orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on Jan 26, 2023 18:35:06 GMT 9
Seemingly extricating himself from Ser Price and his love antics with Sarah, Duke Cayge managed to untangle himself from the situation with a contrived excuse. "It would appear a member of my extended family is over there," he would mutter, waving nondistincly in a direction across the party before excusing himself with a curt "Excuse me." He couldn't be certain, but it seemed like the crowd was thinning. The tension was as sharp as a knife, and he needed to figure out what the play was. There was plenty to gain from making a ruckus on this night, the princess would be vulnerable, the nobility would be gathered without their troops, the whole nobility was standing around with its neck out.
The neck of Duke Cayge was too thick for the blade of deception to slit.
He would scan the crowd, looking for others who would need forewarning, before setting eyes on a familiar face. Lady Bandella of House Danna, a sporty young tomboy of a woman who'd forsook the traditional gender norms to fashion herself as a warrior. Orion admired her, the third daughter of a minor lord, she had little to gain by playing by the rules. She'd been on the list of bridal candidates for the Duke, but his grandfather thought there would be better choices. What Duke would stoop so low to marry the third daughter of a lesser house? Let alone one who galivanted around as a warrior.
Orion liked her spunk, and as he sidled up to her, he would scoop up another two flutes of champagne.
"Lady Danna" "Lord Cayge," the woman would eye the glass he proffered with a raised eyebow. "Poison?" "Only if you overindulge." The woman would smirk and take the glass from his hand. "Thank you milord."
The two would both take a single sip of their drinks, indulging a subtle silence for a moment. Duke Cayge would break the silence first. "How have your travels been? I hear tale that you've taken to wandering your father's lands acting as a hedge knight." "They've been well, being out of court has been like a refreshing breath of air." "I can only imagine you find this sort of thing suffocating then." "I.." the woman would pause, taking a sip of her drink to spare her a moment to think. "I would not dare speak ill of the Princess' coronation." "Of course, of course." The Duke would reply with a smirk. "Long live the princess." "Long live the princess." The would be knight would tap her glass to the Dukes and offer him a wry smile. "You must thrive in this sort of soiree then Lord Cayge." "Thrive? That could be a word for it." "And what would be another one, if I might be so bold to ask?" "Tolerate, would be the word I would use." Orion shot back, finishing his drink. "I do what I do out of duty for my grandfather's legacy and our country." "And could your life not be more than just...fulfilling one obligation after another?" "Not without further time and effort." "So you've resigned yourself to playing a game you hate for the rest of your life? For what? Glory and power?" "For the betterment of our country." Orion would quip back with a growl. "And It is not the game I detest, but the mewling curs that were born with a seat at the table planted under their plush arses. My grandfather carved our seat at the table with blood and iron, and how we continue to defend our chair with that same ferocity." "And how would you rectify your...issues with the players of this noble game?" "I watch..." Orion would reply, his gaze dancing over the space where one of the assasinated noblemen once were. "And when the time is right, I make my move." "Well then," Bandella would reply with a raised eyebrow. "Enjoy your wait, I look forward to seeing what such...stoic inaction does for you." "And I enjoy looking forward to watching you joust at one of my tournaments when I have made my move." "You would love to watch me handle a lance wouldn't you." Now THAT was a euphemism. "I would rather knock you from your horse with my own lance." "Many have tried before." "Lesser men have tried before me." "Great men don't need to boast their greatness" "I make no boasts, only promises."
The two would clink empty glasses, bemused smirks crossing their lips. "Long live the future queen" Bandella cooed, echoing their previous toast. "And long live our eternal queendom." Orion would reply leaving her unattended.
Duke Cayge interacts with Guest No 7, Landy Bandella of House Danna, to no effect.
|MyblqBS1-4
FAVOR: 1 | Influence: 6 | Time: 46 1-4
|
|
|
ibis
•
Player Character
Posts: 123
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Pace Mahmoud
OOC Username: Evan
|
Post by ibis on Jan 26, 2023 20:38:04 GMT 9
The power put a nice taste in his mouth. Was that wrong? The Earl of Breakcourt was alive, perfectly fine, unpoisoned - but the fact that he could have died at Ibis' hand was delightful, almost tempting. It drove him to do it again. Because why not? These people were nothing to him. He came here for himself and for his lord, wherever they may be. Ibis paid no attention to the fact that his brain fogged and throbbed when he tried to remember his lord's face, or name - there were bigger fish to fry here.
But who? Ibis sailed the coast of between-people, barely existing until someone requested a drink and then shortly leaving their memory once more after he had delivered. That was the life of a servant, was it not? To be unseen and unheard?
But where was Risha?
Pace shakes the thought away and tucks neatly back into Ibis, swaying his way through the crowd of dignified nobles (and undignified ones, at that). A drink here, a canapé there, it was as easy as breathing. Ibis meets eyes, just briefly, with the slightly edgy Snark Dark'Ness, and they both look away just as fast. Thinking the meeting over, Ibis attempts to return to the crowds at the east side of the room but is stopped.
"A drink." Snark demands, with a gravelly tone and still no eye contact. Is the scion of Dark'Ness just that disgusted to look at the lower class, or is he hiding something? Ibis nods, pulling from his tray a drink that had once sat next to the one he had offered Slamson, with a few drops of the same poisonous mixture dabbled in for good measure.
"My lord" Ibis bows his head, tainted drink handed over, and returns to the crowd. This all felt very powerful.
snKSC4C41-4 Ibis attempts to LETHALLY POISON Snark Dark'Ness (Guest 13) FAVOR: 0 | INFLUENCE: 2 | TIME: 48 1-4
|
|
|
diva
•
Player Character
Posts: 173
Trainer Class: Charmer
Player Name: allen collins
OOC Username: cupid
|
Post by diva on Jan 27, 2023 9:42:58 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/273948810382671884/1066895540010360852/Kaguya~Hime~SINoALICE~600~3329977~jpg Time was ticking down and she had yet to get rid of one of the problems personally. Sure. Other people had managed to get rid of one or the other. But she was failing. Failing. Her. That wasn't allowed. That wasn't perfection. As she straightened her shoulders a little more she tried to pick a target out of the crowd once more. Someone to poison. Someone to get rid of. Someone who wasn't supposed to be here. Someone who was going to ruin this night. Diva tried to hurry to a new target, anyone else who hadn't been given one of these perfectly normal drinks. The poison she had been given had to be defective is all. She would have stern words with the woman who told her that she was going to be able to solve problems with this.
