and 2) Cainneach's concern that Famh's unbridled exuberance may have cost the Baron and, by extension, their retinue dearly. Fortunately, love conquers all, as they say, and now they could fully revel in their young love without too much fear of judgement.
That being said, there was yet a little fear, at least in Cainneach's mind, of Lady Margie. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned (at least I assume that remains true in Ellesland), and the look of jealousy in her eyes during Famh's performance was of some concern. Cainneach had sought to identify any individual the Lady may have been seeking out in that moment, and tried to take a closer look at her as well. Or was she perhaps aiming venom at Famh?
After enjoying Thatch and Almeric's performances on the dance floor, another dance of their own, and too many congratulations on their engagement, Cainneach drew Famh back to their table. After checking to see that no one appears to be eavesdropping, he takes Famh's hands in his and says to her, "Oh, leannan! What a marvel you are! I don't know if I can ever learn to trust my emotions as you trust yours, but I should know by now to trust you! I'm sorry for being so worried earlier, everything seems to be turning out so well. I do have a token for you, a sign of our bond, but I dinnae have it with me here. I'd planned to give it to you soon, hopefully in some wild, sacred place far from the crowds of these cities, but I suppose that's not what the gods had in mind for you and I." He lifts her hands to his lips and kisses them gently. "Could I ask you something about the crowd here, though ... Have you found anything about the Lady Margie odd? She seemed stricken while you spoke, perhaps spurned by another? I also heard a rumour that she had appeared out of nowhere in her bedchambers, badly scaring one of her attendants. Do you think she may be favoured by the fey and their glamours, as you are? I tried to get a better look, but it was difficult to see. There were other tales as well, but I think Almeric and Thatch might have heard more on those."
The massive eruption by which she publicly declared her love for him, coupled ;) with the courteous and friendly reception it has received, has certainly put Famh more at her ease than he can remember having seen her before. But as he thinks over the whirlwind days and weeks leading up to this moment, Cainneach realizes more and more how major this moment is in his beloved's life. In the rescue of Tusk (and a few events immediately preceding thereof) he saw Famh grow from a lost, teary eyed child with a mute look of incomprehension on her face as the world buffets her about that makes her misery far more unbearable to watch than if she'd been able to let those tears fall; to a competent and confident girl on the edge of young womanhood helping her friends ... and he chief among them ... do something good. Now, the adult Famh has spoken for herself for all the world to hear; declaring openly what she believes and what she wants, who she loves, and who she intends to spend the remainder of her life with. And the goodness and courtesy in her still remains, and he can still look in the mirror and see the remaining variable ... now a constant ;) ... in those two last equations. He apparently is, was, and always will be who she wants, fairly permanently.
Given all this, it reassures Cainneach but does not too deeply surprise him when his mention of Lady Margie elicits only a brief flash of jealousy in her eyes before the details of her story melts her into sympathy. "Och, poor Lady! I'll have to make friends with the poor girl and find out. Just after I get done getting to know Lady Ailsa a little better. Or at the same time. I'm no sure there's not more to Ailsa than we knew either." This being the limit of her attention span for other subjects as of yet, she softens back towards him. "I'm so sorry I spoiled your surprise, though! That was so sweet of you to think of a token, Alais said bo ... men often don't. And I've had my eyes out for something worthy of the full love I feel for you. The closest I've come sae far is to give you an old hunting trap I picked up shortly after I left Brymstone and ha' been luggin' aboot wi' me ever sin even though I don't ken the first thing about hunting. That didn't seem terribly romantic, though, -- but perhaps that's only me." She laughs and squeezes his shoulder affectionately.
... and then immediately relax. "Famh, look to our brave sergeant over there. Looks like Ori may have an admirer! I'd imagine he can handle himself, popular as he seems to be, but I've never seen a woman that size before."
Famh immediately forgets about making friends with Ladies Margie and Ailsa, at least for the moment. Cainneach imagines her attention will shortly return to business, since they were talking about that subject only moments before, but her fascination is now completely focused on one point in the room as she giggles, "Oh, my. ... ... ... ORI ... !!!"
She instantly slips off her seat. Mistaking his words to mean that he wants her to "look to" Ori in the sense of doing something about him (though she isn't quite sure what he believes she ought to do), she tries to slip a little closer and find out what kind of person his admirer is, discreetly keeping to the shadows so neither of them will see her and feel uncomfortable.
The full goblet of strong northern wine she belted down in one swallow not too long before leads her to suppose ... or rather, imagine ... that there is a statistically significant likelihood of this working out as she planned.
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Quote from OisinmacCameron>>She clucks her tongue. "Sic' a pity too. A young lad like ye must ha' at least ane starry-eyed milkmaid waiting ye wi' bated breath at the Dayne manor, now. 'Twould be tragic if ye didn't make it back to her safe and whole ..."" Allowing just enough time for the full implications of that last innuendo to sink in, she caps the whole with a merry laugh.
Thatch blushes red as the implication of Famh’s comment sinks in and he finishes the dance with a twirl for the lady and a deep bow before excusing himself and finding another glass of wine. He is slightly taken aback at the engagement, even if only by the timing and fervor of the announcement, but he claps heartily and raises a glass in toast with the other party goers. As he raises his glass, he sees just the barest hint of movement in the rafters out of the corner of his eye. Frowning, he excuses himself from his immediate company, Constable Bethany, and starts to move toward where Ori was posted against the pillar. Before he could arrive, however, he was surprised to see he was beaten to the Sergeant by another visitor, a large women that appeared to tower over him. Breaking off to give them some space, Thatch is determined to solve this latest mystery on his own and moves around the room to get a better look at the ceiling to see if he can catch another glimpse of movement. Perception: 16.
Ori, a bit shocked, as the towering woman walked up to him. Ori always considered himself to be a big man, but truth was he was a slightly average height at best. He had a massive chest and arms, smaller then in his performing days but still larger then others he had met. Looking up and seeing the nood to the dance floor, Ori's stomach dropped. She was the first to dare ask him out there tonight, he wasn't a bad dancer, he just like to move through the crowds as he went. Normally in a event he is the one getting people to the floor, spending more time convincing others then actually dancing himself. But the queen of the sea still seems to have her grasp on him, no rythum, no urge to move about, he still didn't dare drink the wine in the cup he was holding. He almost shooed her away, which was his plan if anyone asked him, but he had been feeling eyes on him since moving away from the tables and suspected it took a bit of encouragement for her to approach him. Well the least he could do was to be civil. Hearing Fahm's declaration earlier did make Ori crack a smile so he knew he could still. "You look like your about as accustomed to doing that as I am in this blasted gitup." (Referring to the awkward curtsey) He pulls at his collor. "I like to think this blasted garb they wrapped me up in that is keeping most at bay from this post, but I suppose it more likely the sourness the sea left me working its magic. I don't think I have it in me to do more then keep this post from falling over. You are more then welcome to assist in the task if you wish. In a day or two I'm sure I'd be up for sweeping you around the dance floor but I have a feeling this feast will be over by then. Would ya accept a raincheck for place with a bit more class, perhaps with a few broken chairs and tables?" He stretches his hand out. "Ori."
Vardi, acutely aware that she is probably attracting more attention to herself than might be considered polite among the gentlefolk, nonetheless stays put and smiles at Ori's comments about uncomfortably new clothes. When he explains his reasons for declining, her face clouds a little in disappointment, but she is sympathetic in tone when she replies "If yer feet are still walking on rollin' deck, then I can see now tha' it would be difficult for ye ta dance on land for now."
"I would be most happy to watch the festivities from here with ye for a little while." the giantess says with a grateful smile, her complexion a little grey herself in the feast hall's flickering torch light as she nervously twists the end of one wheat-straw blonde plait between her fingers, then confides "Furniture out here away from home seems ta be a bit on tha' fragile side for me as it is." then takes his proffered hand with a surprisingly gentle grip as she offers "I am Vardi." in return.
"You are wise indeed to have found the closest thing to the cure for sea-sickness here Ori..." she adds, a spark of mischief in her faded cornflower eyes as she glances up at the support post.
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She meant to be discreet. She really, truly did mean to be discreet this time.
But ...
Well, there are two buts this time. One, as before ... it's Famh.
But the second; NEVER before has she been trying to be discreet at a time when she was this unequivocally and without possibility of cavil, appeal or do-over ... ... ...
thoroughly, passionately and 1000%%% ...
