An Invitation Arrives...

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Lapaki

Lapaki

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((Back-dated to Aug 30))

It is mid-morning, not 48 hours after the conclusion of the weekend's events. The last of the Festival's decorations had just been packed away for another year; the atmosphere beginning to fade when the portal activates in the marketplace of the Breach.

A contingent of over fifty guards step through, well-armed and wearing uniforms of black and silver; the sigil of the crescent moon and telescope upon their chests. They barely break stride as they exit the market in formation, wheeling northeast, down the King's Road and out of town, then eventually out of sight.

Behind them is a single figure; a young man, not nearly as armed as those he follows, but donned in the same colours. He turns the opposite direction of the guard as he leaves the market, stopping instead in the centre of the town commons.

Unfurling a scroll that had been tucked under his arm, he clears his throat, then calls out, for all present to hear:

"I summon to me those who assembled under the name of Gyverin's Gladiators: The Champion, and The Heart of the Bull, Xamot Madian; The Dolphin, Arlyne Caran; The Hunter, Dain Blackwatch; The Lyre, Percival Quinn; and The Eagle, Garridan the Silent.

I bear a message from the Countess Anastasia Selene Gyverin; gather, and hear it."
 
((Posted on behalf of Chris Smith))

Xamot rests casually in the shade of a large tree. Taking a sip from his cup the water is still cool from the stream just yards away. He ponders the events of his team during the festival. A proud smile creeps across his face.

With the last bit of water in his mouth he would spit it on to his whetstone. He circles the blade over it and looks on smiling again.

His name is called in a voice he does not recognize. He gathers his things and heads toward the voice as it continues to shout names.
 
Arlyne lays on the grass in the shade with Xamot, weaving her crystal necklace through her fingers, her thoughts lingering...her eyes slowly close to the sounds of the trees rustling and shivers slightly.

Nearby she hears an unfamiliar voice calling out her name. She opens one eye and sees Xamot gathering his things. "Hmmm, I wonder what this is about?" She thinks as she hastily grabs her items and trails behind him
 
Dain stands in the commons head held high on watch. As much as he enjoyed squaring off against his friends and mentors he is glad that the breach will soon be turning back to more important matters at hand.

At the sound of his name his ears perk up and he turns towards the source of the summons. Seeing the colors of his sponsor he gives one more look around, takes a deep breath, and begins to march towards the crier.
 
Sitting just outside the tavern, Percival plucks away at his mandolin to re-tune it for the fourth time that morning. "Why do I torture myself with such a horrid invention?" He mutters under his breath. After a few minutes, the mandolin is re-tuned once again. Percy stands, slings the instrument over his shoulder, and moves to the tavern for a drink.

Before he has the chance to open the door, he hears a single voice yelling from the town's common area. Stopping to listen to what the commotion is about, he hears the names of his team members from the recently concluded Festival ofor Crows. Upon hearing his name called, Percival grins, turns on his heels and moves hastily to the Commons.
 
Garridan hears the call, shaking his head at the lack of subtlety, though he's not surprised. Some people really like to have attention drawn to themselves he thinks. He gathers his things and heads out to the crier.
 
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The crier nods to each of you as you stop in front of him, checking your names against the list in his grip. As soon as Garridan halts among you, he speaks again, this time in an official, but normal tone.

"It seems we have all arrived. Very well!" Adjusting the scroll to focus on another part of writing, the young man continues. "My Lady Gyverin, the Countess of Rookroost, as thanks for your participation in this past Festival, and in commemoration of your good showing, wishes to invite you to her home to dine, and celebrate."

"Now," his eyes fall to the clansmen and tribesman present, "she understands that a location such as Rookroost may be... uncomfortable for some. To that, she apologizes, but assures that the hall that has been selected for the evening is as far from the Sanctum's learning annex as is possible, and hopes that the view, alone, from the mountain may atone for some of the inconvenience."

"The date for the event will be tomorrow evening; your transport via portal is arranged and paid for, and set to depart at five bells past noon. Dress is formal, but comfortable."

He rolls up the scroll, and tucks it back under his arm. "Are there any questions?"
 
Arlyne looks around and looks down at her attire. "I have to dress up?" she thinks...
She shakes her head to the crier. "No questions from me" she answers.
 
Taking the silence of those present as his answer, "Very well. All those attending will be expected at the portal tomorrow evening. Until then, she wishes you safe travels."

He bows stiffly, then turns and goes back the way he came.
 
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Garridan nods as the messenger departs, turns to the others and says "well I guess I'll see you all tomorrow evening." and departs to finish some work in his alchemy lab.
 
"Well I don't own much in the way of fancy dress and I don't think my ancestors would agree with me exposing my soul to this much arcane taint. But I was raised to never turn down a free meal, especially from someone as important as the Countess."

Dain turns to his friends "I don't suppose any of you have a spare shirt that might fit a man my size?"
 
Waiting for the crier to move from ear shot he breaks formation. A look of confusion comes over him. Leaning closer to Percy's ear, quietly saying one word. "Formal?"
 
Smirking, Percival makes eye contact with Xamot then glances down at his own clothing. "Fancy clothes, like the capes and leg pieces we were given for the festival," Percy says, taking a deep breath inward, then continuing to explain, "When invited to any event with nobility present, it's your duty to make yourself look more noble in their presence. You do this so that the nobility can see that you are meeting their standard of living, and so that they don't have to stare at all the blood you've managed to stain into your everyday wear..." He motions to a spot on Xamot's clothing to make his point and closes his explanation, "Think pretty, like Stig with flowers in his beard, and much less skin showing. I'm sure Arlyne can help you find something to wear."

Percival calls Arlyne closer to explain the confusion, hoping she can help diffuse the situation. "Xamot needs something formal to wear to dinner with the Countess. Can you help him come up with something a bit less... Brutish?"
 
Arlyne nods to Percival. "I think I can figure something out. Not as pretty as stigs flowers though..." her voice trails off as she dusts off some dirt off Xamots armor. "I for one, am not a big fan of formal wear. Too much frills and grandeur it's just not my kind of thing. I think we all need to stop by the market and find something a little more appropriate for our dinner with the Countess." She turns and motions to Dain. "Care to join us?"
 
" Aye! A grand idea that is" Dain smiles wide and motions towards the market. "Lead the way lass"
 
Arlyne smiles and starts to lead the group into the market. "Percy, you should come too! It would be a good idea to have a second opinion."
 
Xamot nods firmly to Percival. "I'll go find Stigandr for some flowers. While I'm with him I'll let him know you think he is pretty." He winks at him as he walks past and follows Arlyne and Dain.
 
Percival sighs, straightens his scarf, then follows the party to the marketplace.
 
((GONE TO PM))
 
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