Very stern.
Maybe she would even have to have her take a sip of it to find out if it was actually poison or not. If she wasn't successful at all tonight then maybe she would just need to drink it herself. A useless servant was no servant at all after all. Her tray having but one more drink on it she started to pass by a group of nobles she was stopped by one of the others. A woman who seemed extremely depressed. "Please! You have to help me! There's someone poisoning the other guests you must do something about it!" So... Someone had gotten clumsy and gotten caught. How... Unfortunate. Sloppy kills weren't going to go in their favor.
"Come now, tell me all about it... And have a drink... You look like you've been run ragged..." Gently Diva led Ann D'Mooka away from the rest of the group, pressing a glass in her hand concerned. Of course it was poisoned but... She didn't have to know that. With a small smile as she pressed the glass into the noblewoman's hand she watched as she took a drink. The noble's eyes going wide as she took the drink, and then saw the servants smile.
ḁ̶̢̡̧̬͚̭̗̜̙͓̗͔̭͇̀̑̾͐͆̐̚͘n̸̨̡̢̛͔͙̲̯͎̤̼̱̂̽͂̎̕͠ ̴̛̠̰̏̈̄̀̍͘͠ą̷̜̰̩̰̀̊̇͑̕͝l̸̻̥̝̱̲̳͙͎̹̪̽̓̀̄̄͜l̴͖̬̰̯̱̺̈͝ỵ̵̝̳̑̃͒̿̽̀̓̀͘̕͠͠.̶̧̤̠̞̹̙̝̱͉͆̐̇̕
Pinged inside her brain as the poison took no effect on the other woman. Of course. That's what it meant. If you were supposed to be here you wouldn't die from the poison. It was perfect. A way to weed out the disgusting imposters from the people who were truly here. And Miss Ann D'Mooka...
O̵̝̮͍͎̦͐̇̀̂͐̊̕̚͠p̴̯̼̃͛͑͆̌̾͛ͅä̶̩̣͙̋́̿̏̈́͋̍̓͜͝l̷̼͈̪̓̓̒̄͑̔̌̃̌̿̊͘͘
Was supposed to be here. With a smile she watched as Opal took another drink, realizing that she was safe. That she was special. "I would never harm you my lady. I'm just your humble servant after all. You're meant to be here... You're important." Not wanting to reach beyond her means she gave a curtsey to the noblewoman. She would have to make sure to keep her safe as well. The others that she had poisoned meant little to nothing now. They hadn't died but they were not as important as her lady. They belonged with some other servant.
"I-important?" She looked confused but Diva just continued to smile. Calm in the reassurance that now she had figured out her portion of the game. To find the Princesses true supporters. The ones who would keep her safe and sound. "Very, now... Calm yourself my Lady and continue to circulate. Move among the nobles and tell me every little thing you hear and do." Sure she was a servant and could move about unnoticed. But there were only things that some nobles would tell others when they felt they were alone. And secure. And Diva couldn't be everywhere at once after all.
Opal Ann D'Mooka sniffed and nodded, trying to wipe away the scared tears. Now that she had been assured that she was special, that she was immune, she would be willing to do just about anything to keep that status... But that did mean that... Her beloved... Had been found unworthy.
attempting to lethally poison #1
FAVOR: +1 | INFLUENCE: 2 | TIME: 51
jREwSXOP1d4
1d4
|
|
|
Sarah Lee
•
Soldier, Poet, King
The Creed
Posts: 483
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Barack Orama
OOC Username: Ladybug
Arena Points: 35
|
Post by Sarah Lee on Jan 27, 2023 11:01:47 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/835125283592994878/1066892036604690532/E-h9_E0WQAowJsm~jpg A powerful figure caught Sarah's eye from across the courtyard. Not the gargantuan form of orioncayge, but the restrained, unmistakable silhouette of Duke Manish Jolitt of Amanita Phalloides. She knew the name like she knew her reflection on a bad day. He was the most influential noble here. An estimable warrior, manipulator, rival, and potentially...an ally.
Sarah extricated herself from the sycophancy and made her way, alone, over to where Manish was ingratiating himself with a stunning woman in purple. She angled slightly away from the pair, as if she were simply strolling nearby of natural causes. She let her eyes play across the pair, and as she caught clear sight of his face she turned, gleaming smile severing the pair and making room for a third. "Duke Manish! What a delight to see you again. It's been far too long. And who is this?"
“Lady Richtung, Marchioness of Schneeland,” said the warrior. Her single eye appraised Sarah and, finding no exterior weapons, she nodded in polite greeting.
"Duchess Sarah of Whitehouse," Sarah replied, giving a polite bow to the armor-clad noble. "You look positively ready for battle! I'll admit this is my first Coronation at the Dream Palace. Do these soirees often devolve into such pointed chaos? If so I'd best find my retainer as soon as possible. She's the one who carries the swords."
"You have your suit, and I have mine," said Lady Richtung.
Sarah laughed, her eyes crinkling with genuine joy. "And I can see the appeal, Lady Richtung. If I'd known it were so simple to get out of dancing the cotillon I'd have worn full plate to my debutante ball."
"I'm sure they would still have asked."
"But even then I would just be able to tell them that my sabatons were on too tight."
"And if they really annoying you, you can just close your visor," Lady Richtung added. A smirk tugged at her mouth, and her wandering eye had settled firmly on Sarah. Not as a threat but as a source of enjoyment.
"Lady Richtung you are simply charming," Sarah said, as she wiped away a tear and took a drink from a passing servant. "And how do you know Duke Manish again?"
LuZfXpqH1d4{Guest List} 1: Lady Ann d'Mooka 6: Lady Richtung, Marchioness of Schneeland - ENGAGE 18: Earl Slamson of Breakcourt 19: Count Cleft of Willowbank 20: Viscount Twain of Willowbank 21: Viscount Buckle of Willowbank - Cryogonal 22: Count Hedgemon of Greentuft FAVOR: 1 | INFLUENCE: 5 | TIME: 52 1d4
|
|
|
|
Post by Furrlicity Purrfection on Jan 27, 2023 11:03:33 GMT 9
"Hey, you. Were you bothering my Lady?"
Furrlicity paused from where he had been walking away from his previous interaction. A woman with a sword- no, some bladed spear?- glowered at him. Arms crossed, she looked more a brute than one of the Nobles gathered here. As he would soon find out, she wasn't; she continued before he could inquire further.
