Medieval: the Kingdom of Kyth

[Pixie]

Frederick Arcanus always had a lot on his mind. He was a scholar, and secrets both personal and arcane occupied his thought at any given moment. He gathered and sold information for a living, though there was a time almost forgotten when he could have devoted all of his attention to his studies. Despite the regrettable fall from power, he had once been part of a very wealthy elven family who rivaled the Ophid House in influence. Even in the prosperous and more innocent times, he had been brought up studying the arcane arts. He always spent a great amount of time learning his spells, and was primarily an expert of glamours, which had always fascinated him. Magery was very useful for keeping others to his will. Of all the things he had known, he greatly valued power. Submitting to others was simply not suitable for a gentleman like himself.

And for all his thoughtfulness, his scars rarely crossed his mind. The metal glint of the blade, in his helplessness had taken his arm and decorated him with linear scars over his entire body. He kept his slender, tall frame covered in old court clothes so that only the slash across his face was visible. With his flowing black hair left loose at his waist, he looked quite presentable. He had no issue displaying the marks that proved what he was capable of withstanding. It was conspicuous, however, and the elf always had to keep his glamour up in order to avoid unwanted attention.The glamour was wearying, but necessary. As his livelihood relied on secrecy, controlling who acknowledged him was vital. It took away from the magic energy he needed for other spells. He had his head charms, minor force-magic to compensate for his stump of a left arm, and a few spells useful on those who were too strong-willed for his glamours. Sometimes physical encouragement was necessary to retrieve the information he was after.

When the Elacsian mage had heard of the king’s death, he realized it would be catalyst that would bring important players from all over the kingdom into one place. For King Starmey Eagle’s funeral, a trip to Mediville would be worthwhile. The enigmatic Houses would have secrets that would sell quite beautifully. With secrets came money, and with money came power. It was his business to be there. His faithful racket, ran stealthily through the outer reaches of Elacs, was left for a few days time. Two years from leaving Lord Melvin’s court and its foundation, the spying league had grown into something massive and convoluted. He set his cohorts up so that his absence would not be noticed

He had slipped into the Inn and sat down alone by the bar. There were many interesting characters there who he could eavesdrop on If someone did suspect him, he’d tell them he was waiting on a friend. A redhaired boy stood out as a mark, who seemed to be working there. He had an timid air about him, and he knew the kind to be hiding secrets. If he was a worker there, then Frederick figured he might know something interesting about his patrons. They were often easy to get caught up in small talk and let something slip. There was a shattering bang outside the inn. He did not pay much mind to it, knowing that whatever it was had been done with. Instead taking advantage of the distraction, he placed his hand onto Xavier’s shoulder the moment the girl he was with turned away. It was time for one of his favorite tricks.
“Sir, I know your secret.” Frederick told him softly, as he flashed a kind smile and flared up his glamour “Do not be afraid, for I am your side.”

---

Ilaria Braide had always wanted to be a heroine. Even as a child, she would run around pretending she had science spells and arcane technology. The line of science and magic had always been fuzzy to her, and efforts to correct her on the matter were all in vain. She never did stop pretending, not as a girl of fifteen, and she often joined her friend Kaldora in her live action role playing. Her characters were bold and strong, true heroines who stuck to their moral codes and saved those in need. There was a lot of opportunity and fun to save the day when the world was opened up to rules of stories. She strived to be a heroine outside of her games. One day fate might let her save the world, and that could be that very day! She kept her eyes and heart open, and her grandfather's sword at her hip.

When she wasn’t larping or trying to find distressed people who needed her help, she was sewing clothes with her guild. Her family was part of a prominent textile guild in Mediville, dating back over centuries. Tailor work suited her perfectly, and she had grown very skilled at it. Her guildmates were pleasant company and had a tolerance for her sudden outbursts of affection. Ilaria was very fond of costumes and unusual clothing, and skilled with her hands. She stayed indoors with her guild working at close range, and rarely felt the negative effects of her albinism. Though people would seem as indistinct blobs at a distance, in the tighter quarters of the shop she could get by just fine. The light that seeped through the thatching was not enough to burn her exceedingly pale skin. When she had to venture outside, she would drape herself in layers of pastel fabric and pull up the hood of her cape to shield herself. She was very happy about the fact she had a cape. It looked more stylish to her than a farmer’s simple hat and billowed in the wind dramatically. It was a worthy use of the fabric.