DRUnK,
. ... !!! The strong northern wine she belted down a full goblet of mere moments before combines with her soaring heart and ... em ... the wine and ... ah ... was I saying something? LOL
And just as she 'casually' drifts out of one shadow into another and comes within easy earshot of the magnificently proportioned Thulshwoman interested in Ori, she happens to turn her head and see Sir Almeric talking with Ailsa in a discreetly shadowed corner as they rest between dances. The sight completely derails her attention, and she immediately calls across in a voice loud enough to still be clearly audible to him over the intervening conversations, "Och, Sir Almeric, could ye thank the good Lady for her kindness to Cainneach and me? Ye know how to put things so much more gracefully than we ever could. And please thank the Duke for us too when ye gae back to the high tabl ..."
Then her hand flies to her mouth as she remembers what she was about at first, and she hastily turns back to the original object of her curiosity. Having missed the initial stages through lack of attentiveness ;>, she has no idea Vardi and Ori have already become acquainted.
"Ah, I'm sae sorry! I don't mean any harm, but o' course I'm oot of me heid this ee'n. I do confess I was comin' over to spy on ye, but it's only because this big fellow is by way of bein' a bit of a friend of ours frae the retinue too so ... now I've gotten distracted and gone and announced myself when I only meant to sneak up on ye, I could introduce you if you'd like. He's a bit shy-like, but he does relax a bit more when there's not this many folk aboot." Her eyes begin to twinkle. "Ori ... I ken ye've had an interesting life. Perhaps the two of ye would find it easier just talking here on the edges, and you could tell her some stories of the things you've seen. Try not to be too modest now, ye have to admit yourself at least a little bit of a hero to have stuck with us all this time. And if 'twasn't for you and that greet shillaleigh ye've got back in the arming chest, we'd never have brought Harald out of Hob's Dell and exposed the traitor. And then we'd never have been here in the first place, so in a sense Cainneach and I owe this chance to celebrate our engagement at least partly to you."
As she starts back to rejoin Cainneach, she whispers to Vardi, "He really is a hero, but his sleeves are pinching him so he's just a wee tad grumpy toneet. But he's got a place at the first honour table twi' all the rest of us, and if ye scratch Sir Mary and Sir Moluag right they baith fart in Thulish just like the rest of us. Come over whenever ye like, and if anybody gives ye trouble tell them they'll make Famh cry and spoil her engagement that the Duke just applauded. And then stick yer tongue oot at 'em and come over anyhow. As I'm finding myself, sometimes ye have to be ladylike to not trouble folk, but other times ye're rewarded better if ye're just the least bit outrageous in the midst of all yer courtesy."
Um ... of course it is to be understood that this is a whisper from Famh, in her current condition --- but reminded by her recent raucous shout to try her VERY BEST to be discreet LOL (Stealth, advantage, penalty increased to -3 8).. (which was the closest way I could figure of simulating a wild surge without actually triggering one)
Regardless of the result of her attempt at concealment, she turns to the nearest guard as if he was new-come on the scene and had heard none of this. "This is a new warm personal childhood friend of mine. Or will be. Is there nae uisgebeatha aboot for a girl to celebrate her engagement wi?! I'd never want to embarrass yer Duke, but I'm fearing I probably already have done to my poor Cainneach right out in the middle of hall about as much as he can bear right now, so he might prefer it too if we slip aside here for a quiet nip every now and again." The total contradiction between this and her invitation to Vardi mere moments before to come over and join them at the table has not yet caught up with her overheated brain.
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Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
And just as she 'casually' drifts out of one shadow into another and comes within easy earshot of the magnificently proportioned Thulshwoman interested in Ori, she happens to turn her head and see Sir Almeric talking with Ailsa in a discreetly shadowed corner as they rest between dances. The sight completely derails her attention, and she immediately calls across in a voice loud enough to still be clearly audible to him over the intervening conversations, "Och, Sir Almeric, could ye thank the good Lady for her kindness to Cainneach and me? Ye know how to put things so much more gracefully than we ever could. And please thank the Duke for us too when ye gae back to the high tabl .."
Almeric had spent most of the dancing with Ailsa, whilst diplomatically engaging with the other ladies of the court as well. Almeric had spent a similar amount of time talking with Michael earlier, so this time spent with Ailsa may not seem untoward, if one was being polite and generous. Just when he thought the evening was calming down, it was brought to his attention that the Shepherdess might be drunk, as she bellowed across the hall once again. It is then then that Almeric notices Vardi and Famh's indescretion is forgotten.
"By The Saviour! I'll loose my flank unless my Sergeant can hold again that Scythian Shieldmaiden!" Gasps Almeric with comedic effect. "If you had a bodyguard like that, you could travel anywhere in some confidence. If you had a handmaiden like Famh, you never be bored either" chuckles at his own joke.
Almeric listens with empathy and care to Ailsa's story of grief. It was indeed an honour for such sensitive and personal details to be shared about such a tragedy. The tragedy of a husband loosing his wife in childbirth was bad enough. The double tragedy of the father not being able to take solace and pride in the life of this new born daughter must have been interminable for father, daughter and all those observing. Years of healing had not had the desired effect on the father. Perhaps some time apart would aid the healing?
"Do you have any family or friends you can stay with? Perhaps lady, some time away from your father may make his heart grow fonder? I'm sure as soon as the Duchess is blessed with child, all will be forgotten in the joyous celebrations." Almeric is trying to be a friend to Ailsa, as she was a friend to Fahm. Leaving the lady in thought, Almeric moves around the Head Tables from the side, walking behind the two principles and kneeling between their chairs, in order to speak with them privately.
"Apologies my Lords, I fear there was none more surprised than the Groom to hear that nuptial announcement."chuckles Almeric. "Rest assured, enemies have under-estimated our strength in the past, unable to measure what they cannot see, for and as you know, it is what you can't see that kills you. If there is some small service I can do for you, your Grace, to demonstrate the true value of the Retinue, I will gladly do it." Aldred is well aware of the tactical advantage of the Dayne Retinue.
" The Duchess.....blessed with child.....", Lady Ailsa held a hand up to her mouth and suppressed a laugh. " That would be a miracle indeed...."
But then she seemed to remember herself and smoothed down her dress as her face regained its composure, her eyes went hard as flint.
" Forgive me, I have spoken out of turn. That is family business and you are not family."
Her expression softened for a brief moment as she turned away.
"......yet."
Later....
Duke Carnasse met Almerics eyes with a smile, as Famhs rear impacted the floor after missing her seat, " Well hidden then?"
He caught Baron Aldreds eye and registered the quick nod, " I may have a task for you, if it won't interfere with your safeguarding of your Lord."
That being said, there was yet a little fear, at least in Cainneach's mind, of Lady Margie. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned (at least I assume that remains true in Ellesland), and the look of jealousy in her eyes during Famh's performance was of some concern. Cainneach had sought to identify any individual the Lady may have been seeking out in that moment, and tried to take a closer look at her as well. Or was she perhaps aiming venom at Famh?
After enjoying Thatch and Almeric's performances on the dance floor, another dance of their own, and too many congratulations on their engagement, Cainneach drew Famh back to their table. After checking to see that no one appears to be eavesdropping, he takes Famh's hands in his and says to her, "Oh, leannan! What a marvel you are! I don't know if I can ever learn to trust my emotions as you trust yours, but I should know by now to trust you! I'm sorry for being so worried earlier, everything seems to be turning out so well. I do have a token for you, a sign of our bond, but I dinnae have it with me here. I'd planned to give it to you soon, hopefully in some wild, sacred place far from the crowds of these cities, but I suppose that's not what the gods had in mind for you and I." He lifts her hands to his lips and kisses them gently. "Could I ask you something about the crowd here, though ... Have you found anything about the Lady Margie odd? She seemed stricken while you spoke, perhaps spurned by another? I also heard a rumour that she had appeared out of nowhere in her bedchambers, badly scaring one of her attendants. Do you think she may be favoured by the fey and their glamours, as you are? I tried to get a better look, but it was difficult to see. There were other tales as well, but I think Almeric and Thatch might have heard more on those."
Cainneach thought more on the glance he had seen....there had been something almost....wistful...about it.