"Lady Pepper has been upset since she spoke with you. What did you say to her?"
It's meant as a thread. Furrlicity wonders where this lesser gets off on thinking she can order him around. Yet, he is amused by her short temper. He approaches, which makes her brow furrow. Perhaps his lack of fear unnerved her.
"I may answer if you answer me first. May I have you name?"
It slips from his lips in a careful selection of words between them. A spell woven into the air, a trap laid. She does not notice.
"Cherrin Pepsin, Retainer of House Pepper."
The trap snares. Furrlicity grins and it is wicked.
"You may call me King Purrfection, dear."
She shivers, glowers at him. He plucks a berry from his crown and drops into her willing palm. She grits her teeth and shakes her head minutely yet it still vanishes past her lips.
"I wish you a nice night, my lady."
MruBatKF1-4 ENGAGING #9
FAVOR: 0 | INFLUENCE: 5 | TIME: 55 1-4
|
|
|
manish
•
G.A.Y.
Player Character
Posts: 493
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Manish
OOC Username: GreySquid
Arena Points: 10
|
Post by manish on Jan 27, 2023 12:09:06 GMT 9
There was a long silence after Manish attempted to dazzle Lady Richtung. Long enough that he wanted to start to fidget on his feet. But of course he wouldn’t do such a thing, showing impatience was for the lower class. Thankfully he was saved from the silence by Duke orioncayge . “Ah yes, that was a lovely painting. Although, I have heard whispers that astronomical art is falling out of fashion. It is most likely in both our favor that Earl Slamson snaked it out from under us. Shame that he would do so without providing us with some forewarning though.” The voice in his head seemed pleased at what he was doing. ‘If you can make an ally, make someone a mutual enemy at the same time.’ “Makes one wonder about what else he could have up his sleeve. Ah, but there's no accounting for taste these days.” It didn’t take long before Duchess Sarah also appeared. Now that was someone Manish would prefer to not get on the bad side of. Being an ally would be preferable. Flashes of fighting a mutual enemies, something big, it was always something big when they got together. No, no, no, that was not correct, Manish would never fight something. Fighting was for people who couldn’t afford someone else to fight for them and that was definitely not an issue for him. “Ah, Duchess Sarah Lee , always a pleasure to be in your company! Which I am sure the lovely Lady Richtung will be delighted to learn all about. I’ll leave you in each other’s very capable hands.” There were a lot of people around. ‘More people to rub elbows with, be seen and known by all,’ a voice whispered, but the slight tremble that Manish felt in his hand carrying his glass said otherwise. It was time to go find company elsewhere. There was a small gathering across the way and Manish started to head towards the other group. Maybe he would have more success addressing someone who didn’t look like they were ready for a fight. Afterall, if he were looking for a potential partner, he didn’t want someone who was willing to get their actual hands dirty. Besides, there was a feeling in his stomach that any potential partner wasn’t at a party like this. An image of a smile, white hair, dirt under his nails "You'll do great making a garden, and I'll help you with what you need." Hush, that’s not important. Don’t think about that. Focus on what’s important. ‘If you can’t handle a simple soiree like this, how do you think you’ll ever impress the Princess? What can you see happening here? Focus.’ Right, of course; he was above such fanciful daydreams. Manish scanned the crowd on his walk, picking up what little details he could before stopping at his latest target. Oh, it appeared people had died. Wait, died? He should…he needed to…do nothing. Dying at a party like this? So embarrassing. If they didn’t care enough to stay alive, they weren’t worth a second thought. “Why, is that Lord Halbin of Shinn? It has been ages since I’ve been graced with your presence!” Manish raised his glass to the person in front of him. <Brzzzzzt.> Lord Halbin replied with a nod. Manish turned and pointed towards the larger group. “Quite the happening we have here. Apparently some guests have been enjoying the drink a little too much. How very droll.” “Wait. What did you say?” Manish jolted and stared at Lord Halbin. The guest began to fade, turn to static. Staring directly into his eyes was giving Manish a headache. He knew that headache, he’d know that headache anywhere. “Cereal?” With a final shimmer, the Lord Halbin vanished, leaving a gray kitten behind. Manish caught his Espurr and hugged him tight to his chest. <Bzzzzzzzt.>“What do you mean? Of course I was always going to find you! I just didn’t feel like I needed to hurry about it, I knew you would handle yourself with aplomb.” <Bzzt.>“Well that's just rude. I managed myself just fine without your guidance.”<Bzt.> “No! Cereal, you holy terror, you. Go on, continue to spill all the gossip you gleaned.” XXBePjX01-4 Engaging #24 FAVOR: 1 | INFLUENCE: 4 | TIME: 57 1-4
|
|
|
Ruby
•
Lionheart
Player Character
Posts: 178
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Dr. Ruby Walker Ph.D.
OOC Username: Magnere
Arena Points: 70
|
Post by Ruby on Jan 27, 2023 22:03:12 GMT 9
#s://i~imgur~com/QuIo3YX~png Rubella stood back and watched, listened, and took in the scene before she moved at all from her position.
Her gaze glanced from the familiar statue of the Princess to the older statues. As far as she could tell, they represented a Warrior, a Scholar, and the King... What was the former King's name, again?
The lack of knowledge confounded her for a moment. She should have known, this was not something she would have ever forgotten. How the information escaped her blindsided her for a moment, and she offered a silent moment of respect for his passing. She'd have to encourage someone to slip and reveal his name to her, lest her ignorance be revealed.
"May His Majesty rest in peace, and may her Royal Highness's rule be long and fruitful."
Duke Yggy suddenly ran past the statue of the princess, only to cause Rubella to raise an eyebrow. What could cause such a commotion? Turning around, she witnessed a noble figure laying dead, a Noblewoman's eyes filled with tears. Immediately, her eyes narrowed. She had been warned that people would be trying to cause a problem, hadn't she? To not get in their way?
Wait, by who?
Her eyes narrowed further, these sudden lapses in memory were proving troublesome, but there was only one real logical answer. Duke Yggy was obviously not the culprit, such an answer was too easy. However, it did mean that the true killer was uncaught, roaming across the courtyard with none the wiser.
And quite frankly, Duchess Rubella could not see a reason for the motive. For another Noble to commit such a crime so publicly would be to be committing obvious treason, and a threat to the Princess' security and safety. For a lowly servant to commit such a crime of their own will, why she couldn't imagine it. It would mean death of the most heinous caliber.
There had to be something more, a ringleader, someone in charge, perhaps.
