The Tarot Game

The old stomping grounds

2011-06-14T22:18:54Z

Who: Ebele and open to Staves
What: Ebele visits her old home
Where: Staves kingdom
When: Tuesday afternoon

It had been a long time since she had been back there, it felt like ages. She had taken a horse out early and rose into the Staves kingdom on her own only carrying a small dagger in case she ran into any problems. She didn't run into any trouble as she entered the kingdom, keeping her head low. It was nice to be on familiar grounds, traveling through streets she used to race through as a child.

It was strange, almost as if she were walking through a dream she had once a very long time ago. She even had to reach out and touch one of the stone walls to make sure it was real. Running her fingers along the stone she smiled. She knew the risk in going home but it was nice to just sneak in for the afternoon. As long as she didn't get caught by anyone important. She meandered the streets a bit more, re-aquatinting herself with the shops and the stands, the locals. She didn't quite blend in but it was nice to pretend for once.

Sparring (Open)

2011-06-14T19:35:32Z

Who: Adrienne, Samuel, and OPEN!
What: Adrienne and Sam are sparing when some potentially interesting happens
Where: Swords Kingdom, palace training grounds
When: Tuesday afternoon

Adrienne spun on her heel, bringing her sword around. Metal met metal in a loud crash, her hand shook a little at the reverberation but that was barely anything. She jumped back and brought her sword around again and held it pointed at her opponent, challenging him to swing again.

Samuel had to admit she was becoming quite the challenger. They had practically grown up together but Adi was always just a little bit smaller, a little bit younger, a little bit slower. Her age was starting to show less as they got older though, she had learned to use her size as a weapon. No one expected such a sweet looking girl to wield a sword with such power. He stuck out again, giving her a slightly more challenging swipe with his own sword. "You're getting quite good little one," Samuel grinned as she deflected the blow with a lithe turn.

Adrienne smirked. "Little one? I'm nearly your age grandpa," she teased. "Just because I'm not married and without children doesn't mean I'm little anymore."

He put his hand over his heart. "Shot through and through," he laughed. "Calling me an old man like that."

"Can't deny the truth," she said smiling, her head tilted a little to the side. She struck again, stepping forward with a quick jab.

"Speaking of, are you going to get married any time soon or let yourself turn into a spinster?" he teased, swinging back.

"Don't eve start Sam, you're starting to sound like my father," she rolled her eyes. "I'll marry when I damn well please... probably never," she laughed.

"Unfortunate for the poor hopefuls," he said to his friend. "I know a few guys who would love to make an honest woman of you." He waggled his eyebrows and struck again.

She practically snorted, a highly unladylike sound as, as she swung back and side stepped his attempt. "Like anyone could ever make me into something I'm not."

Trials and Tribulations

2011-06-14T03:47:59Z

Christoph sat low in one of the armchairs in the king and queen's private sitting room. The room had to be passed through in order to enter their bedroom and, for the most part, was typically used as just that: a mere hallway. The only time the sitting room was actually utilized was when Odilia wanted to talk to her husband.

Across from Christoph sat, Odilia stood leaning her hip against a dresser. Words had not been passed since Christoph had entered the room to find her standing there. He recognized what was going on the moment he entered the room. "I feel you have been distant lately," she said breaking the silence, "especially since the party."

Christoph just stared blankly at her from across the room. He lifted a hand and put it to the side of his head before lazily shrugging a shoulder.

"That is not a suitable answer," she told him, "I will not ignore things any longer. I want to know what is going on," she pleaded.

"What would you like me to say?" he asked. He thought back to the party and nodded his head at her, "yes, I would have to agree with you that I've kept my distance since the party." He shifted in the chair, "this is because, quite frankly, I find it a touch annoying that you are spending your time planning birthday parties."

Odilia folded her arms across her chest, "oh? How should I be spending my time then?" she asked him with a perched eyebrow. "No, really, do tell me what I should be doing instead because, quite frankly, if I didn't do such annoying things we'd never see anyone." She unfolded her hands and held them out in front of her, "you do realize it is important to maintain relationships with the people you rule over, king?" she shook her head at him.

Christoph cleared his throat, "sorry, I must've phrased myself improperly. What I meant to say is: I find it a touch annoying that you are speanding your time planning birthday parties nowadays."

Odilia shook her head, "what is that supposed to mean? I've always hosted parties."

"What I mean is," he argued, "a war has just ended with the Runic kingdom-"

"Oh, I had no idea," she interrupted.

Christoph held up a finger at her, "let me finish. I let you say what you wanted to say." He put his hand back down, "a war has just ended, my brother and best friend has mysteriously died, my eldest sons are missing or dead, and now we might be on the brink of another war and you are throwing fucking birthday parties!" he growled trying to keep his voice down.

Odilia squinted her eyes, "I don't understand," she admitted, "another war? What are you talking about?"

Christoph let out a breath, "I have my suspicions about what really happened to Malcolm." He paused for a moment to try and calm himself back down. "I think he was murdered," he paused again, "assassinated if you will," he offered.

Odilia looked at him in confusion. She stepped away from the dresser and found her way into a nearby chair. "This is..." she rubbed at her forehead, "why?"

Christoph shook his head slowly, "I haven't quite figured it all out but," he looked her right in the eye, "I believe my father had something, if not everything, to do with it."

Odilia fell back into her chair with a gasp. She wasn't sure how to respond because she was shocked but, somehow, not as surprised as she thought she should be. "Who else have you talked to about this? Do your brothers know?"