The massive eruption by which she publicly declared her love for him, coupled ;) with the courteous and friendly reception it has received, has certainly put Famh more at her ease than he can remember having seen her before. But as he thinks over the whirlwind days and weeks leading up to this moment, Cainneach realizes more and more how major this moment is in his beloved's life. In the rescue of Tusk (and a few events immediately preceding thereof) he saw Famh grow from a lost, teary eyed child with a mute look of incomprehension on her face as the world buffets her about that makes her misery far more unbearable to watch than if she'd been able to let those tears fall; to a competent and confident girl on the edge of young womanhood helping her friends ... and he chief among them ... do something good. Now, the adult Famh has spoken for herself for all the world to hear; declaring openly what she believes and what she wants, who she loves, and who she intends to spend the remainder of her life with. And the goodness and courtesy in her still remains, and he can still look in the mirror and see the remaining variable ... now a constant ;) ... in those two last equations. He apparently is, was, and always will be who she wants, fairly permanently.
Given all this, it reassures Cainneach but does not too deeply surprise him when his mention of Lady Margie elicits only a brief flash of jealousy in her eyes before the details of her story melts her into sympathy. "Och, poor Lady! I'll have to make friends with the poor girl and find out. Just after I get done getting to know Lady Ailsa a little better. Or at the same time. I'm no sure there's not more to Ailsa than we knew either." This being the limit of her attention span for other subjects as of yet, she softens back towards him. "I'm so sorry I spoiled your surprise, though! That was so sweet of you to think of a token, Alais said bo ... men often don't. And I've had my eyes out for something worthy of the full love I feel for you. The closest I've come sae far is to give you an old hunting trap I picked up shortly after I left Brymstone and ha' been luggin' aboot wi' me ever sin even though I don't ken the first thing about hunting. That didn't seem terribly romantic, though, -- but perhaps that's only me." She laughs and squeezes his shoulder affectionately.
... and then immediately relax. "Famh, look to our brave sergeant over there. Looks like Ori may have an admirer! I'd imagine he can handle himself, popular as he seems to be, but I've never seen a woman that size before."
Famh immediately forgets about making friends with Ladies Margie and Ailsa, at least for the moment. Cainneach imagines her attention will shortly return to business, since they were talking about that subject only moments before, but her fascination is now completely focused on one point in the room as she giggles, "Oh, my. ... ... ... ORI ... !!!"
She instantly slips off her seat. Mistaking his words to mean that he wants her to "look to" Ori in the sense of doing something about him (though she isn't quite sure what he believes she ought to do), she tries to slip a little closer and find out what kind of person his admirer is, discreetly keeping to the shadows so neither of them will see her and feel uncomfortable.
The full goblet of strong northern wine she belted down in one swallow not too long before leads her to suppose ... or rather, imagine ... that there is a statistically significant likelihood of this working out as she planned.
===========================
Stealth (disadvantage, penalty) 1
Famhs had missed it in her state but Cainneach definitely saw Duke Carnasse note Famhs collapse from her seat and then speak with Duke Almeric and Baron Aldred at the High Table but could not see his lips as he had turned to face the other two.
Quote from OisinmacCameron>>She clucks her tongue. "Sic' a pity too. A young lad like ye must ha' at least ane starry-eyed milkmaid waiting ye wi' bated breath at the Dayne manor, now. 'Twould be tragic if ye didn't make it back to her safe and whole ..."" Allowing just enough time for the full implications of that last innuendo to sink in, she caps the whole with a merry laugh.
Thatch blushes red as the implication of Famh’s comment sinks in and he finishes the dance with a twirl for the lady and a deep bow before excusing himself and finding another glass of wine. He is slightly taken aback at the engagement, even if only by the timing and fervor of the announcement, but he claps heartily and raises a glass in toast with the other party goers. As he raises his glass, he sees just the barest hint of movement in the rafters out of the corner of his eye. Frowning, he excuses himself from his immediate company, Constable Bethany, and starts to move toward where Ori was posted against the pillar. Before he could arrive, however, he was surprised to see he was beaten to the Sergeant by another visitor, a large women that appeared to tower over him. Breaking off to give them some space, Thatch is determined to solve this latest mystery on his own and moves around the room to get a better look at the ceiling to see if he can catch another glimpse of movement. Perception: 16.
Thatch moves around and spies a fluttering movement far above and then it was obliterated in a sudden flash of movement as one of the largest cats he had ever seen leap from one rafter to the other and caught the bat in its jaws and swallowed it in one bite.....
She meant to be discreet. She really, truly did mean to be discreet this time.
But ...
Well, there are two buts this time. One, as before ... it's Famh.
But the second; NEVER before has she been trying to be discreet at a time when she was this unequivocally and without possibility of cavil, appeal or do-over ... ... ...
thoroughly, passionately and 1000%%% ...
DRUnK,
. ... !!! The strong northern wine she belted down a full goblet of mere moments before combines with her soaring heart and ... em ... the wine and ... ah ... was I saying something? LOL
And just as she 'casually' drifts out of one shadow into another and comes within easy earshot of the magnificently proportioned Thulshwoman interested in Ori, she happens to turn her head and see Sir Almeric talking with Ailsa in a discreetly shadowed corner as they rest between dances. The sight completely derails her attention, and she immediately calls across in a voice loud enough to still be clearly audible to him over the intervening conversations, "Och, Sir Almeric, could ye thank the good Lady for her kindness to Cainneach and me? Ye know how to put things so much more gracefully than we ever could. And please thank the Duke for us too when ye gae back to the high tabl ..."
Then her hand flies to her mouth as she remembers what she was about at first, and she hastily turns back to the original object of her curiosity. Having missed the initial stages through lack of attentiveness ;>, she has no idea Vardi and Ori have already become acquainted.
"Ah, I'm sae sorry! I don't mean any harm, but o' course I'm oot of me heid this ee'n. I do confess I was comin' over to spy on ye, but it's only because this big fellow is by way of bein' a bit of a friend of ours frae the retinue too so ... now I've gotten distracted and gone and announced myself when I only meant to sneak up on ye, I could introduce you if you'd like. He's a bit shy-like, but he does relax a bit more when there's not this many folk aboot." Her eyes begin to twinkle. "Ori ... I ken ye've had an interesting life. Perhaps the two of ye would find it easier just talking here on the edges, and you could tell her some stories of the things you've seen. Try not to be too modest now, ye have to admit yourself at least a little bit of a hero to have stuck with us all this time. And if 'twasn't for you and that greet shillaleigh ye've got back in the arming chest, we'd never have brought Harald out of Hob's Dell and exposed the traitor. And then we'd never have been here in the first place, so in a sense Cainneach and I owe this chance to celebrate our engagement at least partly to you."
As she starts back to rejoin Cainneach, she whispers to Vardi, "He really is a hero, but his sleeves are pinching him so he's just a wee tad grumpy toneet. But he's got a place at the first honour table twi' all the rest of us, and if ye scratch Sir Mary and Sir Moluag right they baith fart in Thulish just like the rest of us. Come over whenever ye like, and if anybody gives ye trouble tell them they'll make Famh cry and spoil her engagement that the Duke just applauded. And then stick yer tongue oot at 'em and come over anyhow. As I'm finding myself, sometimes ye have to be ladylike to not trouble folk, but other times ye're rewarded better if ye're just the least bit outrageous in the midst of all yer courtesy."
Um ... of course it is to be understood that this is a whisper from Famh, in her current condition --- but reminded by her recent raucous shout to try her VERY BEST to be discreet LOL (Stealth, advantage, penalty increased to -3 12).. (which was the closest way I could figure of simulating a wild surge without actually triggering one)
Regardless of the result of her attempt at concealment, she turns to the nearest guard as if he was new-come on the scene and had heard none of this. "This is a new warm personal childhood friend of mine. Or will be. Is there nae uisgebeatha aboot for a girl to celebrate her engagement wi?! I'd never want to embarrass yer Duke, but I'm fearing I probably already have done to my poor Cainneach right out in the middle of hall about as much as he can bear right now, so he might prefer it too if we slip aside here for a quiet nip every now and again." The total contradiction between this and her invitation to Vardi mere moments before to come over and join them at the table has not yet caught up with her overheated brain.
The guardsman, who was in the process of clearing tables and almost certainly purloining food to take back to those on watch during the feast simply nodded and hastily made his exit...he could be going to fetch some......he was not.
And just as she 'casually' drifts out of one shadow into another and comes within easy earshot of the magnificently proportioned Thulshwoman interested in Ori, she happens to turn her head and see Sir Almeric talking with Ailsa in a discreetly shadowed corner as they rest between dances. The sight completely derails her attention, and she immediately calls across in a voice loud enough to still be clearly audible to him over the intervening conversations, "Och, Sir Almeric, could ye thank the good Lady for her kindness to Cainneach and me? Ye know how to put things so much more gracefully than we ever could. And please thank the Duke for us too when ye gae back to the high tabl .."