... Or perhaps this was a plan of the Princess's themself? Perhaps a cruel method to discover those truly wise enough to serve? Far be it for her to judge their motives, but until she learned the truth, caution was her friend, and information was her weapon. For if this was instead a threat to the Princess, they should be informed immediately.
And yet, here she stood, alone at the base of the statues. Perhaps there was some greater safety in numbers after all...
Wait, she didn't come here alone, did she? She swore she had her loyal butler with her, all of a sudden.
Duchess Rubella's lips pursed, these memory lapses were proving more and more frequent the more she thought about them, and it was growing irritating. Perhaps it would be best if she found at least positive company to make herself acquainted with, or at least make her appear less of a target all by herself. She'd have to wait for the right moment to act, gauge the situation to come, and appropriately respond.
Preferring those whom she could easily manipulate to those who seemed sure of themselves, she slipped across the courtyard over towards the presence of a certain nervous gentleman. "Excuse me, your grace," Rubella began, curtsying politely as she spoke with a false nervous tone to her voice. Eyes wide with subtle fear, just enough acting to sell the innocent girl facade. "Might I request your company?"
"Ahh, yes, greetings." The figure would turn to look down at her, seeing the young woman in distress. They appeared to be quite nervous themselves, albeit apparently from some kind of social anxiety despite being so well refined in appearance. Their eyes were glancing about, lips quivering ever so slightly. "Are- Are you quite alright?"
"Oh, yes, I shall be fine, thank you. I seem to have lost my butler, and I am so terribly lost without my head of staff. Would you perhaps stay with me until I can find him again? I am Duchess Rubella, of the Ruby Islands. I would be very grateful if you did." Her eyes widened a bit further, a classic puppy-dog look.
"I-" The man looked down at her, heart apparently softening for the young woman. "Yes, yes of course. I am Lord Juniper of Pinetreeland. I would be, er, happy to assist you. Can you describe what they looked like?"
Pinetreeland? Rubella blinked, their soft smile of humor from such a horrendous name hopefully being mistaken for a smile of appreciation.
... Then again, what exactly did her butler look like? Damn these memory lapses, she'd have to sit down and write exactly what she knew and what she didn't at some point to collect her thoughts. At least she'd give what she could remember, anyways. "He... was a fairly short man, but always prim and proper, and a suit to match. A gentleman to the core. I admit, I am surprised he did not grow up in your court, with you appearing such a refined gentleman as well."
Lord Juniper let out a fairly nervous chuckle, pushing up his monocle. "Well, If he is as gentlemanly as you say, we shall stumble across his path sooner or later, I suppose. Shall we take a look for this butler of yours? " He'd offer a polite hand down to the young duchess and Rubella took it eagerly.
"Yes, let's."
71a9GF181-4 ENGAGING #9
FAVOR: 1 | INFLUENCE: 5 | TIME: 59
1-4
|
|
|
Lucky Guy
•
Soldier, Poet, King
Player Character
Posts: 359
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Lucky Guy
OOC Username: AleDog#9110
Arena Points: 30
|
Post by Lucky Guy on Jan 28, 2023 3:00:13 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/1066618141641277451/1066744852529828020/image~png Today was going to be the brightest day in all of the kingdom's time. The event had been carefully prepared with all the love of the servants in the castle, each and every one having prepared the dominion of their new master. Lucky himself had overseen so very much of the work throughout the night, ready to usher in the beginning of a new and wonderful age, a time so golden that it did not even need be brought about by his own cursed touch. To himself in the mirror, he had told that this would truly be a momentous occasion. It would be a time he fondly remembered for the rest of his life.
All of this came crashing down with the actions of a single woman speaking nonsense. As if a pinch on the cheek, the vial in his hands did wonders in breaking the illusion of his simple dream. Of course someone would want their way, no matter the cost-was this not the single greatest gathering of influence that the kingdom had ever known? A pit had formed within Lucky's core, one surely as vile and poisonous as what lie within the bottle in his palm.
The situation reminded Lucky of his father. A warm man with shoulders broad, a man with presence enough to give even the largest of folk pause. He had always seemed indomitable to the young Lucky. Now, by Lucky's hand, he stood as another pile of gold in the tomb that was once his home. And this servant girl would joke about such a terrible thing as a treachery such as what he had done before? She would laugh in the face of this, the most important night in all of the Kingdom's history?
The thought brought a few words from that old father to mind.
"Lass, always remember. If someone steps on your heart..."
The grip on his bottle grew. His grasp was iron. His grasp was golden.
"You give them hell for it. Aye, little spitfire?"
How would he go about and do so? He couldn't just give the woman a taste of her own treachery. She was wise enough to have posed as a servant girl-Were she anyone else, he could simply have her drink her own poison on merit of courtesy. However, this was sadly not the case. Lucky, as he was, could do nothing to her. He needed aid, a savior.
But who? Not minutes ago, the party had been free of strife. The moment that the bottle had been placed within his palm, the enemy was suddenly without number or limit. How could Lucky possibly know who had not come to invoke treachery for their own personal gain? None of the nobility would do. What if they, in turn, decided to use this knowledge for their own gain? What if they were in on the game from the beginning?
Lucky took pause in his step. There was one--A noble man. He exuded righteousness and carried it wherever he went. A man who had climbed to nobility himself, a true example for which other nobles were to follow, he was a man said to hold favor from the Slumbering Princess herself... The Duke Cayge of the Southern Edens.
If he were plotting against the Princess, too, surely the world would be bereft of heroics.
And so, Lucky did as he had been told. He brought poison to a glass, making a show of doing so for the eyes of whichever traitor was watching him whilst holding the majority back with his thumb on the rim of the bottle. Under Lucky's careful eye, this drink would hardly kill-it would naught but bring the imbiber a night most foul and absent from the premises. He brought the drink to Ser Saul the Good, honored Knight and honorary nobility of House Willowbank, as well as a man who looked... awfully familiar to the servant boy. Thereafter, the two had a short talk before Lucky departed into the crowd once more.
His journey throughout the crowd would eventually bring him to Ser Orion, and to Ser Orion he would go, platter of drink and hors d'oeuvre atop his hand and courtesy in the other, for he would use this hand to bow deeply to the noble in question.
"Honored Duke, you have been requested to have audience with the Duchess Frederika of Asper. May I escort you to her?" Though he felt the deepening of dread within that black pit inside of his core, it was a necessary lie, for he had to bring the duke behind a tree where he was sure that nobody was close-by to. There did they wait for a moments' time as Lucky ensured that there were none around to overhear, so that the next of his words may be spoken with clarity and import.