He shook his head, "I haven't brought it up but... they're not stupid." His head fell back onto the chair as he stared up at the ceiling. "I just don't know what the hell to do. I know I have to do something about it but I can't help but think that if something happens to me..." he shook his head again. "Erich and Sascha are gone," he said lifting his head to look at his wife once more, "if something happens to us our family will be lost without us. August isn't ready to be king... and what if something happens to him?" his eyes widened in horror at the thought.

Odilia stood from her chair and made her way over to her husband, "nothing is going to happen to us," she assured him as she stood now in front of him. She knelt down in front of him and put her hands on his knees. "Our family will be fine... and I am so sorry that you have been going through this on your own. If I had any idea I would not have been worried about a silly party."

Christoph chuckled to himself, "no, it's fine." He put his hands on hers, "it was very kind of you to throw a party for her - she needed it."

Odilia smiled back at him. "We will get through this," she told him, "I know things are bad right now but we've managed to get through harder times than this; have a little faith."

Christoph offered a smile back at her, "I hope you're right," he said simply.

Gift or Burden?

2011-06-11T18:36:48Z

Who: Olie and Emil (Mchumba and Svana, briefly)

What: Emil and Olie talk, a talk that turns, somewhat, into an argument

Where: The living room of the Stave castle

When: Thursday evening

Olie picked up one of the pillows from the couch he was sitting on and held it up to his face. This is not happening right now, he thought to himself in frustration. Why me?

"Are you done yet?" he asked.

Olie slid the pillow down off of his face for his eyes to fall back upon his brother, Emil. "You're dead," he said flatly. Olie was still trying to get used to seeing his dead brother on a regular basis. Thankfully Emil didn't take it too harshly when Olie admitted, a few days ago, he wished he couldn't see dead people; it was messing with his head. After Olie had gotten over the sudden joy of being able to see people he never thought he would again, it became quite a burden.

"We've already established this," Emil replied.

"Emil," Olie said slowly, "you are dead."

Emil rolled his eyes, he sitting on the adjacent couch. "Little brother, we've already been over this. I thought you were past this." Emil had agreed to only appear to Olie when nobody was around thus why the two were sitting in the living room (everyone hated it).

"It's not that part I am upset about," he admitted, "I can't talk to Vreni for you."

Emil was taken aback. "Olie," he tried to respond, "I need to tell her things." He paused afterward, Olie's face falling back onto the pillow he was still holding. "There are so many things left unsaid and even more to say now that I'm dead."

Olie lifted his head back up, "don't you think she'll be able to move on just fine without my new found... whatever you can call this." He let out a frustrated sigh, "how do I even know that you are, in fact, a ghost and not something in my head gone wrong."

"There goes that boy talkin' to himself again," Mchumba laughed from the far end of the living room. "I swear, it makes ya wonder who deserves the power 'round here."

Svana chuckled with her, "if only the King knew his brother-in-law was a lunatic."

"Let's not find out," Mchumba replied, "c'mon now, we'll clean the livin' room later."

Svana nodded, "agreed."

Emil gritted his teeth, "Olie, don't you think there would be other signs pointing to mental instability or something?"

Olie shrugged a shoulder, "maybe I fell over and hit my head on a rock or something and I just don't remember."

"Olie," Emil replied, "now that's just ludicrous."

"Emil, I just don't know!" he groaned in frustration. "How am I supposed to just bring that up in conversation with her? Oh hey Vreni, your dead husband says hi."

"Come on now," Emil shook his head. The room was silent a few moments before Emil decided to speak again, "I see this conversation isn't going anywhere right now. We'll talk later," he said before standing up from the couch. "I think us being able to see each other again is a gift," were his last words before vanishing into thin air.

Olie let out a sigh, "maybe to you," he said to himself before laying down on the couch. Consumed, still, with being able to see dead people, Olie closed his eyes and prayed Emil would be the only ghost he'd have to deal with.

Gravity

2011-06-09T06:10:53Z

The gardens within the castle walls were lush and full of large willow trees. Olie spent a considerable amount of time out in the gardens in general but he did have a favorite willow tree her preferred to lay under. If he wasn't listening to the swaying branches from the wind through the trees then he was surely napping.

Brushing his hand through the blades of grass, he looked toward the castle to see Vreni outside and making her way, it seemed, toward him. He was almost laying down so he decided to push himself up some so that his upper back was leaning against the trunk of the tree. "Afternoon," he greeted her when she was close, offering her a weak smile.

"Hello there," Vreni replied back once she was next to him. She knelt into the nearby grass and half-smiled back at him, "how are you today?"

Olie let out a sigh and let out a shrug of one of his shoulders. "Idunno," he told her, "same I guess."

"Yeah, me too," she agreed as she sank lower to the ground. She reclined onto the grass on her side with a hand on her head and the elbow on the grass. "What a depressing pair we make," she said with a laugh.

He reached a hand toward her and placed it in the grass, "do you think I should be doing something about it?"

She shook her head, "I've already told you before I do not want to tell you what to do. You have to make that decision for yourself."

"Well, what if you were in my position?" he asked her. He shook his head, "nevermind," he said to her before she could answer. "He would have never done something like that to you so it'd be impossible for you to imagine it."

Vreni nodded once in agreement, "even if I could imagine it, your brother is nothing like..." her words trailed off momentarily. "Your brother <i>was</i> nothing like my sister," she corrected herself. She now reached for his hand, "you know her and I have never been very close but I'd like to think she would never cheat on you."

Olie let out a breath. He began to close his fingers around hers, "I hope you're right."

"You know I always am," she grinned for a moment.

Olie's eyes widened dramatically, "that's the most I've seen you smile in a long time," he teased.

Vreni rolled her eyes, "yeah, yeah." She moved the arm she had been resting her head on so that she could lay flat on her back in the grass. She looked up into the branches full of waving leaves with the sun peeking through. "I don't think I can ever love again," she confessed to her former brother-in-law.