The girl remembered vividly that she had been embroidering a royally commissioned corset, with exotic thread that was silver-blue like her eyes, when the guild leader had brought news that the king had died. She was deeply saddened. The young tailor had a limited understanding of politics, but her guildmates had gossiped enough for her to know that there would be reason for many important people to come visit. Ilaria liked people a lot, and she was shamelessly looking forward to meeting the mourning visitors. She would have a lot of people to visit the shop, too. Ilaria wasn’t one to stay sad, and she found herself exiting the shop with a tranquil grin as she thought about where she was heading.

She wanted to visit the inn and check out the newcomers. She also thought that Kaldora might be there, and they could have a game together. This was correct. Inside, among the throng of people, she heard her friend’s familiar voice and spotted her the vague shape of her form. She ran to hug her friend, when she heard a sudden clatter from outside the tavern. Everyone had stopped in their motions.

“Someone must be in trouble!” she exclaimed. She rushed past the threshold as quickly as she came in, and gestured for Kaldora to follow. This could be her chance to save somebody!

SPOILER: Click to show

Frederick knows many secrets and spells. He is revealed to be a terribly scarred elf and racketeer. He goes to the inn to spy on nobles. He starts playing a head game with Elcie after the car crash, who was previously with Gelquie.

 Ilaria is a larper who wants to be a heroine. She's revealed to be a successful tailor and also an albino. She leaves to greet the nobles a the inn and find her friend. Ilaria sees Coaster in the inn, but before she can glomp her, she hears the car crash and decides its her time to be a heroine.

[Ginz ❤]

So it was settled. Corinne would take the dress to wear it to the King’s funeral, and she would return it next time, with an apology. “Oh, sorry, it looks like this dress had gotten mixed up with someone else’s clothes!” She’d get a reprimand for it for sure, but she doubted she’d lose business. It was a risk she had to take. Besides, if everything went according to plan, she would be recognized as a princess, and then she wouldn’t have to deal with that at all. She would be able to buy a dozen dresses like that to replace the one she borrowed, and of course, many more fancier ones for herself to wear.

After finishing the wash, Corinne’s job was a waiting game, praying it wouldn’t rain. She decided to make the most of her time and head to the marketplace. She needed to buy some fresh vegetables for that evening’s dinner, since she was running out, and maybe a little of something tastier to indulge herself. Corinne didn't actually have money to spare for that, but as a princess, she felt she deserved some luxuries.

However, as she was walking there, she heard a loud crash. It had happened in the distance, but she had still been able to hear it, so something big must have happened. Curiosity winning her over, she picked up her pace, and got there to find a bit of a commotion. There had been some kind of carriage crash, apparently, and there was a small crowd gathered around the area where it happened. But carriage crashes weren’t usually so loud. Confused, Corinne turned to the nearest person she could find.

“What happened here?” she asked.

SPOILER: Click to show

Corinne finishes the wash and decides to go to the marketplace to do some shopping. She hears the crash in the distance and hurries to see what happened. She finds a small crowd of people already there, and asks the nearest person about what happened.

Just tagging people who I think are around: Thundy, Omni, Kozma, Shinko, Rosalie Dylas (Maddy), Sporty

[Dan]

"May the Great One bless your kith and kin," the High Priest of Woo said with a bow as Everett took his leave. The High Priest touched the shoulder of Lord Jade's cloak lightly with an ivory-gloved hand. "And may He grant strength and wisdom to you in your pursuits," the priest said, lowering his voice. The priest's robes cast shimmering reflections across the church's plaza as thousands of tiny crystals inlaid in the fabric glimmered in the midday sun.

"And may He grant the same to you, Father," Everett replied with a light smile. "I am grateful to you for meeting with me today. I know you must have much to do to prepare for the funeral."

"Why, I always have time for one of the Great One's most devout followers," the High Priest said. "And on a personal level, I shall never forget the aid you have provided for the Church over the years. My tenure would not be the same without the assistance of House Jade, after all."

