Rolling out the Red Carpet

[Noku Noru]

Beams of sunlight break through the colonnades, glittering off falling dust and the polished surfaces of the King's royal throne room. Upon the throne, Noku. Before him, a crimson carpet edged in gold; the thread of the finest gossamer, and over 200 years old. Spanning the width of the throne pedastal, and tapering into the corridor, it runs like a motionless river of fresh spilled blood to the massive double doors at the entrance to the throne room, dividing the rows of seats intended for the lesser nobles. Reclining on his right arm, extending himself in a casual fashion, the King is attended to by three women in loose, white robes, examining his bandaged shoulder. In his hand, the royal chalice. Upon his shoulders, robes of purple set starkly against black detail and edged in gold, falling away on the left to expose the upper part of his breast-revealing a neat bandaging with a small point of crimson at the center.

The King has been silent these three days since the return of his Royal Guard, pacing the corridors of the palace, attended by the Noru family physicians, chalice in hand, disdain in his countenance, and malice in his gaze. A tremor now runs through the palace, and whispers and rumors float among the populace outside the castle walls: Noku has summoned to his chamber the regents, advisers, and officers of his court. Noku has been known for his moodiness in times of distress, but not for silence on any matter. His particular demeanor, therefore, has set all the summoned, and all who have heard about it, to a level of apprehension that is palpable in the very air, like the faint charge of electricity before a potent storm. The bustle of many hands of servants and caretakers trembles down every hallway like the vibrations of a beehive; its workers ardently but hushedly tending to their many tasks. Murmurs in half-whisper mingle with this shuffling, raising it to a thrumming, and in the busiest chambers it can be felt in the chest. The throne room, however, is nearly silent.

The pressing arrival of Lucinda, Princess of Palico, escalates the tensions felt by all the inhabitants of the city, and the taverns abound with clandestine conversation over mugs of ale and piles of beef on the statuses of the economies, taxation, and power struggles of the region-all speculation, but taken to heart regardless of founding. Nova is buzzing. Every word Noku has refused to speak has brought forth a multitude in turn from every member, high and low, of his vast and unparalleled citizenry. And the King yet sits silent on his throne, rapping his ringed signet fingers against the filigree of his royal chalice-as yet unrefreshed-and boring holes into the marble of the grand doors with his unmoving, malignant gaze.

[Deleted]

The room was quiet, an air of tension about it. Melda sat a good distance away from her king, glancing at him more often than the door. It had been a hectic couple of weeks, from the incident, the “trial” and the outburst, to now waiting for the Princess of Palico. The king must have a lot on his plate. Melda had never been incredibly close with him, but she admitted to herself long ago that if she were to respect any man, her king was first on the list. A respect for power seemed more fitting of a title in her mind.

Melda sat tall, her shoulders and back straight and her chin held high. Her silver locks piled neatly atop her head, styled into an up-do of braids, not a single strand straying from it’s place. A silver ringlet sitting in it's place on her head, resting coldly against her forehead, it's turquoise gem glimmering in the sunlight. Her icy eyes held a blueish hue today, fitting with the mood and situation. Matching quite nicely, she wore a silver blue dress, the neckline not daring to inch past her collarbone, the sleeves reaching her wrists, and her hem line exactly at her ankles. Black shoes on her feet, resting patiently on the floor in front of her. Her hands her folded in her lap, though she fidgeted silently, twirling her ring on her middle finger, round and around.

Glancing away from the door once more, she saw yet again her king tapping his fingers over and over on the arm of his throne, and though she remained aloof to it, she felt like twitching. Melda blinked and forced herself to look away, wishing the sound of her blood pumping through her veins would be louder than the incessant tapping. She knew everyone had their quirks, but the otherwise silence in the room certainly wasn’t helping. She stifled a sigh and locked her eyes back on the doors, taking in —for the hundredth time— the ornate detail upon it. She hoped the Princess arrived soon, if only to break the silence. She would do so herself, but what would she say? She wondered if the king every actually remembered who she, the Duchess, was. It was possible, but she took no offence if he did not— a king has much bigger things to know and worry about, especially in the times they were in now.