"I beg your forgiveness for the deception, milord of Edens, but there is treachery most foul afoot within these castle walls. Your aid I request in this time, for the Princess' life may be at stake."
The two would talk for a time. Lucky knew the face of the witch, for it was quite hard to forget, and now Orion would know what to look for, too.
Lucky attempts to poison #23 with a nonlethal dose (a feat I attribute to the Alchemist class) and begins to actively (yet quietly) rebel against the hand of C.L.A.W. Favor 2 | Influence 2 | Time IS UP w5awmQ311d4 1d4
|
|
|
M00K
•
Retired
Posts: 58
OOC Username: M00K
|
Post by M00K on Jan 29, 2023 2:30:33 GMT 9
THE PRECIPICE CROWN
3. DINNER IS SERVEDFor the first time, the doors to the Dream Palace open.
The crisp, clear sound of brass cuts through the courtyard with all its merrymaking and treachery. A summons. You look up to see two pages with herald trumpets standing at the top of the Palace steps. A third page steps forward, reading off a scroll.
“Esteemed Guests of the Nobility are now invited to the Banquet Hall for a feast befitting of their station prepared by the Serving Staff.” The Nobles immediately begin climbing the steps to the palace, perhaps hoping the Princess herself will make an appearance at the royal feast. On the other hand, Servants are beckoned through a staff entrance with little fanfare, their thanks for excellent service a mere [tangent=Money can be exchanged for goods and services.]silver piece[/tangent] of the Dream Kingdom’s currency.
Servants must be seen, not heard, but the truth is that servants go better un-seen as well. Secret passages spiderweb out in all directions, leading to kitchens, hallways, stairs, lovers’ bowers, the [tangent=Two guards keep watch over this area. They can be overcome via either of the following methods:
- Influence 12
- Bribe: Silver Piece x3
Collaboration will be necessary to overcome this obstacle.]royal bedrooms[/tangent], and even [tangent=The catacombs are guarded by a Salamence with bad eyesight. It can be overcome via either of the following methods:- Supereffective Pokemon x2
- Battle For Your Life x4
Collaboration will be necessary to overcome this obstacle.]the catacombs[/tangent] beneath the palace. Those with watchful eyes might see M00K:Claw slip away down one of these passageways.
Naturally, your delusion calls you to the Banquet Hall to wait hand and foot upon your betters.
But what if– As the most influential Nobles at this gathering so far, Sarah Lee, orioncayge, and Furrlicity Purrfection will notice something strange about the dream-script when it appears this time, scrawling its way out word-by-word in your User Interface. A [tangent=Influence Over NarrativeAs you gain influence in the Dream Palace, you gain power over the dream.
Players with over 5 Influence may edit instances of the Princess's narration (anything in quote boxes with the italic text) once per cycle. You may add or switch one word for each Influence over 5 you have. The new sentence must make sense grammatically.
You may immediately RP as if changes have occurred. Describe the effect to its full glory. What you change will affect everyone in the dungeon.
You are going to change the world.]blinking text cursor[/tangent].
Everything on the tables looks absolutely delicious, except the cauliflower (which looks like feathers) and the hot wings (which look more like bat wings). As you dig in, Nobles may hear a few [tangent=Some say the King did not die quietly. Perhaps the Princess, freshly returned from her exile, had a hand in his early retirement. Others wonder whether someone more suitable— one of the old royal family, like the King's younger brother— might be more suitable for the throne instead. After all, this Kingdom has always had a King.
Of course, those who loudly expressed such opinions may already number among the dead.]rumors[/tangent] about the royal family. With drink in their systems, people seem eager to share their theories until a reverent hush suddenly sweeps through the hall. Awe. Excitement.
She's coming.
A voice rings out, indolent, dispassionate.
It seems I should welcome everyone. Flanked by guards, a veiled figure descends, willowy and slender as a stalk of lavender, to take her seat at the front table. Three royal seats beside her are left empty as she settles, resting her chin in one hand.
That's all. Welcome. A sound bubbles faintly in your ears. Distantly, as if from underwater, you can hear game music start up in the background.
{BOSS BATTLE: <LEGENDARY POKEMON ARTICUNO>} Through the veil, the Princess turns and meets your gaze with white, sightless eyes.
She does not smile. She does not linger.
She looks through you, as if you are so dull, so mundane, and so utterly transparent that a single word could send you running from her halls. Why try? Why bother? Why fight back? You have been controlled, displaced, manipulated, deprived of your Pokemon and powers, and even robbed of your sense of self. In this game of wills, you have already lost.
In fact, you are not even a player.
BANQUET HALL[tangent= ITEM ACQUIRED: POISON Servants may poison a guest’s food or drink once per post (you may choose whether this is lethal or nonlethal). Successfully poisoning a guest collectively earns the Servants +1 INFLUENCE.
Players and Player Pokemon are immune to poison. If a poisoning attempt fails, that guest is confirmed to be a player’s Pokemon. In this way, illusions can be eliminated from the pool.] POISON (SERVANT)[/tangent] | [tangent= ENGAGING GUESTSNobles may engage a guest once per post, either in conversation or other thematic discourse.
Guests will increase or slander Nobles’ INFLUENCE depending on whether the guest’s Primary Pokemon Type is supereffective against a noble’s Trainer Subclass.
By interacting with guests at the ball, you may collectively be able to narrow down which Pokemon are which!] ENGAGE (NOBLE)[/tangent] Please post your actions on Discord! INSTRUCTIONSTell us a story.
The game continues as before, but with the Princess watching, stakes are higher than ever.
Servants may leave the Banquet Hall to explore at the cost of Favor. Nobles may leave the Banquet Hall at the cost of Influence (-1 per post you're missing from the party).
Paste this code at the bottom of your post and add the result to TIME (starting at 0). Remove the %.
[center][%roll range="1d4"][/center]
USER INTERFACENEXT CYCLE AT TIME:60 OR IN SIX DAYS
{DELUSIONS (COLLAPSED)} | NOBLE | SERVANT | | You are not yourself. You are Duke/Duchess <name> of <name.> You want to impress the Princess tonight. Perhaps she’ll favor you. Perhaps she’ll choose you. The others want to hurt her. You would never hurt her. You would never hurt her. Forget that other voice. That person is beneath you.
| | | You are a servant. You are happy to serve. This is your place. You do not ask questions. You do not speak unless spoken to. You were born to cater to your betters. You love this job, servant. This is your life. Forget that other voice. It’s just trying to distract you. |
[tangent= Mechanic #1: Favor Players may earn the Princess’s Favor by complying with the delusion. A player must obey all aspects of their delusion in a post to gain +1 Favor. This rule is absolute. Unbreakable, unbendable, and cold as ice.