Olie was silent for a few moments unsure of what to say back to her. He thought of his brother, her dead husband, and imagined him walking up to join him under the tree like he always used to. "He's irreplaceable," Olie professed, "and if the day comes that you find someone else, not saying that you should or shouldn't, you will be capable of loving them." He thought a moment, "it doesn't mean you love Emil any less."

Vreni fell silent as her eyes began to tear up. She squeezed his hand as she choked out a few tears, "I just miss him so much," Vreni mumbled in a crackled voice.

"Oh Vreni," Olie whispered to her, "I didn't mean to make you upset."

Vreni shook her head, "it's okay, I'm okay," she told him. "I am upset that he is gone but I am so happy to have had the time with him that I did." She wiped at her face with her free hand. "I am happy to have experienced love and felt it fill my body. Sure it feels unreal that he is gone and I never once imagined what it'd be like without him but if I had I wouldn't of lived in the moment... I wouldn't of appreciated the time when he was here." She let out a laugh as her head flooded with memories of Emil, "he's gone but he still makes me happy." Vreni turned her head so that she was looking at Olie, "and you need to make sure that she does that for you. If you don't think she appreciates you then you have to find someone that does - it isn't fair... for either of you."

Olie smiled at her, his eyes too filled with tears. "Okay," he whispered to her, "okay," he repeated as he nodded. He wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat. "I'm glad you two shared such love," he said speaking up, "you deserve it. Both of you," he smiled again.

"Thank you," she mouthed to him. She let out a breath as she pulled herself closer to him, setting the side of her head on his leg. "Where would I be without you?"

He let out a laugh, "in a gutter for sure," he joked.

She too laughed as she lifted her head to let it fall back onto his leg. "You are terrible!" she told him. "You must've gotten that lip from him," she teased.

"Yeah," he confessed, "but in his defense he got it from Jess," he said not laughing harder. Vreni chuckled with him as she shook her head.

Kiss With a Fist

2011-06-09T05:01:46Z

The steaming, hot water poured from the bucket into the bath with a gentle splash. Svana slid her forearm across her forehead before setting the empty bucket down next to the tub with a sigh of relief. Svana, Hanne's nurse aid, had been caring for the strange twin for many years; filling Hanne's bath every night was the most tiresome task of the day but also the last.

Stepping out of the bathroom next to the twins' bedroom, Svana fetched Hanne and brought her to her evening bath. Hanne's vision was extremely poor and Svana, though she relatively enjoyed caring for her, did not understand how Hanne still could not find the bathroom on her own. Upon arriving back at the bathroom, as expected, Svana found Hilde there waiting in a chair next to the tub.

"Good evening Svana," Hilde said without looking, her eyes on the hot bath as one of her fingers played with the water.

"Good evening princess Hilde," Svana replied before offering a lame bow. She guided Hanne across the room until the young princess could hold onto the edge of the bathtub for point of reference.

"Oh," Hanne mumbled excitedly as her face lit up, "hello Hilde."

Hilde ignored her sister as she waved a hand at Svana, "I've got it from here." Hilde was responsible for caring for her sister every night until Hanne went to bed which was, typically, after the water in her tub was too cold to sit in any longer.

"Yes, princess Hilde," Svana responded before offering another bow. "Good night princess Hanne, good night princess Hilde."

Once Svana quietly exited the room, Hilde leaned back in her chair with a groan. "Alright, let's hurry this up."

Hanne smiled widely toward the direction her sister's voice came from. "I enjoy ending the day with a hot bath. It's like washing away-"

"Have you gone deaf now too?" Hilde interrupted. "Undress and get the fuck into your precious bath," she said with a groan before flicking some water at her sister. Hilde had never once enjoyed babysitting her helpless sister. What she disliked more was how her parents assumed Hilde, in fact, did enjoy spending this quality time with her sister.

"Oh," Hanne responded before disrobing and stepping slowly into the tub. "Three, three, three," she sang to herself as she lowered into the water. "So many threes," she said with a nod.

Hilde rolled her eyes, "in about three seconds I'm going to strangle you."

Hanne slid further into the water, "he isn't dead," she whispered.

"No, you're going to be dead," Hilde spat. She stood from the chair and paced next to the bathtub. "You know, you never make any damn sense."

"The fifth knows," Hanne mumbled on, "it knows, it knows," her voice rose as she spoke. She dipped her face into the water. "It knows the whore knows," she said while gargling water.

Hilde stood next to the tub above her sister, "what did you call me?" She leaned forward so that her face was close to her sisters, "did you just call me a whore?"

"You know too," Hanne mumbled under her breath, "I know you know that it knows the whore knows," her voice rose again into song, "I know you know that it knows the whore-" Hanne stopped singing when she felt Hilde smack her hard across the face.

She continued leaning over her sister as Hanne began to cry. "You," she whispered, "are my curse," she confessed. "Speak again and I will hold you under that water until you stop moving," she threatened.

Hanne turned her head slightly so that she could look her sister in the eye. She nodded once before sliding deeper into the water wearing a frown on her face. Hilde sat back in the chair and leaned over the side of the tub, reaching into the water. She pulled the plug in the drain, "times up," Hilde decided. Standing back up she threw a towel at her sister's head and walked out of the bathroom.

Hanne pulled the towel off her head and folded it over the side of the tub. She let out a pout as she sank lower in the water as it too lowered. She kissed at the water as a tear slid off one of her eyelids. "I wish, I wish," she whispered to herself.