[Deleted]

Aria padded along with Garrett; her hair was soaked from her morning bath and loosely braided and slung over one shoulder. When it was wet her hair seemed black, only when light shown on it could you tell it was deep red in color. She wore an oversized guard’s uniform shirt, under the wide neckline you could see that her shoulder was heavily bandaged. She had chosen to let the rest heal naturally; really she didn’t trust healers not to fuck something up. After all she didn’t quite think phiorics muscles and anatomy was exactly the same as a humans…not with the rigorous changing that a phiorics went through on a daily basis. Along her neck and wrist you could see fresh slightly pink skin from where her shackles use to be, the cuts had healed nicely and eventually the marks would fade. Aria also wore some black pants that actually fit her and were clean. Her feet were actually in shoes; a simple pair of black boots. When they entered the throne room Aria made sure to stay behind and close to Garrett….she had not been expecting a large group of people to be gathered.

[severine]

Severine stood proper close to the throne, Aveline behind her. The tall woman towered higher than usual in her high headdress, pinned together with silks and jewels. She was constricted, wrapped tight in dark clothing to keep her warm- even in the summer months she still felt a chill. Her daughter stood behind her in silks of dove gray and blue, her hair intricately braided and pinned with jewels. Aveline’s eyes swept the crowd of courtiers, waiting for the princess to arrive. She had never seen the girl herself, but heard of her beauty. Her mother was clearly holding back her fit of anger, but she had seen it in private the past few days. The girl would probably be engaged to his Majesty soon- the courtiers and advisors were beginning to become weary of his refusal to take a wife.

A servant approached and leaned to Severine, whispering something into her ear- Sir Garrett had returned. And he had brought a Fated girl with him. A prisoner. Severine turned her head sharply to the servant, then over to his Majesty, scowling. She had a duty to protect his Majesty above all others.

Aveline leaned forward as her mother leaned back to close her eyes and listen as her mother whispered to her. "I must see to something personally. Stay at his Majesty's side."

The young woman watched her mother go and she took a step forward with trepidation, taking her mother's place. Severine, on the other hand, began her warpath through the throng of courtiers to the front of the throne room. When she saw them- Sir Garrett returned with the small scarred woman beside him. A sort of snarl came over her face at the sight of her- the same face one might make when smelling something unpleasant.

“Sir Garrett.” Severine turned her gaze to him, forcing a smile through gritted teeth. “Back from the dead, I see. His Majesty will be most pleased to see you… unscathed.” she looked him up and down, then scowl returning for a brief instant. “But you cannot bring vermin to his Majesty. Not today. Bring the Fated girl to the dungeons and we will speak about this later.”

[Roland]

Roland scanned the crowd. The number of attempts on the king's life as of late had been unnaturally high, and he did not care for a repeat of what happened at the Ball. The royal and mage guard captain stood in his customary position off a little ways from the throne. His posture was formal and for once his dusty black leather coat was nowhere to be seen. Instead he stood stood at his full height with a black and grey brocade vest over top a stiff and formal cream colored cotton shirt. His pants were also grey and a long sword was strapped to his belt. In addition to this for once Roland had taken the time to shave and comb his hair back which served to make him look a bit less severe and distinctly less like a very belligerent alchemist.

Upon seeing Aria Roland manages to give off the distinct impression of a groan without moving a single muscle, but his eyes are again drawn to the girl as she and Advisor Severine have a brief exchange. This was not going to end well. Though his expression darkens as he ponders the girl's presence. Garrett should have known better than to bring her to such a public venue.

Roland considers intervening with Severine's demand, but thinks better of it. Technically Aria was no longer a prisoner, the Fated who complied with his majesty's demands regarding questions were set free when they were deemed to no longer be a threat. Aria had been kept in the castle due to special circumstance, but she was now under observation. After all she had committed no crime.

The royal guard captain continued to scan the room and expanded his magical sense to cover the full thing. He had already set up a teleportation ward, but he needed to be careful.

[Lucinda Noru]

It had been a long journey through Manna Gorge and the Forest but after almost a week, the Princess had finally made it to the kingdom in Teair. She had arrived early that morning and was shown to her quarters within the main castle. Lucinda wanted to look her best for her official arrival and took a short nap followed with a bath.

She had a handmaid assist her with tying her corset, dressing, and doing up her hair. The dress she picked out for the occasion was a beautiful royal purple with silver and black embroidery on the hem and sleeves. It had a sweetheart neckline and short sleeves but reached down to the floor almost. It wasn’t one of her favorites, but it befitted her station. She had her tied up in an elegant bun with black ribbon, leaving a few pieces around her face. She wore an elaborate silver necklace that appeared to be elven in design. After slipping on her black summer shoes, Lucinda left to make her way to the throne room.