"It has been too long since we last met, Father, but I imagine we shall see each other quite a lot more in the coming days. Until the morrow, then."

They bowed towards each other once more, and Everett clambered into the carriage with a wave. The High Priest turned to reenter the Church, examining the new ring on his left hand. Such detail in the carving! he thought. How they managed to etch all those feathers on the phoenix's wings, I'll never know.

***

Everett's small council was waiting for him upon his arrival at Marson's home. It had been difficult to select who would accompany him and Joffery to the capital for the funeral, but he had confidence in his choices. Each would serve their purpose in due time, he knew, though it may not have been readily apparent at the moment. Alone they may not look like much, but there was power in each of them, he knew. Power to be gained from their appropriate and timely use. And at the center of it all was the Lord of Embers. He may not possess the magical skill set that was characteristic of his house nor the depth of calling that many of his religious advisers had, but that did not matter. He may not have the powers himself, but he certainly knew how to wield them.

"I trust you all have settled in," he began as he took his seat at the head of the table Marson had prepared for them. "The accommodations here are...modest, I will admit," he said with a glance toward his cousin standing uncomfortably in the corner, "but they will serve. For the time being we will make do, for it is not within our nature to look down upon the kindness of others in our time of need.

"As you all know, we are here to attend the funeral of His Majesty King Starmey. I expect each of you to attend the ceremonies with the appropriate level of respect and poise for our departed king. We must set aside our previous differences and place our focus on the future: how we can avail this kingdom of our ample resources and restore Kyth to glory. For too long Medieville has struggled under incompetence and apathy, but we have the ability to right the wrongs. Spend some time among the smallfolk during our stay here. Observe, interact, communicate with those who are most affected by those in power. Report back to the council on your observations. If we can gain the hearts and minds of the citizens, our tasks will be that much easier. And in the meantime, I shall prepare my son for his task in the coming days, with your assistance of course."

He surveyed his advisers, eyes gleaming with pride and anticipation. "It will be a busy time for us, and I now welcome your input on how best we can accomplish our many goals. But before we begin our discussion, let us bow our heads and pray for the lost souls of Kyth, so that we may help them find the light."

He closed his eyes and began to pray.

SPOILER: Click to show

Lord Everett meets with the High Priest of Woo, an old friend who is pleased to reaffirm the Church's close friendship with House Jade. Later, Everett's small council (including Terra and Tiger) meets and Lord Jade makes an impassioned speech about their many goals moving forward. He then encourages them to pray before opening the floor for discussion.

[icon]

Aines soared overhead, looking down at the town below. From the look of things, some sort of bolt of greased lightning had produced a large device that then fell from the sky, a contrivance crafted out of metal and other curious materials. There were a large number of people standing around it.

On the one hand, as the royal confidante to the ruler of Kyth, it was part of Aines's duties to report any significant or unusual events that may have occurred to the monarch and propose methods of dealing with the, accordingly. But on the other hand, if Destiney was going to send him on fools' errands then she could wait for her precious news a little bit longer (obviously not too much longer; she'd have to know about it eventually. But just enough for it to be passive-aggressive.)

After a few moments' thought, Aines decided to fly through the window of the King's Arms, settling himself in the rafters of the lodgings area. It wasn't his favorite roost in the town, but the inn was one of those places that nevertheless gave off a feeling of welcoming-- the kind of place where everyone knew your name*. Anyone who spent enough time in Medieville could see that the inn was clearly one of the more central areas of activity.

Aines opened up Destiney's envelope and cleared his throat, hoping to attract the attention of anyone who could hear him . "Alright, I'm supposed to deliver this letter to a peasant by the name of Kidde," he began. "Her Majesty says that the first person to help me get it in his hands will be showered with gratitude in the ages to come."

"On the other hand, Her Majesty isn't here right now, and I say that the first addlebrained person who tries to direct me toward Clueless McGoatherd will be showered with quite a lot of other things, and let me tell you that they won't be nearly as prestigious as Her Majesty's praise. Now, you might be thinking to yourself, wow, this might be a really good way to curry favor with the new queen, but have to ask yourself: amidst all the chaos of the King's death, do you really believe that she'll have time to remember such helping hands? Do you feel lucky? Do you, punks?"