Surprise Birthday Party for Vreni, Open to all

2011-05-31T20:08:07Z

Odilia and Vreni's strong bond was no secret to those of the Stave kingdom. When Emil's wife entered into Odilia's life the two were like magnets and instantly became close friends. At times it seemed the two women spent more time with each other than with their husbands. The sudden death of Emil brought the two women even closer together and soon Odilia was able to come to terms with the loss of her brother. Vreni on the other hand remained (and still remains) quite unhappy.

For weeks now Odilia has tried to cheer Vreni up but, though at times it seems to work, nothing seems to stick. With Vreni's birthday fast approaching Odilia has made plans for a surprise party in hopes that all the friendly faces will remind Vreni of the people she still has in her life.

The day seemed to arrive within a blink of an eye as Odilia still scrambled around the Great Hall trying her damnedest to make sure everything was perfect. Her nerves went almost caused her to burst when Mchumba notified her that guests were beginning to arrive. She all but fainted when she turned and realized Mchumba was telling the truth.

"Would you mind finishing this up?" Odilia said gesturing to the many vases of flowers placed throughout the hall she had been arranging and re-arranging for the past hour.

"Yes, my queen," Mchumba replied with a nod.

Odilia turned from Mchumba and began pointing other servants to other tasks she hadn't gotten to yet. "Please let this party be a success," she said to herself before rubbing her temples. "I need a drink."

Somewhere Only We Know

2011-02-19T19:55:06Z

What: Curiosity consumes Cecilia as a hooded figure makes yet another regular visit to a secret room in the dungeon
Where: The dungeon of the Stave castle
When: Friday night

Cecilia's unjust imprisonment, Christoph unaware of the false crimes tacked to her name, left her to rot in the dungeon of the Stave castle. She was transferred from the Arcane prison after the castle was deemed unfit to be lived in even for the incarcerated. Here in the Emporer's third son's home her only source of entertainment was watching people out in the yard from her tiny window, watching mice and cockroaches scurry about the dirt floor of her cell, or trying to strike up conversation with the guards that watched her day in and day out.

Occasionally, though, in the dead of night she was able to witness what had become a weekly ritual. A hooded figure would appear and make his or her way to (and then through) a hidden passageway in the dungeon. The hooded figure was never in there, whatever lied beyond the secret door, longer than an hour but Cecilia's curiosity about what was going on grew with each visit.

Cecilia watched as a black woman servant came down to deliver the guard a bite to eat and a drink as she always did every night. Cecilia never knew whether or not the servant was in on it but it was far too much of a coincidence that every night the hooded figure arrived it was shortly after the guard had eaten his dinner. Tonight was one of those nights Cecilia concluded as the guard, a few minutes after the servant left, fell off the side of his chair. With the guard dead asleep, the hooded figure appeared and made their way past Cecilia's cell to the entrance of the hidden passage.

"Hey!" she called before standing up from her bed, "what do you do down there?" The hooded figure stopped to look over at Cecilia for a quick moment before turning away and continuing on their way to the passage. "C'mon," she pleaded, "I won't tell anybody."

Ignoring Cecilia, the hooded figure pulled at a stone in the wall. A door opened in the wall and the hooded figure quickly slipped through into the passage. A long, dark corridor was through the opening and, at the other end, was another virtually unknown section to the dungeon.

Three things were in the dark, dank room that lied at the end of the corridor: a table, a box on the table, and a man chained to the wall in the corner. The hooded figure stepped over to the table and opened the box slowly. Near the latch to open the box was the name 'Seward' in faded, hand-written lettering. The box housed dirty and blunt or sharp tools and instruments.

The man in the corner of this hidden cell, locked up, looked ill from malnourishment. The man slowly looked up at the hooded figure as he heard the box being opened. Immediately the man began sobbing and pleading to be left alone. "Not again," he cried, "just leave me be, please."

The hooded figure, pulling a pair of pliers from the box, made his way over to the sobbing man. The dark figure paused for a moment as he stood before his prisoner. He then knelt down before the imprisoned man and pulled the hood off to reveal his identity to the shackled man. "Now what'd be the fun in that, big brother?" he asked devilishly.

It was obvious that the sickly looking man had never seen the figure with his hood off before as he looked at him in shock. "What? Why are you doing this, Kaspar?" he said, choking back the tears.

"Now, now this is no time for silly questions." He cleared his throat and held the pliers in front of the man's face as if it were a toy, "just give me your left hand; we're going to make those pretty fingernails match your right hand."

Erich looked down at his right hand, the fingernails missing, scabbed over, and still bleeding in spots. "Please," he whined, "not again."

Kaspar gritted his teeth and grabbed the man's left hand, "it wasn't a fucking request, Erich."

(Log) Sunday afternoons

2011-02-01T06:31:04Z

Who: Alistair and Ephrem Westerveldt
When: Sunday afternoon
Where: Swords Castle, Alistair's private quarters
What: Alistair and his son have a conversation.

Alistair paced his room as he flicked cards from all around. His mind was wandering, plotting, pondering what to do as he absentmindedly flicked, flicked,

"Father," Ephrem sighed sitting up on the couch. "You're driving me insane," he slipped a grin onto his lips.

Alistair stopped and looked over at his son. "Sorry about that Ephrem," he tucked the cards away into his coat. "I just got a little side tracked."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing, nothing important anyways," he shrugged. Of course he was lying, he was always scheming. His next plot involved getting him and his son a higher place in the world instead of being tucked away into a little corner of the Swords Kingdom until his home could be restored. He wanted more than that.

"Liar," Ephrem didn't need to see to know that his father was lying. Ever since he was blinded in the war his other senses had sharpened. He could hear more clearly than ever before, especially the tones and changes in a voice. "You're plotting something."