The castle was not much changed since her childhood visits and so the throne room was easy enough to find. She stood outside the doors a moment, nervous, and trying to calm her breathing which was slightly difficult with the corset. The two sentry men posted on either side of the doors seemed to ignore her until she gestured for them to open the doors. Lucinda entered the throne room, looking calm and collected with a slight smile.

She paused just inside the room, awed by the architecture and the silence. The room was grand, beautiful in the sunlight that shone through the windows and danced among the columns. There was a beautiful, luscious, blood red carpet that divided the room and ran the length of it to the throne. The marble was exquisite and made a lovely backdrop and contrast to everything else in the room. It seemed the whole court must be assembled here, most on either side of the room in appropriate seating. The king’s personal advisers at his side as well as a few ladies tending to his injury and a very serious, perhaps middle aged gentlemen, just a bit behind the throne. She assumed that was his personal bodyguard of sorts.

A quieter commotion off to the side drew her attention to a group of three: a pretty young girl, obviously injured; a man who seemed to be her guard or possibly her husband and a woman who, despite being obviously high ranking, seemed to be acting beneath herself and whose face was quite unpleasant. Lucinda recognized the woman after a moment as the Arch Duchess, Severine, and pondered to herself as to what she was doing making such a scene. She frowned, disappointment clear on her face at the woman’s behavior. No matter the grievance of the couple, and so they seemed to be to her, this was not the time or place for such an intervention.

Turning her attention to his majesty Noku, and noted that he looked rather angry as well, which she assumed to be caused by the Arch Duchess's behavior. I think Duke Talrin has been the happiest person I’ve seen so far, she thought to herself. Her grace and poise, however, seemed unaffected by the air of tension. Contrary actually to the unhappiness of the room, she was smiling. Her blonde hair shone in the sunlight and her blue eyes twinkled with youth. She bowed before her new king and waited for him to speak, as was appropriate.

[Deleted]

Speak of the Talrin and he will appear. Finn saunters into the palace through one of the other entrances. The arch-duke was dressed in a sage green coat of fine satin, with white trim and a feather pattern brocaded in golden thread. A hint of lace tastefully peeked out at the cuffs attached to a creamy silk undershirt with a green satin vest of the same color as the coat. His trousers were made of a stouter cotton of the highest quality and his buttons and belt buckle were created from the claw of a great dragon the skin of which was used to make his soft brown leather boots. At his belt was an ornate carving knife, as many of the noble men wore, carved into the shape of a falcon.

Finn had taken the time since their return to wash and groom himself. His hair was now tied back though a single wisp of his bangs were allowed free and fell so perfectly that it was clearly a fashion statement that had required careful styling. His beard was cleaned into a tasteful goatee and upon his chest was pinned his house crest and the insignia marking him as the first sword to the Legion of the Falcon.

Upon entering the hall Finn takes stock of what is going on and grins. It certainly was lively in here, but frowning would only add to the stiff mood. He gracefully strides over to one of the tables and takes one of the cups, he bore every bit of the dukely dignity and entitlement that was the staple of the privileged.

[Noku Noru]

As the adviser to the crown steps into the hallway before Garrett, breaking the immaculate silence of the throneroom, Noku waves off his attendants and rises, placing his chalice on the arm of the throne, and settling his robe into a prim state. He steps forward, descending from the pedestal, a few paces towards Garrett and the fated woman, his eyes trained upon Severine. Presently, the announcement of Lucinda's presence in the royal throne room draws his attention, and his foul expression breaks into an amiable grin.

"Luucciiinddaaa, how-good-to-see-you-my-dear-cou-sin! How is your seclusive brother these days?" He approaches her with open arms, raising her and taking her hand, kissing it lightly in a formal expression of fealty. "It pleases me so to behold a cheerful face amongst my court this morrow-as you can see, we are almost completely befouled in mood of late." Noku makes a sweeping motion with his arm, indicating all present. "It pains me to say, there has been a bit of...misfortune among my kingdom. We shall arrive at that, presently, however."