Almeric had spent most of the dancing with Ailsa, whilst diplomatically engaging with the other ladies of the court as well. Almeric had spent a similar amount of time talking with Michael earlier, so this time spent with Ailsa may not seem untoward, if one was being polite and generous. Just when he thought the evening was calming down, it was brought to his attention that the Shepherdess might be drunk, as she bellowed across the hall once again. It is then then that Almeric notices Vardi and Famh's indescretion is forgotten.
"By The Saviour! I'll loose my flank unless my Sergeant can hold again that Scythian Shieldmaiden!" Gasps Almeric with comedic effect. "If you had a bodyguard like that, you could travel anywhere in some confidence. If you had a handmaiden like Famh, you never be bored either" chuckles at his own joke.
Having returned to Almeric after he had done the rounds of other family members Ailsa nodded, her mood was friendly but she was slightly more guarded than she had been before....but not overly so.
" The smith? That is Vardi, late from the court of Katorheim, one of the other smiths said she was from the outer isles I believe."
" I've not had much to do with her, but she has a rare talent...at least according to some of the other Islanders here. 'Jotnblud', Gunnar calls her, ridiculous of course , but her father must be truly immense..perhaps her mother too."
" Famhs? A handmaiden? That would never work. Handmaidens are generally not allowed opinions, and those that are would never express them so forcefully.", she giggled slightly.
(Oh boy, I interpreted 'slips off' more as 'slips out of', but the idea of Famh crashing on her bum really takes me back to those halcyon days at university! *facepalm*)
Cainneach half grimaces, half smiles as Famh makes her tour of the hall, empowered by potent wine, and either embarrassing or endearing herself to everyone around her. He does catch the Duke's look upon seeing her on the ground and moves to intercept, but she's a slippery one, with the single-mindedness of one newly acquainted with the joys of being engaged and also very drunk. By the time he catches up with her, she's already had three separate, but mercifully brief, conversations and doesn't seem to have caused too much of a scandal. It was probably fortunate that Almeric had in some measure captured the Lady Ailsa's attention.
Upon reflection, he felt that perhaps he had misjudged Lady Margie's reaction to their engagement, but Cainneach will still keep it in mind that it could be worthwhile for Famh to befriend the Duke's daughter ... tomorrow, when Famh is less FAMH!!!and more herself again. His information on Sir Michael and the Sands, and the merchant rivalries would also seemingly have to wait until tomorrow. He knew the Sands was a boarding house, but little else of it or the area of the city in which it was found. Cainneach would have to inquire with his friends on the best way to discreetly inquire about such things without raising eyebrows. With little need for subtlety or subterfuge during his time in the wilderness, those skills had languished in Cainneach, his only remaining guile laying in the wisdom of survival.
For now, the best course of action seemed to be to guide his bride-to-be away from the remaining genteel folk in the hall and all remaining sources of alcohol. Everyone else seemed to be faring well enough and Famh's continued presence posed a risk to the retinue's reputation, albeit a very entertaining one. Just as it seems something else might be caught in her shrinking span of attention, Cainneach gently wraps one arm around Famh's waist and redirects her toward their table. "Oh, there you are my dear! I hope your mission was successful. I was thinking very hard about that hunting trap you mentioned. I've always wondered why you carried it with you, so I'm glad to now know, but I do agree it's not the most romantic thing. Why don't we head off this way and we can tell each other all the most romantic things we can think of. I'll start ... once you're my wife, I'd massage your feet every night until you fell asleep." * Imagining that she'd almost certainly giggle before whatever she responds with, Cainneach catches her as Famh stumbles, then guides her toward the exit of the hall. On the way out, Cainneach catches a glimpse of Thatch staring at the ceiling. Unable to help himself, he calls over to his friend, "I don't think there are any more pretty girls up there, Thatch. You've already found them all!"
What was that look about, Ori wondered as Vardi made her comment. Before pressing on the subject, Famh comes over. Well Ori hadn't scared the lass off, though by the look of her she might be a hard one to scare, but Famh had a different kind of way to scare people off. Ori figured if he understood half of what she said he too might be a bit more wary of her, but to him, she was just full of surprises Famh.
"Are you my personal bodyguard now?"
"That's not exactly how I remember Hobs"
After Famh starts to walk away Ori points at her with his cup in hand. "I see you made a new friend, I think? I'm not quite sure with her." Shifting his weight a bit on the pillar. "Well we survived our first test and it looks like we past, the pillar still stands." Realizing he never got to ask about Vardi's comment before he dives bavj into it. "So this cure all for sea curses, which part do you suppose is the best method of being rid of it; the ridiculous spread and the wine, the upbeat tempo dance party, perhaps it's this puffy highcollard hogwashed outfit I got myself strung up in."
Vardi breaks off her comment and appears to be utterly confused by the joyful whirlwind that is Famh spinning words about her ears faster than a weatherwise spider can spin thread before a gale rises. Still, even a high-tide torrent of speech can be navigated with care, and she does her best to follow the rapid-fire delivery of the fiercely happy lady's words to understand their meaning.
Famh: "Ah, I'm sae sorry! I don't mean any harm, but o' course I'm oot of me heid this ee'n. I do confess I was comin' over to spy on ye, but it's only because this big fellow is by way of bein' a bit of a friend of ours frae the retinue too so ... now I've gotten distracted and gone and announced myself when I only meant to sneak up on ye, I could introduce you if you'd like. He's a bit shy-like, but he does relax a bit more when there's not this many folk aboot."
The big lass answers softly for all her size "That is most kind of you, Mistress." then sneaks a questioning sideways look to Ori even as she keeps a polite smile on her face, not wishing to be disrespectful to the high-table guests, but also fighting off a terrible urge to giggle at her situation.
Ori: "Are you my personal bodyguard now?"
Famh: "Ori ... I ken ye've had an interesting life. Perhaps the two of ye would find it easier just talking here on the edges, and you could tell her some stories of the things you've seen. Try not to be too modest now, ye have to admit yourself at least a little bit of a hero to have stuck with us all this time. And if 'twasn't for you and that greet shillaleigh ye've got back in the arming chest, we'd never have brought Harald out of Hob's Dell and exposed the traitor. And then we'd never have been here in the first place, so in a sense Cainneach and I owe this chance to celebrate our engagement at least partly to you."
The giantess listens and regards the herculean gentleman beside her with even greater respect than she did before (An impressive feat, given her previous fascination!).
Ori: "That's not exactly how I remember Hobs"
A high-table hero, and a modest one at that! Oh Wotan's beard and balls, what have I got myself into this time... Vardi thinks as her hand goes to her mouth in mortification at her forwardness.
Famh (Whispered): "He really is a hero, but his sleeves are pinching him so he's just a wee tad grumpy toneet. But he's got a place at the first honour table twi' all the rest of us, and if ye scratch Sir Mary and Sir Moluag right they baith fart in Thulish just like the rest of us. Come over whenever ye like, and if anybody gives ye trouble tell them they'll make Famh cry and spoil her engagement that the Duke just applauded. And then stick yer tongue oot at 'em and come over anyhow. As I'm finding myself, sometimes ye have to be ladylike to not trouble folk, but other times ye're rewarded better if ye're just the least bit outrageous in the midst of all yer courtesy."
Vardi whispers back, a broad and honest smile on her face as she realizes that this is no stuffed shirt of a man, nor a highborn airs and graces lady that she is socializing with here "Thank ye for ye kind words, Mistress Famh. I will keep them well in mind." then adds in a louder voice "My congratulations to ye and yer fine gentleman, and may the high ones smile upon ye both."
Ori: "I see you made a new friend, I think? I'm not quite sure with her."
The giantess, smiling murmurs "You may be right there. She's a whirlwind all right, but a happy one, and thas nay bad thing."
Ori: "Well we survived our first test and it looks like we past, the pillar still stands."
"Aye..."the biglass says, glancing up at it in comic relief, but puzzled by a faint noise from the rafters.
Ori: "So this cure all for sea curses, which part do you suppose is the best method of being rid of it; the ridiculous spread and the wine, the upbeat tempo dance party, perhaps it's this puffy highcollard hogwashed outfit I got myself strung up in."
Vardi looks blank for a moment, then smiles as she remembers and explains "Far simpler than any of those! Nay ser, tha best cure for sea sickness is ta stand under a tree, and that pillar is most of one right there."
