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Thread: Life in Hell

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    Default Re: Life in Hell

    Moira
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    Whilst you are unable to actually identify the spell, you do manage to work out a few things about it. The most pressing one being that it wasn't cast by Telaya. The gust of water and wild was the act of another entity, an entity that was undoubtedly Fey in nature. Beyond that however, there is very little that you can discern.


    ***

    As Falthor approaches the main entrance to the hall, one hand reaching out to open it, it opens sharply and he is forced to pull back suddenly as four of the guards that he saw leave a handful of moments ago stride past him. In the middle of the four is a man dressed in formal evening wear, a cloak emblazoned with the Callistan coat of arms stretching from his shoulders to the top of his boots.

    For a moment, conversation continues almost as normal. Those who have been watching start to react, taking into account the new arrival but not recognising him yet. And then he slams the staff in his right hand down on the floor of the hall. It rings harshly on the stones, the metal cap at its bottom chiming in discord.

    You recognise him now. To all but Moira, he is the one who hired you - and to her he is one of the most powerful in all of House Callista. His name is Mical Huwayrd. He is Lord Callista's Seneschal. And at his words, all whom had not already fall silent.

    "My Lords and Ladies, for the final act of Bard Telaya's performance,your host has seen fit to join you in welcoming her back." His stentorian bellow fills the hall effortlessly and he raises his staff of office in a gesture to the man following him. "Lord Delat Callisto!"

    Even without the introduction, all of you would recognise the man who steps through the door at his announcement. Brown hair, tied back in a jewelled clasp, rises above a pale, blue eyed face. He's handsome enough, but his brow is marked by the furrows of a thinker. And you all know that Delat - and his predecessors - have been thinkers.

    Yet at the same time, he has a...presence to him, one you recognise - but can't truly explain. Something that only those who have held power and know its cost could likely ever truly understand. But tonight he is smiling as he moves forward into the parting crowd, through the empty space between the main doors and the seating of the hall.

    On his left stands a dark-skinned man with white eyes, dressed in the attire of a courtier. And on his right is a slender woman wrapped in flowing formal wear. You all notice the telltale glint of mithral beneath the clothing - and none can not notice the sword at her hip. Their names come slowly, but they come. Gretalus Nox, master of House Affairs and Amel Crimson, Captain of the Callistan Guard.

    Lord Callista continues on with the two silent shadows of his advisors, sapphire eyes sparkling in the reflected magelight. Mical and the four guards with him move up ahead into positions around the Lord's Box - Mical himself opening it for Delat.

    He and his compatriots take their seats, Mical closing the Box behind him as he steps inside. And slowly, ever so slowly, sound starts to return to the room so swiftly cast into silence.

    Then the clapping starts. Radiating out from the stage. Heads spin, tracking on the source, and the clapping spreads further as Bard Telaya and her musicians make their way back on stage.

    The half-elven woman bows deeply to Lord Callista, then raises her voice.

    "My Lords and Ladies, in keeping with the sudden appearance of our most gracious host, our final pieces have changed." She smiles out at the crowd, her blue-green irises catching Moria's for a second. "May I present to you, people of Azer, Elysia made song."

    Two humans start the piece on fiddles, swiftly joined by another half-elf, this one beating out a steady rhythm on a hand drum. And then Telaya begins to play. A fluid swirl of notes, set loose by dancing fingers ahead of the rising melody of her voice.

    Grass.
    It forms a carpet,
    Emerald waving
    In a gentle breeze.

    Streams,
    Flow all around us...


    ((And that's an effective perform roll of 40, reactions as appropriate))
    Last edited by Snowfire; 2012-03-18 at 08:55 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by QuintonBeck View Post
    Many thanks to Snowfire for collating all these. He's a madman, but he's a helpful madman.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Mynxae View Post
    Damn you Snowfire. I cried.
    Quote Originally Posted by Falcon777 View Post
    T_T I swear, you just made me cry.
    Quote Originally Posted by Qwertystop View Post
    Well, here's another for your sig, Snowfire.

    <struck dumb>