Noku turns, his detestable expression returning, and glides past Severine to the throne. Taking up his chalice, he addresses Severine, his brow stern, but a handsome smile on his lips: "It is true the words you speak in my presence, vermin most, certainly, will, not be tolerated in the presence of the king. How fitly spoken; a toast! To you" he extends his arm with the chalice toward his adviser, holding it at full length "for your ardent efforts in ridding my grand kingdom of all such vermin who put a stain upon the royal blood of the Noru dynasty." Noting the archduke's presumption with the wine, he casts a look to the side at him, the smile leaving. He raises his voice a little louder, obviously directing it toward the edge of the room. "I would HOPE that those who wish to raise such a glass have the COURTESY to acknowledge the toast aforehand." He then returns his attention to Severine, the smile returning.

"Drink. I insist. This is the draught of the royal vine, particular to my bloodline, and kept close by my side at all times." He places the chalice into Severine's hands and stands erect, beaming, his brow still retaining its granite form. His golden eyes fall upon Aria, Garrett, and Roland, bestowing a quick glance before returning to address the rest of his court.

Noku looks down to his fingertips, pinching them together and picking at a fleck of dirt while he speaks.

"Can any member of this court who was in attendance the day of the incident at the Gallows describe to me, in any detail, the events which took place?" He looks around at the court, his stance erect, but his poise loosened. "Come now, after all, you must have SOME vague idea as to why it is you have been summoned before me in this fashion to-day."

[Deleted]

The silence was finally broken— a ragged woman shuffled into the room, and all eyes were immediately on her. She was with Garrett, whom Melda knew of vaguely- she hardly associated with him. Her eyes looked over the woman— stunning hair, changing colours from red to black as she moved forward and sunbeams danced across her. Her clothes seemed loosely fitted for the most part, and it was obvious she was injured. The woman turned her head slightly, and Melda’s eyes widened slightly, her scar a shock. The woman stuck close to Garrett’s side, and Melda cocked an eyebrow at the implications that position could hold. The tension in the air shifted slightly as Severine made her way —gracefully, as always— to the red woman. Her’s was the first voice to chime out in the room, seeming to bounce off the walls. Melda could not see her face, but the tone of her voice made it clear she was beyond displeased. The red woman was to be sent away— she was Fated? Of course she was, it made sense to her now. Why else would she be dragged into the Throne room, ragged as she was? 

Melda had stopped fidgeting with her ring, and her hands sat still now, on her lap. The only part of her that moved was her neck and head as she turned to watch the events play out, and her eyes as they scanned the room countless times. Doing so, Melda saw the look on the Kings face upon the Fated’s arrival, and the stoic look on the Captains. It looked as though things would remain in this gloomy, doomsday mood, or at least until the Princess of the hour made her entrance. The silence was once again torn, but in a much lighter mood as the King left his throne and met the Princess as she arrived, his voice high and excited to see someone he clearly cared for. A small smile made its way onto Melda’s lips— such an act of adoration for the young girl, she couldn’t help but smile. It was clear that the Princess— Lucinda, she now recalled— was close to the Kings heart, even if she did not know as such.

Yet even with such pleasantries, the king turned and his face was instantly dark again, focusing on the matter at hand, though not without making a jest on a fools behalf, of course. Melda hadn’t even noticed the man pouring wine, he’d slipped by so casually. With a shake of her head, she moved her eyes back to the king, as he placed his chalice in Severine’s hands, and asked the court the question of the hour. Had anyone been there? Had anyone seen first hand? Could anyone speak of the disasters that took place? Well, certainly Melda knew of the situation, of the girl sentenced to death for attempting murder on the king— foolish woman. She had been at the trial, sitting in the Royal Box, wanting to see what it was Severine had planned for the poor girl. Melda did not know if the accusations were true, but it didn’t matter— Severine believed it, and Severine’s word was all. Melda had witnessed the explosion, the shooting and the fire. Such chaotic exhibits, seemingly all to save a woman who may or may not have committed the crime. Seemed to her like such a waste of efforts. To create such a large outburst for one simple woman. She didn’t understand these Fated people— why were they so intent on destroying things lately? 

Melda’s eyes wavered from the King’s and she debated speaking. It could go one of two ways- she could be ridiculed for lack of knowledge on the situation as a whole, or she could be praised for being bold enough to speak. Melda thought a moment, and decided against it— if directly asked, she would speak— or if something compelled her to, but until then, speaking out did not sit well in her stomach. She sat tall and waited for another. Even if she could not provide details, learning what truly happened could only benefit her— knowledge was power. Though, in this situation, she was not sure knowledge was wise— Severine had seemingly caused a war on the Fated and though Melda was familiar with none, the knowledge of any could cost her whatever power she may have left.