*even if the only reason they knew it was to say "hey, that person owes me money from two weeks ago". Let nobody say that Ilsa Wright was a forgetful innkeeper.

SPOILER: Click to show

Aines is not particularly in the mood to deal with Destiney's letter-decreeing whimsies. He sees the time-traveling car crash but ignores it, choosing instead to enter the King's Arms and rant to its patrons about how much he really doesn't want to deliver Her Majesty's message.

[Coaster]

Is that... Gnomish?

Kaldora came outside with Ilaria following the crash, as the latter had insisted urgently no sooner than she had entered. Thankfully, they were already near the inn's entrance; as the hullabaloo surrounding happy hour quickly transitioned through silence into a disorderly clearance of the inn space, Kaldora managed to avoid getting trampled (or poking nearby villagers' eyes out with her ears) and rode the tide of sweaty cloth and skin to a spot near enough the focus of attention to discern some details.

A distinctly out-of-place horseless carriage, front half smeared with bl--pomegranates? as well as various other fruits apparently imported for the nobles, and some more common vegetables--was evacuated by a man in unusually plain noble dress, given the quality of stitch and relative cleanliness, aside from the produce stains; the man approached the driver of an adjacent destroyed carriage with a few words, causing the latter to promptly run off; a few helpful hands, four of which belonged to an unusual hairy character, attended to the vegetable cart driver's injured horse (thankfully, as it was well out of Kaldora's own healing spells' range); finally, the metal cart's occupant fiddled with its inner workings and proceeded to push it towards the expanding crowd at the inn as a curious few approached him.

"...No," Kaldora shouted to her comrade Ilaria amid the din of the crowd. "That's definitely impressive engineering, even if only for a prop, but gnomes build for function--they couldn't possibly forge anything that smooth."

She seemed to recall a brief section of her lorebook regarding Vespene-powered vehicles of a similar design flying to worlds beyond the sky and making war with an alien swarm, but that was far from the knowledge base she expected from local larpers, or the metalworking skills or budget of anyone in the kingdom, even from House Stallion; even the local expert blacksmith-enchanter emerged to enthusiastically question the newcomer on his transport. And a mere illusion or conjuration would have disintegrated before causing or receiving that sort of carnage.

Immediately afterward, a black-shrouded, silver-haired man came into view, watching the scene with great intensity and equal purpose. Almost like...

Unless... but...

Granted, according to the same lorebook, the Infinite Dragonflight's presence and nefarious machinations were exclusive to ruining the timeline of Azeroth, so their agents had no business being here, but time unquestionably must have been altered in order to bring a vessel like that into Medieville without a single courier or lighter-burdened traveler seeing fit to mention it. That cloaked figure playing as one of their agents wasn't completely out of the question. Besides, Duskglimmer was getting antsy in her pack, as was always the case around an untrustworthy fellow. Actually, that might just be the dozens of tightly-packed half-drunk men bumping into us.

Then again, most travelers would have their mind on the funeral anyways, and--"

Kaldora was cut short by her cat Duskglimmer, who, apparently fed up with his owner talking to herself again, rocketed out of the traveling pack and had already bolted about halfway to the scene of interest before Kaldora caught sight of him.

"Cat's on the loose, we'll be right back!" she called out hastily to Ila, taking chase of her troublesome pet.

The feline's trajectory skirted around the suspicious cloaked figure in order to veer towards a few wooden stakes that could pass as a fence, which Duskglimmer used to climb to the nearest roof and groom himself as Kaldora's left boot entrenched itself in a boggy pothole, delaying Kaldora's corresponding foot along with it and causing her to come to an undignified stop a few yards from the mysterious stranger, scoring her forearms and knees and narrowly avoiding a faceplant in the mud and gravel. And keeping her intricately woven dress in nearly-immaculate condition, save for a few twigs she can pick out later.

Taking the opportunity afforded by her proximity and sudden onset of annoyance, she broke into fervent cross-examination of the... No, that can't possibly come across well. And it's embarrassing. How about...

She whimpered softly, attempting to right herself.