Alistair cursed the stars every day for blinding his son and injuring him in the war. The war had caused his son to lose his independence and his sight and it had also meant that Ephrem could hear better which meant that Alistair could never lie to the young man. Lying was something that Alistair had learned and something that he had always done. It was the reason why his marriage had ended, the reason why Ephrem and he had a strained relationship in the past, and the reason why he had gotten so far in life. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Ephrem, you know that everything I've done in this life has been for your betterment," that part actually held some truth to it. Alistair had done the best he could for his son. "Sometimes I just feel like you don't get it though, so I don't involve you in getting there. So as long as we get to where we need to be, you need not worry about your father and his plotting."

"There is danger in your ambition father."

Alistair grinned. "Of course there is."

(Log) Meeting of the minds

2011-02-01T05:05:28Z

Who: King Varvenis Westerveldt of Pentacles, Princess Maricosa Westerveldt of Pentacles, Queen Elizabeth of Swords and Prince Liam of Swords
When: Thursday morning
Where: Swords Castle
What: A marriage is arranged

The conversation had been a short and tense one. Liam had seen something like this coming for years. Elizabeth had informed Liam that his Uncle Varvenis was coming with Maricosa and they were to discuss a possible marriage arrangement. Elizabeth told Liam that she would give him as much time to come to terms with it, but it was basically finalized. "Why do you do this to me mother?" Liam asked holding his head in his hands. "All I want to do is read my books and travel."

"Sometimes my dear son we must make sacrifices to ensure a brighter future. And we must all do things we don't want to do to ensure the suffering of our enemies," Elizabeth said simply.

"What enemies?"

Elizabeth only smiled. The precious Queen Bariah couldn't possibly put one of her own children on the throne if Maricosa was still in line to the Pentacles throne and Liam could have two armies behind him if he was ever in the need. It was a win-win. So Elizabeth arranged everything to make sure Varvenis and Maricosa would be comfortable. She had tea and sandwiches made and brought into the two rooms that they would be occupying. Liam and Elizabeth sat in two high backed chairs as they waited for their guests.

When Varvenis had informed Maricosa of their travel plans, and the reason for the sudden visit, she was over the moon. She began packing immediately, directing the servants to prepare her finest gowns so that she may impress her betrothed, and to retrieve her travelling cloak from storage.

Varvenis had allowed her to choose a necklace from her late mother's parure for the occasion, and after a short argument she was permitted to take her tiara. The king preferred to travel without his crown; lest it be lost or stolen. The argument over the cat, however, he won. It would not travel with them.

The Ayatollah was summoned to bless a chest of coins which would be taken along as the traditional dowry. The King could not remember if a dowry was still custom in his siblings' kingdoms, but it was in his.

After much fuss, the party left Pentacles Castle; King, Princess, and a slew of servants and guardsmen. A two-day ride found them in Swords territory, and, after another day's ride, within the gates of Swords Castle. The Swords Guards greeted them most impressively as they passed through to the entrance hall, dismounting to enter the castle itself.

The small entourage was greeted by Elizabeth's personal assistant Lily who brought them into Elizabeth and Liam's personal sitting room. "Brother," Elizabeth stood, she was genuinely glad to see Varvenis, it had been quite some time since they had seen each other. "How are you?" she asked giving him a big hug.

Liam stood and shook his Uncle's hand. "Uncle," he said solemnly.

Varvenis hugged his little sister back; he was always glad to see her. "Being driven to the depths of madness!" He replied in response to her question, before taking his nephew's proffered hand and pulling him into a great bear hug. "Good to see you, my boy!"

Maricosa stood behind her father shyly. It had been years since they had last visited with their Swords relatives, and she had not seen Liam in all of that time anyway; Finn had taken him and Ebilene goose hunting and left her in the castle. She thought him quite a handsome young man, and envisioned a grand wedding.

After a few moments of being ignored, she kicked the back of her father's boot to induce him to present her.

Liam hugged his uncle back and was not surprised by his uncle's strength. He laughed a little bit as he stepped back and noticed the girl standing behind his uncle. "Good to see you uncle," he smiled.

Elizabeth saw her niece and remembered vaguely that although the girl was quite a beauty she was a handful once her mouth opened. She smiled kindly, hoping to coax her out of her shyness.

Mari needed little more invitation than that; flinging herself into her aunt's arms. "Lady Elizabeth, I missed you so much!" Elizabeth had made sure Maricosa was occupied that last summer she had visited, teaching her how to shoot a bow and arrow in the courtyard and admiring her amateurish attempts at embroidery. The mere memory of her attention was far more motherly than her stepmother's actual presence.

"Daddy," she hissed quietly.

Varvenis took the hint. "Prince Liam," he said formally. "May I present to you my daughter, Princess Maricosa?" He took Mari's hand and brought her to his side, before the young prince.

Elizabeth hugged Maricosa back, although she could be quite a bit sometimes, Elizabeth had grown fond of her. "Look how you have grown," Elizabeth admired her as she stepped back.

"Princess Maricosa," Liam said quietly. He stood awkwardly for a moment. "It's so very nice to meet you," he was never very good with formalities, he rarely ever introduced himself with his title so it was all very strange to him indeed. "You're looking... well," he decided to add on at the end. All he wanted to hit himself in the forehead but contained his composure with a forced smile.

Mari could not wipe the grin from her face, though she tried very hard to act like a young lady meeting her betrothed for the first time. She curtsied and batted her eyelashes at him shyly. "My Lord. You can call me Mari if you like."

Again Liam stood in stock silence trying to think of anything to make the situation less awkward. "Um... alright... Mari," he smiled again. "You my call my Liam," that was one thing that would make him feel more comfortable.