[Deleted]

Aria looked up as the witch of a woman approached; really it looked like she had recently licked a toad…poor toad. Perhaps she had shat her underthings…she did seem to be at the age where things started failing. Would explain the unpleasantness to; after all usually that was the first part of the brain to rot away. Really the rotting of the brain would explain why this woman was getting up in the middle of a silent court to come approach them. Yep most definitely brain rot, it was confirmed, this cranky shit for pants obviously had some failure in reasoning’s and judgment.

Aria met her disgusted look with a cool expression schooled on her features. Her hand calmly brought up to her lips in a gesture for silence. Her voice, though not above normal volume, cut through the silence like a cat coughin up a hairball near your ear in the middle of the night. She wasn’t dumb enough to speak out when obviously the situation was calling for silence…..her eyes slid over to the throne…….’shit’….her eyes locked on Noku…who was moving towards them. However they might have been saved by a young woman walking into the throne room. Aria quietly observed with interest as the Kings expressions flitted across his face like an actor changed his masks. For the time being her attention was off of the woman trying to put her in the cages below the castle again. AANNNDD mad face was back. Aria watched quietly with one brow raised as he turned and addressed Severine; that smile sent creeps up Arias back…it was like Daddys smiles….Aria out of habit glanced behind her, expecting something to come crawling at her soon.

Even as the King used Severines endearing term for the fated, Aria stood straight by Garretts side. She met his gaze, when it flicked towards her and Garrett. She tilted her head to the side in curiosity as he addressed the court on the matter of the Gallows….really this wasn’t already settled? Were no reports given? Aria’s gaze flinted back to Severine; curious to the report that she would give; along with the captain of the royal guard. For now since it was made clear that she was no part in this court…just a fated vermin she would keep silent. After all who needed the representative of knowledge’s opinion.

[severine]

Severine curtsied low as Noku addressed her, bowing her head. “Your Majesty.” She rose, smiling modestly. “You flatter this old woman with your kind words.” She looked to the side towards her daughter and jerked her head, Aveline giving a start from where she stood. She walked over quickly, hiding her shaking hands behind her back as she approached her mother and the King. As the King handed her mother the chalice, she looked rather sickly suddenly. More so than usual. She curtsied to the King, unable to meet his eyes as her mother passed the chalice to her.

If she was going to be Queen like her mother wished, being able to withstand poisons was part of that.

Aveline drank a swallow-full from the chalice, her hands trembling against the heavy gold. She paused, eyes closed, swallowing and tasting. Drugged. This wine was his Majesty’s usual concoction- unpoisoned, but drugged with a heavy sedative to prevent pain. She nodded and passed the chalice back up to her mother, who took it with a flourish.

“An honor of course, your Majesty.” Severine took a sip, appearing to drink but only going as far as wetting her lips. When she pulled the chalice away, she looked back to Aria and Garrett. She spared the poor doomed man a smile.

“As your Majesty is undoubtedly aware, Sir Garrett oversaw the execution of the whore who tried to take your life. But before the execution could commence, there was an explosion from within the pit where the woman was to be thrown. Then, they came. The Fated, many in numbers, fighting like demons, ripping apart guard and innocent alike. One pulled fire from the ground while another rained arrows from the sky.”

Severine gestured back to Aria. “The child you see before you is Fated. She is an admitted collaborator of that woman who tried to take your life. And upon breaking her chains, she proceeded to transform into a creature unlike any I have ever seen. And she leapt to the assistance of Sir Garrett.” She tapped her fingers against her chin. “One by one the collaborators and fighters began to vanish, including the doomed whore. And then the two of them were gone. But that was only my perspective, your Majesty.”

Severine turned to Garrett, a familiar thin smile on her face. “Sir Garrett. Would you be so kind to enlighten us on your perspective of this failure?”

[Garrett Blade]

Garrett stood motionless, observing the procession of events unfolding before his king. The boldness of Severine to speak up amidst a court of nobles, without prompt from a man of such power; a more terrifying woman he could not imagine, age had not dulled her spirit in the least. He stiffened at her verbal assault against himself and Aria, meeting her gaze, but refusing to flinch, least of all before Noku. Not without permission. The soldier in Garrett was fierce, even when the man in him could be roused to anger. He looked it, too; in full armor, holding his helm in his left hand, his right resting on the hilt of his blade, a stark contrast of grey against the decadent palette of the nobles.