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Cainneach was apparently too caught up in the whirling about, the cacophony of singing, instruments, and the chatter of the crowd, his affection for the highland girl, and his own moderate consumption to notice that Famh might have swung past a mellow buzz into a far more volatile state of invigoration. He should have seen it, with all the blushes she'd inflicted upon him previously, should have seen that something was coming. Yet even if he had, it was unlikely Cainneach would have anticipated the magnitude of her public exclamation.
"So we might as well get all the embarrassment in that regard out of the way all at once."
"Oh no, Famh, what are you doing ..." It was too late that Cainneach realized that this utterance was never going to be voiced loudly enough to dissuade Famh from going ahead with the proclamation to the room. Artfully made, and at least respectful to the god that many of these people likely revered and to the Duke himself, but mortifying to Cainneach nonetheless. Wasn't this what he wanted? Just not like this. Not in front of all these people he did not know. People who mattered in a much larger sense to what will happen to the people of Ellesland than either he or Famh, even if their role in what was to come were a hundred times greater.
Cainneach's eyes, which should have been fixed on Famh during this momentous declaration, darted from her to the Duke, to the Baron, Almeric, Lady Ailsa. He could only imagine the look that Ori was giving him, as he couldn't reasonably pivot to where the burly and surly man had retreated. It was possible that the lighting from the chandeliers and candles on the table might have disguised the blush on his cheeks, but it wasn't likely. As Famh raised her glass, Cainneach mechanically fumbled for his as well, raising it to meet her salute with a smile and a nod. He took a sip as well, pondering what this sudden betrothal would mean for them in practical terms and bracing for whatever would follow from his new fiancee. With the conclusion rapidly nearing, it was time to decide what response would be most appropriate given the circumstances.
Insight 21 (how much did Famh screw up?)
Persuasion 20 (trying to play it cool, unruffle any feathers out there)
The chivalrous thing to do is to support Famh, for he does love her after all, so fleeing the scene or chastening her for her inebriation won't do. Speaking of chivalry, it would likely be untoward, even with this rougher Thulish nobility, to sweep Famh away with a wink and a laugh and carry her out of the hall. It also wouldn't do to expose the Baron to any further embarrassment, so let's just middle it. Cainneach puts on a big smile, trying to appear flattered and also conciliatory to the hosts for the interruption. He gently pulls Famh to him, takes her head gently in both hands, and kisses her on the lips before raising his glass to the crowd and yelling, "Hear hear, I couldn't imagine a grander hall and more gracious hosts for this thoroughly unexpected, yet entirely earnest proclamation! Please, another song so that we might continue the revels!" His empty hand slides to Famh's and he entwines his fingers in hers. He sits down, pulling her downward to her seat as well. Cainneach shakes his head with a wondering smile. "What have you done, my wild woman? I do love you, but you've got to stop surprising me like this, it'll put me in an early grave! There's no need to rush things, we'll have all the time we need. Let's just hope the fallout from this is not too severe." After a pause to once again survey the response in the room, he grips her hand tightly, leans in close, and says, "Now come, m'eudail, I believe I owe you at least one more dance this evening!"
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Almeric took the first dance with Ailsa and maybe a few more. After a discrete time, the Capellar offered dances to each of Ailsa's sister's and even the Duchess herself, careful to maintain proper decorum at all times. This would be seen by most as polite and courteous diplomacy, with absolutely no licentious intent. Almeric does intent to spend most of the rest of the evening with Ailsa. He wants to thank her profoundly for her generosity and kindness towards Fahm. in particular, as well as opening himself up to any other 'opportunities'. His mind explored the many possible futures before him. How could a penniless, landless knight like him ever hope to attract the daughter of a Duke? She would be marrying beneath her station, unless he could gain land, influence, rank and wealth. Besides, the Capellar Oath, which he was due to take next year, required a life-long commitment of chastity. Sir Ambrose Blayk, one of Aldred's household knights, had trodden this path before him. He had been a Capellar, had retired, married and fathered a son in Master Blaise Blayk. Ambrose had seemingly achieving all these things, so surely Almeric could too?
Almeric had been enjoying the entertainment as the evening progressed. The musicians, the dancing, the jugglers and fools, together with the wine and ale produced a heady mix of celebration and relaxation. Even in the midst of the banquette, he and the Retinue were working. Fahm and Cainneach were providing an obvious distraction, even if they didn't intent to, drawing the attention of many away from the Duke and Baron's conversations. Thatch was dancing will the exuberance of youth, and was totally disarming. Ori was 'standing post', another distraction if less obvious. The less observant might think themselves clever to spot him, leaning on a post to one side and watching everyone else. Almeric had created his own distraction by dancing with Ailsa most of the time. In an unspoken and unthinking act of team work, each member had enabled Fergus and Tana to work from the shadows, gathering vital information without being noticed themselves.
Eveything seemed to be progressing well...
At Famh and Cainneachs betrothal announcement there was scattered uncertain applause which rose to far greater heights when Duchess Carnasse began to clap followed by the Duke and then the rest of the High Table. Baron Aldred looked momentarily nonplussed shooting Almeric a most curious glance before applauding himself.
Dancing continued along with whispered conversations and other dealings,
Sir Almeric-
In your conversations with Lady Ailsa you are somewhat struck by her most definite discomfort at your thanks but it becomes clear at a later point after dancing with the Duchess, while being regarded most carefully by Duke Carnasse, when Lady Ailsa confides why. She is the last born of the Dukes children and her mother did not long survive her birth, it is for this reason that she goes out of her way to make herself of maximum use and minimum fuss to the household.....Almeric can determine this is mostly out of guilt but he also senses there is lingering and unresolved tension between Ailsa and her father. His dance with Lady Margie consisted mostly of her making somewhat sly remarks regarding his obvious interest in her younger sister and making eyes at someone in the crowd that Almeric could never quite pick out. Lady Florie, the eldest, danced with him maintaining the utmost decorum and released him almost immediately at the reels conclusion with a gracious smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Michael was dancing, badly, with not only his sisters but a number of household members who did their best to keep him on an even keel. Duke Carnasse and baron Aldred spent the dances in quiet conversation.
Cainneach/Famh-
The betrothal announcement seemed to go over rather well and Cainneachs keen eyes noted a pang of deep jealousy from Lady Margie as Famh spoke. Duke Carnasse and Baron Aldreds approval sealed the deal and there would be no way of backing out of such a publically declared and approved pairing even is they had wanted to...which they obviously did not. Both Famh and Cainneach watched Thatch get passed around during the dancing and his stable earned light footwork seemed to meet with the approval of many. Ori could barely be seen up against a pillar as he was though it was apparent someone was watching him as well, a tall....very tall...figure seated at one of the wall tables in shadow.
Between dances Thatch was engaged by Sir Mary and Sir Moluag regarding his expertise in horse husbandry and the difficulties of adapting southern horses to the harsh Thuland winters.
Thatch-
During his dances he interacted with Bethany, the Constable of Sewark Keep who was greatly interested in his stable experience with both the Dayne and Aldred Households and Duke Carnasses Valet of Chambers a silver haired Chaubrettan with a sparkle in his eye and perhaps a little too much wine under his belt. He also danced with a parcel of the senior maids who all complimented him on his grooming and impeccable steps. It was when Famh and Cainneach made their sudden impromptu announcement that he, for a moment, imagined he saw something small and quick move on the beams high up in the vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall....and then it was gone.
Ori watched everything carefully, his stomach settling somewhat when he stood-
The dance was interesting, as much a performance as anything he had done as part of the travelling shows......everyone was wearing masks....though were better at keeping tham on than others. As he watched he saw Love, Pain, Grief, Jealousy, Longing all play their part....Duke Carnasses son was not as inebrieted as he pretended and was intentionally picking his way towards the far wall where someone stood in the shadows concealed, both of the Thulish Knights were watching Lady Margie though the concern on both their faces had different origins and the Duchess.....she had evidently found who she was looking for...an elderly richly dressed man stood at the rear of the hall with a most sour expression on his face...the Duchesses expression as she regarded him was almost triumphant.
As Ori watched he felt eyes upon his own back but when he turned there was no one there.
The evening began to wind down and jugglers, entertainers and storytellers roamed the Hall as people broke into small groups and retreated to tables to nurse their tired feet and enjoy a final drink.
Fergus and Tana continued to circulate.....