Elizabeth placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "Why don't you take our dear Mari to your reading room and show her the books," she suggested. Varvenis and she had some logistics to discuss and as much as she knew Liam would rather be a part of that discussion she knew it was best for them to carry on alone. "It's right over there," she said pointing to the open double doors so that Varvenis knew nothing inappropriate would conspire. "And outfitted with tea and sandwiches," she added with a smile.

Liam nodded. "Right," he said. He started to turn but remembered it might be best to offer his arm. As he did he smiled again. "Would you like to accompany me to the reading room?"

Mari looked over her shoulder quickly for her father's word on the matter; he nodded almost imperceptibly and she joyfully linked arms with Liam, clinging to his side like a favourite sword.

Varvenis heard her say 'I like books!' as they departed for the reading room, though he couldn't for the life of him recall the last time he'd seen her pick up a book. He supposed she was doing her best to make a common interest.

He turned back to his sister. "She has been as gay as a spring parade since I told her the news. Let us hope Liam can handle her."

Elizabeth laughed warmly. "He's the strong, silent type, I think they might even each other out," she said. "Come sit with me," she motioned to the empty chairs and made herself comfortable. "Mari is such a nice girl and has grown quite a lot since I last saw her."

"It has been nearly seven years." He hadn't traveled with his family since... well. Not with his new wife and daughter. There were tensions in the family.

He switched subjects quickly. "You've taught her well; she's a fine archer. Striking moving targets at a distance, just like you." He had amusing memories of his sister's potential husbands being chased from the Arcane Castle by a flurry of arrows from her bedchamber window. In that way, she was not like Maricosa at all. "If only she had taken to leisurely pursuits so well. But, to the matters at hand."

Varvenis produced an enormous iron-bound chest from the folds of his cloak. "A dowry. If you will not accept it, I will gift it to the children."

Elizabeth smiled, she loved seeing a woman able to protect herself with a bow. "She was a most excellent student," Elizabeth knew that under the guidance of her new step mother she would probably not be allowed to practice such arts.

"I admire her romanticism," Elizabeth said honestly. She didn't know how the girl could have such ideas in her head after everything the pentacles had gone through. "It's endearing," she said.

She saw the chest before her. "Perhaps the children would find a better use for it than I. I'm just a simple woman, you know me, no need for such gifts."

"Very well." Varvenis had been fairly certain that his sister would not accept the token gift. "They can use it to start a household. Is there no compensation you will take?" Though on paper their children were an ideal match, he could not help but wonder if the match was being made at the expense of Liam's own wishes; perhaps he was already courting a lady. Varvenis had himself been lucky enough to arrange his own marriage to his first wife, whom he had truly loved.

"I expect Mari will become a citizen of Swords? Liam would be expected to convert to Temperance should they settle in Pentacles territory; and I'd not force that on him."

"As long as our children have an assured future and are healthy I will be happy," Elizabeth said. She was sure that Varvenis would not want to force Liam into a marriage without compensating but she also knew that Liam would not except a gift.

"Liam has expressed his wishes to stay in the Kingdom of Swords as he is in line to the throne and feels he has a duty to the people. I hope Mari will feel at home here." Elizabeth thought to herself that the girl would gain the same freedom as the women in the swords kingdom. As much as Elizabeth loved her brother, she could never live under the rules of his kingdom, it was far too strict and stuck behind the times for her.

Varvenis nodded. "I am certain she will. She likes to dance, and run wild unchaperoned. It won't raise eyebrows here, as it does at home." He thought on the necessities. "Mari's handmaidens will stay with her. I can provide a household of servants should they settle in the manor in the south of Swords." The Pentacleon people were not terribly adventurous, and did not like to stray far from their native territory.

"Of course, whatever she needs," Elizabeth said. "Liam prefers to do his own housework so I think however many you think Mari will need should suffice," Elizabeth said.

"Liam and I have been talking about where he would like to live but he would like to discuss it with Mari. He is a very sensitive young man and doesn't want to just throw Mari into a completely new situation where she has no say."

"I do not think she cares, so long as she is able to play attentive wife," he confided. "She would move to the battlefront if that is where she found a husband. Though, it is hard to say whether she will bow to her ideal of married acquiescence or give in to her independent demands."

"I feel comfort that it is Liam she will be with because I know he would not take advantage of her acquiescence," Elizabeth said honestly. She hated to see a battered or dependent wife.

"I feel that she may grow to love independence in our home," Elizabeth smiled. "Especially under my guidance."

Varvenis laughed heartily. "I have no doubt you will find more than enough independence in her, waiting to be cultivated." Her mother had been so, even adhering to strict Temperant law.

"I cannot offer your son a title; the Pentacleons only recognize patrilineal ascendancy." This meant that while his son's theoretical wife could become Queen of Pentacles, his daughters theoretical husbands could not. "He would of course be recognized as Mari's titled husband, but I cannot give him a Pentacleon title."

Elizabeth smiled, it was good to know there was an independent fire inside the young girl. Maybe Liam would end up being happy with her in the end.

"Liam is not looking for any more titles," Elizabeth said sincerely. "He barely goes by the title he has here."

"Then it is settled! We have a most agreeable arrangement. For when shall we plan the most happy occasion?"

"I don't want to get the poor girl all excited and do this to her but I think it would be best to give them some time to get used to the idea. Perhaps a year would be best, then Mari would be slightly older, most of our girls get married around sixteen or seventeen and it would give Liam some time to figure out where they should live," Elizabeth suggested. "And of course we should have an engagement celebration very soon to soften the length of the engagement."