Lucinda's presence seemed to abate Noku's mood, albeit momentarily, and allowed Garrett a few moment's repose to collect his thoughts. A soldier could not stand on equal footing with a noble, after all. After the pleasantries, The atmosphere started heating up again, this time to an ugly resolution. Severine flourished again, after taking liberties with the king's chalice, and levied her challenge squarely at Garrett.

"With the King's permission," he began, directing himself to Noku with a bow, "The execution at The Gallows was foiled when an explosion of unknown origin disrupted the proceedings. Immediately thereafter, several assailants of various skill and power began a powerful attack, attempting to liberate those marked for death. During the routing of our soldiers, before reinforcements had managed to rally, the woman that has been indicated by the royal adviser placed herself between the assailants and myself, and was struck through the shoulder by a ferocious bolt. One of the assailants conjured an unknown dimensional magick, and the woman and myself were transported to an underground cavern. She was very badly injured, and had lost much blood. I carried her, near death, through the underground cavern, and was teleported once more by the unknown magick into the Forever Forest, where I encountered His Majesty's Royal Guard, unaccompanied, and exhausted. We managed to return to the city walls without incident, and the remainder of what can be said is already known to His Majesty."

Garrett did not waver, and fell silent thereafter, remaining in a kneeling position before the King, his gaze fixed on the deep crimson beneath his feet.

[Lucinda Noru]

Lucinda found herself surprised at Noku’s sudden change in demeanor as he approached her, warmly, and kissed her hand. He left no time for answers to his questions as he reverted back to a more serious tone and proceeded to address his advisor along with the whole room. She shot a glance at Duke Talrin as he was called out before the toast, though she turned her attention back to the king rather quickly as he insisted on Severine taking a drink from his own chalice.

Normally, such an offer would be a great honor, but combined with his mood and words, Lucinda was at once confused and suspicious, though her face would show neither. He directed questions at the court about an incident at the gallows and she wondered what was going on. It didn’t help that she was still just standing in the middle of the room.

The audacity of the Arch Duchess continued to surprise her as the woman insisted on using a taste tester before sipping from the king’s chalice, committing a great disrespect to his majesty.
She didn’t understand this woman at all. If it had been Palico, she would have been thrown from the castle long ago, not made advisor. Severine’s account of the events at the gallows sounded as though it left something to be desired, and a bad taste in one’s mouth. True, Lucinda hadn’t been there, and it sounded rather a dangerous turn of events, but she wasn’t convinced that the Arch Duchess’s telling was entirely unbiased.

Sir Garrett, as he had been identified, provided his take on the event as well. Lucinda listened, trying to put the pieces together as to what happened and what was going on. His telling was vastly different than Severine’s and left the Princess more confused than ever. A slight frown marred her graceful features. All she could do for now though was watch and wait to see what his majesty had planned, because it was becoming increasingly clear that her arrival was not the only reason for this gathering.

[Deleted]

Finn listens as Noku suddenly calls him out and then proposes a toast. With a respectful, but friendly smile he raises his glass and drinks, not really taking anything amiss from Noku's call for a toast. After all why wouldn't a powerful man want to drink good wine?

As he raises his glass in deference and honor to the king then drinks in response to his toast he notices Arch-duchess Zoe giving the glass to her daughter first and furrows his brow. He was not quite sure what the gesture implied, but it seemed very disrespectful. He wondered if even the arch-duchess was powerful enough to be able to get away with something like that in front of the king, and if she was had he walked into a capital where the rule was unstable? Out in the Northern Reaches King Noku Noru was very popular and well respected so he took his appointed seat and then watched with interest what the king would do next.

He listened as the various parties explained their takes of what happened on the gallows and it seem to basically amount to 'a group appeared out of nowhere, took everyone by surprise then got away'.

Though as Garrett explains that the Fated seemed to have some kind of spacewarper that could move groups long distances in and instant he couldn't help but think of the militaristic advantages such an ability would represent.