Cainneach is immensely relieved that Famh's impetuous declaration of her undying love for him had not semeed to have cost the party any measure of esteem, or to have complicated the Baron's delicate negotations. He was, however, a little concerned by the look of jealousy on Lady Margie's face, coupled with the odd story he'd heard of her earlier in the evening.
Perception 18 (trying to determine the target of Lady Margie's jealousy and if she exhibits any fey characteristics - that's the main thing Cainneach associates w/magic, can alternatively roll Arcana +1)
Insight 14 (trying to determine if her feeling portends any malicious actions)
The large figure in the shadows keeping an eye on their sergeant was also of concern. What should have been a happy occasion for many reasons is starting to have an ominous air.
Perception 12 (looking for more detail on the individual observing Ori)
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Almeric listens with empathy and care to Ailsa's story of grief. It was indeed an honour for such sensitive and personal details to be shared about such a tragedy. The tragedy of a husband loosing his wife in childbirth was bad enough. The double tragedy of the father not being able to take solace and pride in the life of this new born daughter must have been interminable for father, daughter and all those observing. Years of healing had not had the desired effect on the father. Perhaps some time apart would aid the healing?
"Do you have any family or friends you can stay with? Perhaps lady, some time away from your father may make his heart grow fonder? I'm sure as soon as the Duchess is blessed with child, all will be forgotten in the joyous celebrations." Almeric is trying to be a friend to Ailsa, as she was a friend to Fahm. Leaving the lady in thought, Almeric moves around the Head Tables from the side, walking behind the two principles and kneeling between their chairs, in order to speak with them privately.
"Apologies my Lords, I fear there was none more surprised than the Groom to hear that nuptial announcement." chuckles Almeric. "Rest assured, enemies have under-estimated our strength in the past, unable to measure what they cannot see, for and as you know, it is what you can't see that kills you. If there is some small service I can do for you, your Grace, to demonstrate the true value of the Retinue, I will gladly do it." Aldred is well aware of the tactical advantage of the Dayne Retinue.
Cainneach and Famh twirl their way through the crowd a few more times, more relaxed and flowing now that their respective burdens had been relieved. These were 1) Famh's desire to have their betrothal proverbially etched in stone by having it witnessed by the two most important people, by rank of birth, in their lives at the moment, and 2) Cainneach's concern that Famh's unbridled exuberance may have cost the Baron and, by extension, their retinue dearly. Fortunately, love conquers all, as they say, and now they could fully revel in their young love without too much fear of judgement.
That being said, there was yet a little fear, at least in Cainneach's mind, of Lady Margie. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned (at least I assume that remains true in Ellesland), and the look of jealousy in her eyes during Famh's performance was of some concern. Cainneach had sought to identify any individual the Lady may have been seeking out in that moment, and tried to take a closer look at her as well. Or was she perhaps aiming venom at Famh?
After enjoying Thatch and Almeric's performances on the dance floor, another dance of their own, and too many congratulations on their engagement, Cainneach drew Famh back to their table. After checking to see that no one appears to be eavesdropping, he takes Famh's hands in his and says to her, "Oh, leannan! What a marvel you are! I don't know if I can ever learn to trust my emotions as you trust yours, but I should know by now to trust you! I'm sorry for being so worried earlier, everything seems to be turning out so well. I do have a token for you, a sign of our bond, but I dinnae have it with me here. I'd planned to give it to you soon, hopefully in some wild, sacred place far from the crowds of these cities, but I suppose that's not what the gods had in mind for you and I." He lifts her hands to his lips and kisses them gently. "Could I ask you something about the crowd here, though ... Have you found anything about the Lady Margie odd? She seemed stricken while you spoke, perhaps spurned by another? I also heard a rumour that she had appeared out of nowhere in her bedchambers, badly scaring one of her attendants. Do you think she may be favoured by the fey and their glamours, as you are? I tried to get a better look, but it was difficult to see. There were other tales as well, but I think Almeric and Thatch might have heard more on those."
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It is a splendid feast... Thinks Vardi to herself ...Fine food, and plenty of it, music and dancing and so many merry people in such interesting attire. If only I did not have to finish that last piece tomorrow morning, and with a clear head too... then sighs.
Morag who she thinks of as Sharp-Tongue, the deft-handed lady who makes the small fittings for Master Gregor, whose eye is as sharp as her tongue sits next to her among the side tables and prods her in the elbow with a finger, as it is closer than Vardi's shoulder. Perhaps bolder than usual with a drink or three in her, the dark-haired woman cackles at the quiet blonde girl "Oh get on woman, ye bin staring at the big fella since the music started! Ask him ta dance, ya daftie girl. What ye frit of? Tis only dancin'!"
"Look after my basket then, Morag. One dance, assuming they even accept, and then I must get home." Vardi says after a moment, takes her courage in her hands as she stands up, ducking her head out of wariness forged by more than a year of living with doors too short and rafters too low and walks as demurely as she can in the soft grey felt slippers that still pinch a little in their newness onwards to the watchful man leaning up against the wooden pillar.
Nervous at her daring, yet too far now to go back and face Morag's teasing if she does not at least ask, and unsure as to what tongue she should ask in, Vardi tries not to loom over the man as she silently smiles, and makes an awkward curtsey to him. Feeling the blush creeping up her face already, she offers him her hand, looks towards the now less crowded dance floor, then back to him, a question in her eyes.
Looking over Famh's shoulder, Cainneach notes the massive seated figure speaking with her companion, then stand and move toward Ori. He's immediately on alert and Famh feels Cainneach's grip on her hands tighten slightly and sees his eyes narrow.
Insight 14
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... and then immediately relax. "Famh, look to our brave sergeant over there. Looks like Ori may have an admirer! I'd imagine he can handle himself, popular as he seems to be, but I've never seen a woman that size before."
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Ori, a bit shocked, as the towering woman walked up to him. Ori always considered himself to be a big man, but truth was he was a slightly average height at best. He had a massive chest and arms, smaller then in his performing days but still larger then others he had met. Looking up and seeing the nood to the dance floor, Ori's stomach dropped. She was the first to dare ask him out there tonight, he wasn't a bad dancer, he just like to move through the crowds as he went. Normally in a event he is the one getting people to the floor, spending more time convincing others then actually dancing himself. But the queen of the sea still seems to have her grasp on him, no rythum, no urge to move about, he still didn't dare drink the wine in the cup he was holding. He almost shooed her away, which was his plan if anyone asked him, but he had been feeling eyes on him since moving away from the tables and suspected it took a bit of encouragement for her to approach him. Well the least he could do was to be civil. Hearing Fahm's declaration earlier did make Ori crack a smile so he knew he could still. "You look like your about as accustomed to doing that as I am in this blasted gitup." (Referring to the awkward curtsey) He pulls at his collor. "I like to think this blasted garb they wrapped me up in that is keeping most at bay from this post, but I suppose it more likely the sourness the sea left me working its magic. I don't think I have it in me to do more then keep this post from falling over. You are more then welcome to assist in the task if you wish. In a day or two I'm sure I'd be up for sweeping you around the dance floor but I have a feeling this feast will be over by then. Would ya accept a raincheck for place with a bit more class, perhaps with a few broken chairs and tables?" He stretches his hand out. "Ori."
The massive eruption by which she publicly declared her love for him, coupled ;) with the courteous and friendly reception it has received, has certainly put Famh more at her ease than he can remember having seen her before. But as he thinks over the whirlwind days and weeks leading up to this moment, Cainneach realizes more and more how major this moment is in his beloved's life. In the rescue of Tusk (and a few events immediately preceding thereof) he saw Famh grow from a lost, teary eyed child with a mute look of incomprehension on her face as the world buffets her about that makes her misery far more unbearable to watch than if she'd been able to let those tears fall; to a competent and confident girl on the edge of young womanhood helping her friends ... and he chief among them ... do something good. Now, the adult Famh has spoken for herself for all the world to hear; declaring openly what she believes and what she wants, who she loves, and who she intends to spend the remainder of her life with. And the goodness and courtesy in her still remains, and he can still look in the mirror and see the remaining variable ... now a constant ;) ... in those two last equations. He apparently is, was, and always will be who she wants, fairly permanently.