"Of course." Varvenis couldn't imagine Liam wanting to sign his freedom over right away anyway. He was an eligible young bachelor; a prince at that-- he had much playing around to do, much sowing of seeds. The time would come for him to settle. And Mari; though she wished so desperately to be wed Varvenis couldn't stomach the thought of such a young child-- his daughter, furthermore-- performing... wedding night duties. "She will understand; though she may fuss to begin with."

Elizabeth was relieved as she remembered bits of last nights discussion with Liam again. I will not consummate any marriage with her! She is far too young! He was right but it really was the best option for him. "Then it's settled," Elizabeth said. "With the help of my personal assistant and the royal entertainer, my two very best friends, we should be able to pull together a party by the end of the week."

(Letters exchange) King Varvenis of Pentacles and Queen Elizabeth of Swords

2011-02-01T04:49:48Z

Dearest sister,
I hope this letter finds you well. I write that I may ask a favor of you. My dear Maricosa has yet again expressed her wish to be married and has charged me with the task of finding her an acceptable suitor. I cannot think of any young man in the empire I would sooner trust with my daughter's hand that that of your son Liam. Bariah is of course completely opposed to the idea, but I feel in this instance that my wisdom far exceeds hers. Please think favorably upon my request, for Mari's sake.

Yours, Varvenis

-----

Dearest Varvenis,

I think your proposal is a good one. You have always been wise of character my brother and I trust your judgment. Liam is a most excellent match for your Mari and I know he would take good care of her. The two of them could be insured a very bright future if they get married. I think it may be best if we have a meeting in person before we set anything in motion.

Yours, Elizabeth

-----

Dearest Elizabeth,

You are as always the voice of reason. I will have a traveling party prepared to set off immediately, and we shall make all haste to Swords on the morrow. Mari will be most excited to see you-- and, of course, her bethrothed.

Yours, Varvenis

(Log) A promise to promise

2011-02-01T04:44:36Z

Who: King Varvenis Westerveldt and Princess Maricosa Westerveldt
When: Saturday morning
Where: Throne Hall, Pentacleon Castle
What: Mari bends her father's ear

King Varvenis had been having this argument with his daughter Maricosa for three years now, and she was most definitely wearing down his patience.

“Daddy!” She stamped her foot impatiently. “You must let me debut this year!”

“Mari,” he said evenly. “You are only fifteen.”

“I am fifteen,” she continued, her voice pitching to a whine. “I will be an old spinster soon!”

The King sighed, and patted the arm of his chair. Mari threw herself onto it and continued begging. “Please Daddy. I should like to have a suitor before it is too late! Finny will never marry, and Ebi’s for Temperance now. Don’t you want any ancestors?”

“Descendants,” he corrected her absent-mindedly, and she took that as affirmation that yes, he did want them.

“I will make such an excellent bride, and you keep me from it! Why won’t you let me marry?”

He tried a different tact. “My dear, you are a princess. To whom could we wed you with any guarantee they would provide for you?” His wife had suggested some of the nobleman warriors of the kingdom as potential suitors. He did not dislike them, but they were far too old for Maricosa, and furthermore, not at all accustomed to indulging a princess. “The noblemen of this kingdom are far beyond your age.”

Mari buried her face in his thick, ermine mantle and whimpered. “Then look to the other kingdoms,” she pleaded. She had heard that men of the other kingdoms were far more modern than those of the Pentacleon territory anyway. They allowed such things as dancing and drinking, and all that was forbidden to her as an unmarried Temperant in Pentacles. “You are wise, Daddy, I will marry any man you choose for me.”

Though she did not know it, therein lay the problem. Queen Bariah was more than happy to marry her off to any commoner come calling, simply to be rid of her constant mooning of her ‘spinster’ status. King Varvenis would have none of that. His daughter was a princess, and a beautiful one at that. She would marry well, to a man of high social standing. None less than a Duke, certainly; or whatever passed for such title in his brothers’ kingdoms.

“I will think on it,” he said finally begrudgingly. This was, to Princess Maricosa, a world of improvement over the simple rebuffs she had been dealt previously. Her father was a man of his word—if there was a gentleman out there he deemed a suitable match, he would arrange a marriage. She pressed a delighted kiss to his stubbly cheek, and made haste to her bedchamber to prepare the cat for a wedding.

(Log) Girls will gossip

2011-02-01T04:41:53Z

Who: Faiz and Tarven
When: Wednesday afternoon
Where: Outside the blacksmith, Pentacles city
What: They talk religion and demonstrate moral obligations

"The Mumtaz asked after you," Faiz grinned wickedly and sat delicately astride the fence outside the blacksmith. "She said she's never seen you take revelation, not once."

Tarven groaned. If the Mumtaz had noticed he'd not been taking revelation at the monastery, then the Ayatollah would probably have noticed too, and then he'd be dragged in with the transgressors for punishment. "I shouldn't have to take revelation if I haven't anything to reveal." He scowled and laid another rod in the furnace.

The blonde slave's grin grew wider still. "Is that so? What about Meriam from the dairy farm?"

"What about her?" With all the work her master put her through, Tarven did wonder how Faiz managed to find so much time to gossip.

"She swears up and down you and she made temptation just this Monday! Honestly, I was a little offended. She's very plain you know; and I'm local."

"What?!" He dropped the rod he was moving in the furnace, too deep to pull out while the fire raged. "I did never! That girl's a liar. And you owe me a length of iron."

Faiz laughed loudly; the eastern lilt to her voice distinct above the city noise. "Aye, you can give me a length and we'll call it even."

"You peddle filth just as much as your master, Faiz."

She shrugged, indifferent to the accusation. "If it buys my freedom." She shifted off the fence with deceptive grace as he moved to shove her out of the way, handing him the enormous leather glove he was reaching for as she did so. "You're going to put your hand in the fire?"