[Noku Noru]

Noku's eyes flitted from the carpet, sidelong as Avaline approached, apparently at a prompt from her mother, and bore down on the chalice as it left Severine's hands. A scowl grew on Noku's face as its contents passed the lips of the young maiden, to whom he had offered nothing. Severine's pretentious gesture of "tasting" the chalice was met with a scoff from Noku, who listened attentively to her perspective of the events at the Gallows. His gaze did not divert from Severine as Garrett answered her challenge, but he did not interrupt. When Garrett had finished, Noku spoke:

"Struck through the shoulder, you say?" He said it with disgust, emphasizing the word shoulder as he spoke, inclining his skull and raising an eyebrow. He then turned to Avaline:

"Who gave you permission to drink from my chalice?" The hall trembled with the s he concluded on, and remained silent a few moments. "You were not, offered the honor, of drinking from my cup in my throneroom. Your mother presumes, too much. A poor quality in a servant of the crown." At this, he leveled his eyes with Severine, assuming a more aggressive tone:

"What do you mean by refusing an offer of fealty from your king? Have you reason whatever to believe, that the contents of my royal chalice are unfit for the likes of you? Or worse, had you any reason whatever to believe that it may have been tainted without my knowing? Winekeeper!" He said it without breaking from Severine's gaze, and presently, a small, plump man dressed in fine servant's clothes approached from the edge of one of the colonnades. He bowed to Noku as he approached. "Yes, my lord?" the man offered confidently. "When, according to your record, was the royal chalice last refreshed?" The man returned: "It has been three day's hence, your majesty. The royal chalice was last refreshed immediately before the public event at the Gallow's." Noku announced, loudly, "So the wine in question, before my court, as to its quality, has remained in this vessel" --he here indicated the cup still in Severine's hands-- "Since the failed execution described by this woman" --here, indicating Severine-- "during which THIS woman" --indicating Aria-- "was 'struck through the shoulder' according to Sir Garrett's account."

Noku remained silent a few moments, breathing heavily, then struck the cup from Severine's hands, which clattered loudly against the marble, echoing powerfully in the hallway as it tumbled. Wine lay in long streaks, pooling together and running off like blood against the glistening stone.

"Are you a servant worthy of dying for your king?" Noku had assumed a menacing air, his right hand held at waistline in a habitual shape of grasping a wine glass, palm up. "What kind of servant rejects the kindness of their master? SEVERINE!!" Noku tore the robe from his shoulder, revealing a carefully tended bandaging where a small spot of blood had begun to form, dropping the cloth against the carpet. He then slowly reached to his back, his fingers traveling delicately over the wadding. Making a snarl, Noku quickly tore the bandage, back to front, and tossed it at Severine. He strode into the hallway, his left arm fully extended, his right hand raised in presentation of the large gouge prominently visible, about an inch in diameter. Rivulets of blood began to descend, branching out into feral patterns against Noku's fair skin.

"Struck, through the shoulder" Noku repeated, more calmly, "no less." He approached Aria and motioned for Garrett to rise, pointing to the place where Aria's bandages were visible. "That must have been very painful for you, no doubt. I should say I could commiserate, but at the time this mark appeared on my flesh, I felt no pain. You-are-fortunate-to-have-had-it-miss-your, heart." He strode to where the royal chalice lay silent, grasped it up, and proceeded to the pedestal, where he placed it rim-down on the right arm of the throne.

"Yes, I am aware of the woman's injury, and of her discovery in the Forever Forest by the Captain of my Royal Guard. I am also aware of the events that took place at the Gallows, leading to the embarrassment of my soldiers and the disappearance of my prisoners, along with Sir Garrett. And I know these things because I WAS THERE!!!" His voice shook the corners of the room. "AND I SAW IT!! WITH MY OOOOWWWN EYES!!" He raged at the nobles, still silent in their seats, and leaned defiantly on his left leg, presenting a challenging demeanor. "How is it then, that not one of you, not ONE SINGLE ONE OF YOU managed to catch sight of the DRA-GON!! The peasants saw it!! The drunkards blithering along in their own piss saw the damned thing, and reported it me! How then comes it that those who enjoy the grace of my favor, charged with protecting the King at all costs, neither managed to prevent my royal chalice from being tainted nor happened to notice, with half of you present, the flitting off of a bloody DRAGON which caused hundreds of thousands of Noruvians in damage at the Moon Temple?!"

Noku sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, holding himself haughtily as he gazed down the hall at the crimson fabric, his gold eyes glistening a menacing hue, the red reflecting in the whites thereof.