There is no compromise. Give in to the dream, and you will be rewarded.
Rebel, and face the consequences.
The effects of Favor are unknown.]ABOUT: DELUSIONS[/tangent]
|
|
|
|
Post by Furrlicity Purrfection on Jan 29, 2023 10:57:50 GMT 9
Like any good King, Furrlicity takes his place with the princess at the head table. He does not speak with her beyond nodding to her greeting. A servant places scrumptious food in front of him. Knives slice into feathers, cauliflower stabbed with a delicate touch to bring to his lips. He was, after all, a cat; and they did so love feathers.
His eyes meet Viscount Ri'val of Tu'torial Moor's; the other had happened to glance up at the wrong time. Be a bit too close. Furrlicity smiles and lifts a hand to a servant.
"Bring that one here, please. As my guest."
The other noble is moved to his side.
Another slice of the cauliflower is lifted onto his fork when the other is seated. It leaks a pinkish fluid, smeared with blackened berry juice.
"Have you tried this? It is lovely." Hand cupped under the bite, Furrlicity presses it towards the other noble. When they open their mouth to reply, he pushes it inside, quick. Chew, swallow- he grins to himself.
The long tables of the forest seem to spiral forever, the Noonlight banners, his banners, hanging high and proud above them. Furrlicity leans back in his seat, surveying his kingdom around them.
After all, this kingdom had always had a King.
zbQcdFjq1-4 ENGAGING #14 FAVOR: 0 | INFLUENCE: 7 | TIME: 02 1-4
|
|
|
manish
•
G.A.Y.
Player Character
Posts: 493
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Manish
OOC Username: GreySquid
Arena Points: 10
|
Post by manish on Jan 29, 2023 12:23:08 GMT 9
With dinner finally announced, Manish shuffled in with the rest of the noble guests, Cereal perched in his arms. The little cat was a going off with buzzing about how awful it was to be stuck as a human, but Manish was just glad to have his companion back. He did miss the others, even if he wasn’t totally sure who or what it was he was missing. There was an ache in his heart over it that was easily ignored as he entered the dining room and he took his place at the table. The food sure was…something. It felt like the longer he stared at the food the more his head started to hurt and he had an unexplainable craving for stir fry. But the food paled in comparison to the arrival of the Princess. Looking directly at her made his head hurt, just like the food did and only with a soft <brzzt> from Cereal was he able to pull his eyes away. Sure, he was noble and deserved his place at this table, but there was a difference between a noble and a princess. Besides, he had seen the bodies fall this evening, maybe someone would take her out and he wouldn’t have to think about it. That did mean, though, that he needed to get in good with whoever was going to replace her. The King Furrlicity Purrfection sure did claim that he was equal to her, if not above her. Maybe he could befriend him again? Again? Did he know King Furrlicity? Of course they ran in similar circles, but he remembers him eating a rock. Why would a king eat a rock? He must be misremembering. That would never happen. Manish made a mental note to try to approach King Furrlicity later, though. If only to (re?)introduce himself. For now though, he turned to the woman next to him. Maybe she was looking for a noble to marry? He hoped not. Wait, no, that’s not right. Of course he wanted to be seen as an eligible bachelor to all the potential women at the party. ‘Marriage is an important networking tool, use it to your advantage. Having an interesting marriage can turn even a mediocre job into the hottest gossip.’ Yes, yes of course. He needed his name in everyone’s mouth, might as well start with the woman next to him. A Lady Bandella of House Danna, if he remembered correctly. Manish leaned over to the Lady to quietly whisper, “can you believe it? They aren’t even using a charger. I would never host an event without a full set of dinnerware. But apparently standards are lower here than I was expecting.” “Hmm, at least the food looks delicious,” she replied, dishing up her own plate. Manish gave her a smile and a small shake of his head. “But to have guests serve themselves? I can only imagine how many germs are being shared in each of these dishes. I wouldn't consume anything if that's the sanitation standards here.” Lady Bandella of House Danna froze, fork halfway to her mouth, and examined the food before setting her fork back down again. He eyed one of the nearby plates of…bat wings? It took all his training to not grimace at the food. “Besides, I doubt any of this is vegan.” Manish had resigned himself to just not eating at this party. No drinking, no eating, he really was going to need Rom…someone. A servant at his own estate to cook him food after he returned home. Yes, that’s right, it would just be some servant who would serve him. zgTu35851d4 Engaging #7 FAVOR: 2 | INFLUENCE: 4 | TIME: 06 1d4
|
|
|
Tuesday
•
Battle Legend
The Creed
Posts: 1,602
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Martín 'Mars' Marzán
OOC Username: Stells
Arena Points: 138
|
Post by Tuesday on Jan 29, 2023 13:15:22 GMT 9
#s://img~nickpic~host/Czh0Tx~png When you have nothing left but dreams and memories, when illusions appeal more to you than reality, you must fight to protect what you hold dear.What is a servant? A pawn? A rook? A bishop? A knight? They all live to serve. They all swear vows of allegiance. They all live and die for the sake of their monarch. And yet, once in a while, a pawn goes as far as a pawn can go and rises above all other pawns. A pawn undergoes promotion to become something greater, or perhaps even an underpromotion to become something much much darker... Unseen and unnoticed, the maid of quiet steps enters the banquet hall, and in her mind the voices whisper the truth: YOU ARE A SERVANT. YOU ARE TUESDAY OF THE QUEENSGUARD.YOU ARE HAPPY TO SERVE. YOU'RE HAPPY TO PROTECT YOUR LIEGE.THIS IS YOUR PLACE. YOUR PLACE IS THE SHADOWS.YOU DO NOT ASK QUESTIONS. YOU MUST DOUBT EVERYONE'S INTENTIONS.YOU DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO. TO PROTECT, YOU ACT IN SILENCE.YOU WERE BORN TO CATER TO YOUR BETTERS. YOU WERE BORN TO SERVE THE PRECIPICE.YOU LOVE THIS JOB, SERVANT. YOU LOVE THIS JOB, KNIGHT.THIS IS YOUR LIFE. THIS IS THE LIFE YOU WANT.FORGET THAT OTHER VOICE. WHAT VOICE?IT’S JUST TRYING TO DISTRACT YOU. NOTHING CAN DISTRACT YOU FROM YOUR GOAL.The shadow knight is no knight by right, there had been no ceremony to give her a title as such, for titles do not matter to those of her kind. In the shadows, she serves. Hidden and disguised, appearing as the most insignificant and lowly of things: a catgirl maid. She