Given all this, it reassures Cainneach but does not too deeply surprise him when his mention of Lady Margie elicits only a brief flash of jealousy in her eyes before the details of her story melts her into sympathy. "Och, poor Lady! I'll have to make friends with the poor girl and find out. Just after I get done getting to know Lady Ailsa a little better. Or at the same time. I'm no sure there's not more to Ailsa than we knew either." This being the limit of her attention span for other subjects as of yet, she softens back towards him. "I'm so sorry I spoiled your surprise, though! That was so sweet of you to think of a token, Alais said bo ... men often don't. And I've had my eyes out for something worthy of the full love I feel for you. The closest I've come sae far is to give you an old hunting trap I picked up shortly after I left Brymstone and ha' been luggin' aboot wi' me ever sin even though I don't ken the first thing about hunting. That didn't seem terribly romantic, though, -- but perhaps that's only me." She laughs and squeezes his shoulder affectionately.
Famh immediately forgets about making friends with Ladies Margie and Ailsa, at least for the moment. Cainneach imagines her attention will shortly return to business, since they were talking about that subject only moments before, but her fascination is now completely focused on one point in the room as she giggles, "Oh, my. ... ... ... ORI ... !!!"
She instantly slips off her seat. Mistaking his words to mean that he wants her to "look to" Ori in the sense of doing something about him (though she isn't quite sure what he believes she ought to do), she tries to slip a little closer and find out what kind of person his admirer is, discreetly keeping to the shadows so neither of them will see her and feel uncomfortable.
The full goblet of strong northern wine she belted down in one swallow not too long before leads her to suppose ... or rather, imagine ... that there is a statistically significant likelihood of this working out as she planned.
===========================
Stealth (disadvantage, penalty) 1
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Thatch blushes red as the implication of Famh’s comment sinks in and he finishes the dance with a twirl for the lady and a deep bow before excusing himself and finding another glass of wine. He is slightly taken aback at the engagement, even if only by the timing and fervor of the announcement, but he claps heartily and raises a glass in toast with the other party goers. As he raises his glass, he sees just the barest hint of movement in the rafters out of the corner of his eye. Frowning, he excuses himself from his immediate company, Constable Bethany, and starts to move toward where Ori was posted against the pillar. Before he could arrive, however, he was surprised to see he was beaten to the Sergeant by another visitor, a large women that appeared to tower over him. Breaking off to give them some space, Thatch is determined to solve this latest mystery on his own and moves around the room to get a better look at the ceiling to see if he can catch another glimpse of movement. Perception: 16.
.
Vardi, acutely aware that she is probably attracting more attention to herself than might be considered polite among the gentlefolk, nonetheless stays put and smiles at Ori's comments about uncomfortably new clothes. When he explains his reasons for declining, her face clouds a little in disappointment, but she is sympathetic in tone when she replies "If yer feet are still walking on rollin' deck, then I can see now tha' it would be difficult for ye ta dance on land for now."
"I would be most happy to watch the festivities from here with ye for a little while." the giantess says with a grateful smile, her complexion a little grey herself in the feast hall's flickering torch light as she nervously twists the end of one wheat-straw blonde plait between her fingers, then confides "Furniture out here away from home seems ta be a bit on tha' fragile side for me as it is." then takes his proffered hand with a surprisingly gentle grip as she offers "I am Vardi." in return.
"You are wise indeed to have found the closest thing to the cure for sea-sickness here Ori..." she adds, a spark of mischief in her faded cornflower eyes as she glances up at the support post.
She meant to be discreet. She really, truly did mean to be discreet this time.
But ...
Well, there are two buts this time.
One, as before ... it's Famh.
But the second; NEVER before has she been trying to be discreet at a time when she was this unequivocally
and without possibility of cavil, appeal or do-over
... ... ...
thoroughly, passionately and 1000%%% ...
DRUnK,
.
... !!! The strong northern wine she belted down a full goblet of mere moments before combines with her soaring heart and ... em ... the wine and ... ah ... was I saying something? LOL
And just as she 'casually' drifts out of one shadow into another and comes within easy earshot of the magnificently proportioned Thulshwoman interested in Ori, she happens to turn her head and see Sir Almeric talking with Ailsa in a discreetly shadowed corner as they rest between dances. The sight completely derails her attention, and she immediately calls across in a voice loud enough to still be clearly audible to him over the intervening conversations, "Och, Sir Almeric, could ye thank the good Lady for her kindness to Cainneach and me? Ye know how to put things so much more gracefully than we ever could. And please thank the Duke for us too when ye gae back to the high tabl ..."
Then her hand flies to her mouth as she remembers what she was about at first, and she hastily turns back to the original object of her curiosity. Having missed the initial stages through lack of attentiveness ;>, she has no idea Vardi and Ori have already become acquainted.
"Ah, I'm sae sorry! I don't mean any harm, but o' course I'm oot of me heid this ee'n. I do confess I was comin' over to spy on ye, but it's only because this big fellow is by way of bein' a bit of a friend of ours frae the retinue too so ... now I've gotten distracted and gone and announced myself when I only meant to sneak up on ye, I could introduce you if you'd like. He's a bit shy-like, but he does relax a bit more when there's not this many folk aboot." Her eyes begin to twinkle. "Ori ... I ken ye've had an interesting life. Perhaps the two of ye would find it easier just talking here on the edges, and you could tell her some stories of the things you've seen. Try not to be too modest now, ye have to admit yourself at least a little bit of a hero to have stuck with us all this time. And if 'twasn't for you and that greet shillaleigh ye've got back in the arming chest, we'd never have brought Harald out of Hob's Dell and exposed the traitor. And then we'd never have been here in the first place, so in a sense Cainneach and I owe this chance to celebrate our engagement at least partly to you."
As she starts back to rejoin Cainneach, she whispers to Vardi, "He really is a hero, but his sleeves are pinching him so he's just a wee tad grumpy toneet. But he's got a place at the first honour table twi' all the rest of us, and if ye scratch Sir Mary and Sir Moluag right they baith fart in Thulish just like the rest of us. Come over whenever ye like, and if anybody gives ye trouble tell them they'll make Famh cry and spoil her engagement that the Duke just applauded. And then stick yer tongue oot at 'em and come over anyhow. As I'm finding myself, sometimes ye have to be ladylike to not trouble folk, but other times ye're rewarded better if ye're just the least bit outrageous in the midst of all yer courtesy."
Um ... of course it is to be understood that this is a whisper from Famh, in her current condition --- but reminded by her recent raucous shout to try her VERY BEST to be discreet LOL (Stealth, advantage, penalty increased to -3 8).. (which was the closest way I could figure of simulating a wild surge without actually triggering one)
Regardless of the result of her attempt at concealment, she turns to the nearest guard as if he was new-come on the scene and had heard none of this. "This is a new warm personal childhood friend of mine. Or will be. Is there nae uisgebeatha aboot for a girl to celebrate her engagement wi?! I'd never want to embarrass yer Duke, but I'm fearing I probably already have done to my poor Cainneach right out in the middle of hall about as much as he can bear right now, so he might prefer it too if we slip aside here for a quiet nip every now and again." The total contradiction between this and her invitation to Vardi mere moments before to come over and join them at the table has not yet caught up with her overheated brain.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Almeric had spent most of the dancing with Ailsa, whilst diplomatically engaging with the other ladies of the court as well. Almeric had spent a similar amount of time talking with Michael earlier, so this time spent with Ailsa may not seem untoward, if one was being polite and generous. Just when he thought the evening was calming down, it was brought to his attention that the Shepherdess might be drunk, as she bellowed across the hall once again. It is then then that Almeric notices Vardi and Famh's indescretion is forgotten.
"By The Saviour! I'll loose my flank unless my Sergeant can hold again that Scythian Shieldmaiden!" Gasps Almeric with comedic effect. "If you had a bodyguard like that, you could travel anywhere in some confidence. If you had a handmaiden like Famh, you never be bored either" chuckles at his own joke.
" The Duchess.....blessed with child.....", Lady Ailsa held a hand up to her mouth and suppressed a laugh. " That would be a miracle indeed...."
But then she seemed to remember herself and smoothed down her dress as her face regained its composure, her eyes went hard as flint.
" Forgive me, I have spoken out of turn. That is family business and you are not family."
Her expression softened for a brief moment as she turned away.
"......yet."
Later....
Duke Carnasse met Almerics eyes with a smile, as Famhs rear impacted the floor after missing her seat, " Well hidden then?"
He caught Baron Aldreds eye and registered the quick nod, " I may have a task for you, if it won't interfere with your safeguarding of your Lord."
" But we'll talk tomorrow."
Cainneach thought more on the glance he had seen....there had been something almost....wistful...about it.