"Sooner the fire than your master's purse," he muttered. A flash burn was nothing compared to the lashing Faiz would get if he did demand a replacement of her.

She did not respond, instead bunching up the hem of her dress and soaking it in the trough by the furnace; ready to tear off strips for bandages should he come out of it with a burn. He was one of the only other people in the town to treat her as a person; any other would have simply demanded resitution for the lost metal even knowing that it would earn her a savage beating, if not worse. But she supposed that's why she and Tarven were friends; because he'd put his hand in the fire for her, and were she ever in the position to do the same, she would.

Crazy Doesn't Run in the Family. Promise.

2011-01-31T11:35:50Z

"Evening Eve
It stoops and bows
For the Empress
Divine, so fine
Full of magic
No one knows."

Eve raised a hand to her brow, a sad little shake of her head for the court that stood still for Adelle's little command performance. Her sister stood in the hall, hands on her plain white skirt and holding it out as if it were a grand ball gown. Adelle danced from side to side, singing to greet her sister. There were bits of flower stems caught in her tangled hair and a smudge of dirt across the shoulder that hung out of her loose fitting top.

The House of Cups had hosted the House Arcane as their guests for three months now and still they had not grown accustomed enough to Adelle's outbursts to simply ignore them. That's how it was in the House Arcane; people paid little notice to the poor, crazy girl.

Whether or not Adelle realized people were paying attention to her now, Eve couldn't tell. She was grateful that no one believed her rambling insanity, because more often than not it was true. Secrets fell from the High Priestess' lips, buried among gibberish. The title had been given to her in her youth, before she'd gone fully insane.

It was a terribly thing to watch someone you loved, or might have loved once, slowly fade into themselves and exist in a shell. Adelle's shell was sing-song, sprinkled with erratic dancing and wild hair, spontaneous poetry recitations in the hallway. She wasn't the bright and beautiful girl anymore, only the poor, mad little sister. Unfit for anything other than being left to wander in the fields to pick flowers and crack some more.

Eve managed to hush her, putting a cool hand on her shoulder and pushing her gently from the room. She was not so gentle when they were out of earshot, away from people. "Haven't I told you not to sing in the halls?" she growled, shoving her sister into a spare bedroom.

"Sing-song. All day long." Adelle shrugged. "Secrets made. Secrets kept. Can't catch up to me yet!"

"Fuck. My. Life. What I wouldn't do for a husband for you."

"Sing-song!" Adelle said excitedly, reacting to the rhyme in Eve's frustrated words. She clapped her hands happily, excited.

Eve clapped her hands for a moment, mocking her very sick sister. "Oh yay! Clap your hands and dance you stupid fool." She fumbled on her waist for a key. She'd gotten a set of master keys with a bit of bribery for the house mistress. "Sit," she commanded, pointing to the well dressed bed.

Adelle did as she was told for once, flopping onto the bed and looking at her sister with her head tilted. "Beware the handmaiden. She has eyes and ears." She whispered this as if it were some state secret.

"I'm not as dimwitted as you, my dear. Everyone in this house has eyes and ears." She moved to the door and sighed. "I'll come for you later." She locked the door behind her and was happy to forget Adelle for a little while, not having to witness anymore of her madness.

23 Years Ago, The Seward's Childhood Home

2011-01-31T11:31:57Z

"Fiona darling, don't slump."

"I'm not slumping daddy," she replied, putting on her best pout face. She did however sit up straighter before sipping her tea. Her hands moved elegantly about her plate, cutting her meat with fine precision before taking the smallest bite to her lips. She even dabbed her mouth with her napkin, looking to please her father with the manners she had learned.

"And for heaven's sake Leopold, take your elbows off the table."

Leopold didn't reply to his father, only turned enough to give him that forlorn look before slowly sliding his elbows into his lap. He barely ate, odd for a boy. He seemed to grow in spite of his miserable appetite, but he was slim just the same, never very muscular.

His mother looked sympathetically at the young boy. Azrael couldn't look at her when she made that simpering face. "Catherine if you constantly baby him he will never learn table manners. How are we to get him an appointment in the Emperor's service when he's such a slovenly little creature?"

The way he said Emperor with such reverence… It sent chills down young Fiona's spine. How she longed to be appointed to her father's job, the High Inquisitor of the Emperor. This was an unspoken dream, though it was well known by Azrael. He could read his children like the Cups read their tea leaves.

Leopold would be a sensitive artist, hardly marriageable to anyone important, maybe a third daughter, maybe a fourth. No aspiration for power, or ability to take it, Leopold had a quiet destiny.

Fiona on the other hand was almost a perfect successor to her father's position. Damned that she be born a girl, held from her destiny by her sex. Azrael knew it was a bit too soon to train her, but before long he would begin in secret to teach her the art of inquisition and execution, that dulcet work often called torture. It was his life's work, his first love. He had to pass it on to someone; he was secretly pleased that his daughter had an interest and that she might prove a worthy candidate to learn his trade.

A shame about his son though, and his wife. She had certainly outlived her usefulness. Azrael knew, with some grim pleasure, that his wife wasn't much longer for this world. She had the wasting disease; they could all see it. Catherine didn't eat much, had grown thinner than her son. She was pale and weak, hardly able to make her face quirk into that pretty smile that Azrael fell for. He was almost sad, more relieved. Once Catherine was gone he'd make one last effort to raise his son into a proper man, but he was positive it was a losing battle. Then he'd begin Fiona's training in earnest.

Strange that his children's futures hung so delicately on his wife's impending death; stranger still, he thought, that his own future would be entirely unchanged by this loss.