lives in service of her liege. She lives only to protect her. Her existence belongs to the Precipice. She had fallen into the abyss and she a part of her always remained within. She will do whatever it takes to protect the princess. She will ensure the princess takes her rightful crown. But, in this place so full of armed nobles who whisper of the exalted princess and make malicious accusation, how can she ensure it all on her own? So many traitors to execute. So many allies of the princess' wicked uncle. The shadow knight needs more allies of her own too, she understands this when watching that horrible Birchwild King sit by the princess' side. Furrlicity Purrfection. That man. The man who had betrayed her once. When, though? Why does she hate him so much? What had he done? It must be because he means the princess harm. It must be because he brings the noonlight.As she quietly watches her beloved liege from the shadows, the hall is corrupted, delightful music being replaced by the rustling of leaves in a forest. Not any forest. The Birchwild Grove. The grove which sigils mark every banner all around them. No... No! This is all wrong.Tuesday's blood runs cold. Not fear, but gelid loathing. There's ice in her gaze. She knows she can't act against him yet. She must protect the princess. With her loyal companion chasing after M00K:Claw, this servant of the Precipice must resort to dark means to protect it. A plan is perfected in winter's frost: in the kitchen, a vial of lethal poison almost emptied into silver saucières full of beautifully lavender sauce (totally not purple ranch) and three notes are written in the most sweet and joyful of handwritings (she dots her i's with hearts and everything!). She takes one of the saucières, leaving two notes behind. One of them is actually a reminder not to serve fish, since the princess is sick of it and her knight must prevent anything from making her unhappy, and the other note is identical to the one she slips to another servant when no one is looking — ibis. It says the following: There's not a sound. Not even a whisper. She's gone as quickly as she appeared, her attention always being on her duty: to serve. So what if ibis and the other servants don't know of her true intentions? So what if she's using them? They're all servants. They must live for their princess. The shadow knight who is disguised as a maid serves. This maid whose cat ears twitch in the slightest of manners when overhearing a lord who is shameless enough to loudly proclaim his worthless and wrongful opinions: "A kingdom needs a monarch who can FIGHT! What will the princess do if one of our neighbours were to invade? Invite them to a tea party?""They have already invaded, fool." Tuesday of the Queensguard thinks, tufted tail swaying lightly. She walks an 'L-shape around the long table and approaches Yrd the Fearsome (3). Without a word, without eve a glance, without stepping close enough to interrupt the conversation, she serves him Chef Q's lilac sauce to go with the hot Woobat wings he's eating when he gives her a nod in what barely counts as acknowledgement. There is no customer service smile on her part, for she is meaningless and insignificant to these people. Insignificant but not powerless.This is not something anyone will ever know, though. Her power remains in the shadows; those shadows she walks an L-shape into, leaving behind a not-so-fearsome lord who may soon choke on a sauce-drenched "chicken" bone. <GUEST 3 HAS DIED>
...
<SERVANTS +1 INFLUENCE>
0pyeiqqT1d4
FAVOR: 4 | INFLUENCE: 5 (1 EXTRA PERSONAL POINT) | TIME: 09 1d4
|
|
|
Sarah Lee
•
Soldier, Poet, King
The Creed
Posts: 483
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Barack Orama
OOC Username: Ladybug
Arena Points: 35
|
Post by Sarah Lee on Jan 29, 2023 14:33:50 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/835125283592994878/1066892036604690532/E-h9_E0WQAowJsm~jpg The Dream Castle shook with Furrlicity Purrfection's presence. With the sheer force of will that his station commanded.
Dark pillars of ice coiled and boughed like faithful servants as the HALL became a FOREST. Autumnal light caught the Noonlight finery that hung from every surface.
"Quite warm in here, don't you think?" asked Crawmon Copperriddle, the knight seated beside them. Like Focus he was wearing full plate armor. He speared a sliver of red meat and slipped it through a gap in his visor.
Focus Richtung, clad in her lavender plate, nodded politely as she disassembled and devoured her own meal. Meat first, then the bones. "I'd rather roast alive in this steel than freeze without it."
"Strange. I don't feel the heat at all," Sarah said. She felt herself start to sweat, but not from the meagre sunlight. This wasn't true heat. This was just a beam of autumn cast on an otherwise frosty table. A spreading warmth that clashed with the chill of the palace.
This isn't what the Princess wants, Sarah thought, a forkful of cauliflower halfway to her mouth. This is her coronation! She bit into the roasted vegetable. It tasted fowl.
A little voice slunk through the web of misplaced thoughts and allegiances in her head. It sidestepped the promise to Claw, and ducked between the icy chains that bound Sarah to the Princess' will. It doesn't have to be her coronation.
Sarah scraped the plate with her knife, hands shaking as she took another bite. What has she done to earn the crown? Nothing! Sarah bit down on her dagger and tasted metal. Dagger? Her food was gone. Her cutlery replaced with a dueling saber and a parrying knife.
Sarah took a deep, shuddering breath. Cold air filled her chest, and she breathed out a roiling cloud of steam. The world was changing for the better. Conflict was a thousand times better than cauliflower!
Manipulation isn't power, whispered that warm voice in her brain. You can't chat your way into a crown, or win it by peer approval. The only trial the matters is a trial by FIRE.
Sarah stood up from the table, cutlery heavy in her hands. The tables sunk into the ground, the food platters stretching to create long, silver dueling strips still covered in what remained of their extravagant dinner. Crawmon Copperriddle stood at the far end of the piste, dual axes gripped in his mailed fists. He kicked some hot wings out of the way and advanced on Sarah. "Forgive me, Duchess, but I'm here to win favor, not friends."
Sarah gripped her sword and dagger so hard that they sizzled. But they didn't melt. Nothing could be broken in this palace. Not yet.
She dropped into a fighting stance, sword held low and parrying dagger at the ready. He hacked at her with his axes and she danced backwards down the platter, grinning. "The only thing I won't forgive is a halfhearted fight, Copperriddle."