Famhs had missed it in her state but Cainneach definitely saw Duke Carnasse note Famhs collapse from her seat and then speak with Duke Almeric and Baron Aldred at the High Table but could not see his lips as he had turned to face the other two.
Thatch moves around and spies a fluttering movement far above and then it was obliterated in a sudden flash of movement as one of the largest cats he had ever seen leap from one rafter to the other and caught the bat in its jaws and swallowed it in one bite.....
The guardsman, who was in the process of clearing tables and almost certainly purloining food to take back to those on watch during the feast simply nodded and hastily made his exit...he could be going to fetch some......he was not.
Having returned to Almeric after he had done the rounds of other family members Ailsa nodded, her mood was friendly but she was slightly more guarded than she had been before....but not overly so.
" The smith? That is Vardi, late from the court of Katorheim, one of the other smiths said she was from the outer isles I believe."
" I've not had much to do with her, but she has a rare talent...at least according to some of the other Islanders here. 'Jotnblud', Gunnar calls her, ridiculous of course , but her father must be truly immense..perhaps her mother too."
" Famhs? A handmaiden? That would never work. Handmaidens are generally not allowed opinions, and those that are would never express them so forcefully.", she giggled slightly.
(Oh boy, I interpreted 'slips off' more as 'slips out of', but the idea of Famh crashing on her bum really takes me back to those halcyon days at university! *facepalm*)
Cainneach half grimaces, half smiles as Famh makes her tour of the hall, empowered by potent wine, and either embarrassing or endearing herself to everyone around her. He does catch the Duke's look upon seeing her on the ground and moves to intercept, but she's a slippery one, with the single-mindedness of one newly acquainted with the joys of being engaged and also very drunk. By the time he catches up with her, she's already had three separate, but mercifully brief, conversations and doesn't seem to have caused too much of a scandal. It was probably fortunate that Almeric had in some measure captured the Lady Ailsa's attention.
Upon reflection, he felt that perhaps he had misjudged Lady Margie's reaction to their engagement, but Cainneach will still keep it in mind that it could be worthwhile for Famh to befriend the Duke's daughter ... tomorrow, when Famh is less FAMH!!! and more herself again. His information on Sir Michael and the Sands, and the merchant rivalries would also seemingly have to wait until tomorrow. He knew the Sands was a boarding house, but little else of it or the area of the city in which it was found. Cainneach would have to inquire with his friends on the best way to discreetly inquire about such things without raising eyebrows. With little need for subtlety or subterfuge during his time in the wilderness, those skills had languished in Cainneach, his only remaining guile laying in the wisdom of survival.
For now, the best course of action seemed to be to guide his bride-to-be away from the remaining genteel folk in the hall and all remaining sources of alcohol. Everyone else seemed to be faring well enough and Famh's continued presence posed a risk to the retinue's reputation, albeit a very entertaining one. Just as it seems something else might be caught in her shrinking span of attention, Cainneach gently wraps one arm around Famh's waist and redirects her toward their table. "Oh, there you are my dear! I hope your mission was successful. I was thinking very hard about that hunting trap you mentioned. I've always wondered why you carried it with you, so I'm glad to now know, but I do agree it's not the most romantic thing. Why don't we head off this way and we can tell each other all the most romantic things we can think of. I'll start ... once you're my wife, I'd massage your feet every night until you fell asleep." * Imagining that she'd almost certainly giggle before whatever she responds with, Cainneach catches her as Famh stumbles, then guides her toward the exit of the hall. On the way out, Cainneach catches a glimpse of Thatch staring at the ceiling. Unable to help himself, he calls over to his friend, "I don't think there are any more pretty girls up there, Thatch. You've already found them all!"
* - Courtesy of Super Troopers ;-) https://getyarn.io/yarn-clip/9580cdb7-7721-435c-8cb7-f7fc0ce9ff6d
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(um ... I never meant that Famh FELL from her seat, only that she slipped OFF it to get up. I'd seen the wine as more hitting en route)
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
What was that look about, Ori wondered as Vardi made her comment. Before pressing on the subject, Famh comes over. Well Ori hadn't scared the lass off, though by the look of her she might be a hard one to scare, but Famh had a different kind of way to scare people off. Ori figured if he understood half of what she said he too might be a bit more wary of her, but to him, she was just full of surprises Famh.
"Are you my personal bodyguard now?"
"That's not exactly how I remember Hobs"
After Famh starts to walk away Ori points at her with his cup in hand. "I see you made a new friend, I think? I'm not quite sure with her." Shifting his weight a bit on the pillar. "Well we survived our first test and it looks like we past, the pillar still stands." Realizing he never got to ask about Vardi's comment before he dives bavj into it. "So this cure all for sea curses, which part do you suppose is the best method of being rid of it; the ridiculous spread and the wine, the upbeat tempo dance party, perhaps it's this puffy highcollard hogwashed outfit I got myself strung up in."
Vardi breaks off her comment and appears to be utterly confused by the joyful whirlwind that is Famh spinning words about her ears faster than a weatherwise spider can spin thread before a gale rises. Still, even a high-tide torrent of speech can be navigated with care, and she does her best to follow the rapid-fire delivery of the fiercely happy lady's words to understand their meaning.
Famh: "Ah, I'm sae sorry! I don't mean any harm, but o' course I'm oot of me heid this ee'n. I do confess I was comin' over to spy on ye, but it's only because this big fellow is by way of bein' a bit of a friend of ours frae the retinue too so ... now I've gotten distracted and gone and announced myself when I only meant to sneak up on ye, I could introduce you if you'd like. He's a bit shy-like, but he does relax a bit more when there's not this many folk aboot."
The big lass answers softly for all her size "That is most kind of you, Mistress." then sneaks a questioning sideways look to Ori even as she keeps a polite smile on her face, not wishing to be disrespectful to the high-table guests, but also fighting off a terrible urge to giggle at her situation.
Ori: "Are you my personal bodyguard now?"
Famh: "Ori ... I ken ye've had an interesting life. Perhaps the two of ye would find it easier just talking here on the edges, and you could tell her some stories of the things you've seen. Try not to be too modest now, ye have to admit yourself at least a little bit of a hero to have stuck with us all this time. And if 'twasn't for you and that greet shillaleigh ye've got back in the arming chest, we'd never have brought Harald out of Hob's Dell and exposed the traitor. And then we'd never have been here in the first place, so in a sense Cainneach and I owe this chance to celebrate our engagement at least partly to you."
The giantess listens and regards the herculean gentleman beside her with even greater respect than she did before (An impressive feat, given her previous fascination!).
Ori: "That's not exactly how I remember Hobs"
A high-table hero, and a modest one at that! Oh Wotan's beard and balls, what have I got myself into this time... Vardi thinks as her hand goes to her mouth in mortification at her forwardness.
Famh (Whispered): "He really is a hero, but his sleeves are pinching him so he's just a wee tad grumpy toneet. But he's got a place at the first honour table twi' all the rest of us, and if ye scratch Sir Mary and Sir Moluag right they baith fart in Thulish just like the rest of us. Come over whenever ye like, and if anybody gives ye trouble tell them they'll make Famh cry and spoil her engagement that the Duke just applauded. And then stick yer tongue oot at 'em and come over anyhow. As I'm finding myself, sometimes ye have to be ladylike to not trouble folk, but other times ye're rewarded better if ye're just the least bit outrageous in the midst of all yer courtesy."
Vardi whispers back, a broad and honest smile on her face as she realizes that this is no stuffed shirt of a man, nor a highborn airs and graces lady that she is socializing with here "Thank ye for ye kind words, Mistress Famh. I will keep them well in mind." then adds in a louder voice "My congratulations to ye and yer fine gentleman, and may the high ones smile upon ye both."
Ori: "I see you made a new friend, I think? I'm not quite sure with her."
The giantess, smiling murmurs "You may be right there. She's a whirlwind all right, but a happy one, and thas nay bad thing."
Ori: "Well we survived our first test and it looks like we past, the pillar still stands."
"Aye..." the biglass says, glancing up at it in comic relief, but puzzled by a faint noise from the rafters.
Ori: "So this cure all for sea curses, which part do you suppose is the best method of being rid of it; the ridiculous spread and the wine, the upbeat tempo dance party, perhaps it's this puffy highcollard hogwashed outfit I got myself strung up in."
Vardi looks blank for a moment, then smiles as she remembers and explains "Far simpler than any of those! Nay ser, tha best cure for sea sickness is ta stand under a tree, and that pillar is most of one right there."