Black feathers budded on Sarah's shoulders. The banner of her allegiance to Birchwild, long buried and struggling to bloom.
"What a great weight off my shoulders," Crawmon said, sarcasm ringing inside his helmet. He swiped at the air between them, forcing her back.
She ducked a high swing and struck Crawmon's wrist with her offhand dagger, sending him off-balance. He spun to follow her but she slid behind him like his own shadow, circling and slashing up his back with her sword. Her blades skittered along Crawmon's armor like eagle talons grasping at a tortoise.
"Those little blades aren't made for cutting armor, Duchess."
Sarah backed off, tapping her UI. Her weapons disappeared. A heartbeat later a sword-length feather materialized in her hands. Flames streaked along the edge on the weapon, and Crawmon recoiled. "Enough cloak and dagger. Enough muffled words and cuffed poison. Give me flame! Give me blade! Give me battle!" Sarah lashed out with the blade, forcing Crawmon to meet the blade with both axes. Fire licked his gauntlets, and he hissed in pain. She stepped in and kicked Crawmon in the back of the knee, sending him to the ground.
Fire roared in her ears, drowning out any final remnants of the Princess' voice. Her black feather cloak unfurled, rolling down her back like a cloud of war smoke.
Sarah looked around for her next opponent. "Royalty don't feast. They fight!"
q6b8qXWV1d4{Guest List} 1: Lady Ann d'Mooka 6: Lady Richtung, Marchioness of Schneeland - BRAIXEN 11: Crawmon Copperriddle - ENGAGE 18: Earl Slamson of Breakcourt 19: Count Cleft of Willowbank 20: Viscount Twain of Willowbank 21: Viscount Buckle of Willowbank - Cryogonal 22: Count Hedgemon of Greentuft FAVOR: 2 | INFLUENCE: 6 | TIME: 10 1d4
|
|
|
diva
•
Player Character
Posts: 173
Trainer Class: Charmer
Player Name: allen collins
OOC Username: cupid
|
Post by diva on Jan 29, 2023 23:50:00 GMT 9
#s://cdn~discordapp~com/attachments/273948810382671884/1066895540010360852/Kaguya~Hime~SINoALICE~600~3329977~jpg She was nothing more than a servant yes, led through corridors and given paltry sums of money. But she didn't care about the money. She cared about being the best servant she could possibly be. Nothing more. Nothing less. Those who were unworthy deserved to be removed of their station. Which was also her duty. Which meant into the dueling hall they went in order to take care of some business. The food meant nothing to a true noble who was ready to defend their chosen victor. Who needed a princess when you could have a king at the head? The Noonlight King seemed like he was much better prepared for the whole thing.
And while she couldn't voice her opinion on the matter, her beloved Opal Ann D'Mooka... Could. As a noble herself she could speak up in order to give whispered rumors to the other noble's ears. And that's exactly what she was going to do. "I... I agree with Duchess Sarah," the nervous noble started to tell the person next to her, "after all... Who will protect us from all these strange happenings? Our numbers have been dwindling and the princess doesn't seem to care at all..." It was a whispered comment but whispers traveled quickly in a game of telephone like this. And through Diva's ministrations the nobles were not paying attention at all to what she was doing.
A napkin in hand she gently scooped up one of the fat berries that had fallen from the king's crown. A sign of devotion to those who could survive it. Something inside her stirred for a moment as she thought about fairies... And how she couldn't possibly give her allegiance to anyone else because of it. Into the pitcher of wine she was moving around the room with went the berry, along with the fatal poison that had been dashed in their as well. They would submit, one way or the other. There was no choice.
Stopping she started to offer a drink to Crawmon Copperriddle, someone she personally found to be absolutely unworthy of existence. But with his current position of 'on the ground' and embarrassed he was in no place to accept it. So that meant she needed to move to another target. The berry filled wine that had a poisonous tinge instead was offered properly to another golden haired noble. Sir Raine of Boweland would do fine. And if he was worthy it would be fine. If he wasn't... Well then everyone would fall into line eventually. One way or another.
attempting to lethally poison #08
FAVOR: +1 | INFLUENCE: 4 | TIME: 13
WmRWrSBd1d4
1d4
|
|
|
Valentine
•
Soldier, Poet, King
Player Character
Posts: 186
Trainer Class:
Player Name: Logan Denman
OOC Username: Haberdasher
Arena Points: 60
|
Post by Valentine on Jan 30, 2023 7:14:01 GMT 9
Valentine barely even noticed as the banners changed around her; one set of fanciful banners was little different than another to her, though others might have been able to realize the truth that hid behind their new insignia. And while she noticed the hall turning into the forest, here too she failed to grasp any larger meaning, only delighting in the beauty to be found in her new surroundings. What manmade hall could compare to the beauty offered up by nature, after all? Why wouldn't the princess want to marvel in the most beautiful setting that the world had to offer?
But when the hall became a dueling hall... well, frankly, things began to make a little more sense in Valentine's mind.
No wonder that so many nobles, including her beloved Lady Wynne, had brought weapons to what had initially seemed to be a royal banquet. They weren't idiots who had dressed inappropriately for the occasion; no, they were geniuses, prophets even, who knew what was to come, knew that the battle that had been simmering under the surface for so long was now to rise up and lead to actual bloodshed.
And this, too, explained why the poison hadn't worked on Lady Wynne, or the other noble with the big sword. They were loyal to the princess, after all. The princess knew what she was doing here. Those loyal to her would survive their duels, and those who were only pretending to care for her... well, they would be more vulnerable.
But duels weren't the only way to dispose of the impostors, either...
It was easiest to pick off those who were on the edges. Lord Entailor of the Broad Way was on his own, though he kept shooting furtive glances at Lady Pepper as she charmed the crowd. Was it a simple, innocent crush on his part? Or a desire to eliminate a competitor, one who had no means to do him harm in turn?
His weaponry was formidable. If he went into a duel with the wrong person, he could cause some serious harm. Valentine wouldn't stand for that. Nobody loyal to the princess should have to face death or disfigurement just to prove their mettle. Maybe Lord Entailor was loyal. If he was, the poison she'd slipped into his canapes wouldn't cause him any trouble at all. If not... well, he wouldn't be causing anybody else any trouble ever again.
Valentine was silent and smiling as she presented the Lord with his doctored food.
She was beginning to remember why she loved this job so much.
(Attempting to lethally poison #4)
FAVOR: +2 | INFLUENCE: 4 | TIME: 15 Pyprvjlk1-4
1-4
|
|
|