SPOILER: Click to show

Kaldora comes out to cop-out summarize what seems to be happening witness the aftermath of the car crash (I won't bother to list everyone present), hypothesizes out loud--hopefully within earshot of Ilaria (Pixie)--about who this could be, and comes to a bizarre conclusion that Ignotus (Kozma) is a member of a clan of evil time-disrupting dragons as her cat Duskglimmer runs off towards him. The nightsaber cub black tabby escapes to a rooftop and Kaldora chases after him, but she falls ungracefully near Ignotus and has half a mind to start interrogating him. She thinks better of it and settles for a more realistic and friendly injured whimpering instead.

[Thundy]

“Do you need any help with that, sir? This is a fascinating vehicle. Do you mind me asking what all those levers and things inside are for?”

Tony stopped pushing when he heard somebody directly addressing him.

“Oh it's a stick shift, I tried driving an automatic once, but it was just unnerving,” He paused, the girl was dressed vaguely like a mechanic and was standing near a building where the sounds of metalwork could be heard “Say, you think you can get this fixed? Engine's gone, probably needs a new one, I -really- have to get back to work or my boss will flip, I can't get fired man. I guess you take VISA, it's not completely max'd out yet.” He pulled out his wallet and handed Clarissa a credit card.

A large crowd had gathered around by now, comprised of many people. They were all dressed in the most impressive medieval re-enactment outfits Tony had ever seen, why, they all looked like -real- peasants!

“OKAY FOLKS, SHOWS OVER, IT'S NOT LIKE YOU'VE SEEN A CAR CRASH BEFORE!” He yelled around to everyone, and then as the shadow of a doubt passed through his head he added “...Right?” Some of the less curious left back to whatever they had been doing but there were still hangers-on looking shocked and confused at even the sight of him.

He wasn't a pretty sight at the moment, his good work shoes and pants were thoroughly sodden with mud from the street and it had been almost impossible to avoid the sheer amount of manure from the transport animals. The white buttoned shirt was ripped and torn in places, and there was a small crack in one of his glasses lenses with the frame slightly askew. His hair was a mess too, auburn, but with the sheen of somebody who had been awake all night.

He decided it would be best to check into a hotel, grab a shower, a new pair of cheap clothes, and wait for his car to be fixed. He'd also have to find out where he was (and crucially his subconscious piped up with “and WHEN, too, you idiot!” but the thought was only passing), and phone his boss, there had to be a payphone around here somewhere.

All this was beginning to add up in Tony's mental budget, the car repairs would be the biggest dent, the added cost of a hotel, clothes, and food here would definitely push him into the red. Although perhaps it might be cheaper to get an older car for cheaper than the repairs, so he inquired with Clarissa:

“How much do you think repairs will cost? I might just buy a new one if that's cheaper.”

SPOILER: Click to show

In this post Tony tries to buy some car repairs from Sporty, we get a physical description of Tony, who's not quite acclimatized to his new whereabouts. Lots of people surrounding and in sight of the car, so I can't tag you all, but Tony will try to talk to people as he leaves in the next post.

[Jayeee]

King Garrick Stallion was the master of multi-tasking. Not just anybody possessed the innate ability to be fed pie while simultaneously swaying and rolling his arms in a rhythmic fashion. That took skill. Not even the common nobleman could acquire such a deft power. Maybe he was born with it.

However, his self-appraisal was halted when Lucinda Stallion skipped into the room. Skipped! Did she think that any average person could skip? She lacked refinement. Skipping took a harmonious balance between arms and legs that could only be perfected after years of training. His dance turned aggressive at the sight – stomping his feet and accidentally elbowing the servants around him as his arms lashed out in a dance of passion.

“Uncle, Garrick, I was wondering, are you going out into the city today? Might I accompany you if are going.”

“Oh, my sweet little naïve Lucinda. Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay away from the monstrous world outside? I would so detest for your sweet little countenance to harden from the terrors of a place such as this. One can't be sure what kinds of creatures we'll find on this outing. You are my favourite niece after all.”

It was no secret that Lucinda had a talent for music. A talent that King Garrick planned to nurture. He would help it to grow, and then he wouldn't even have to pay anybody to make music for him. Familial slaves were so much more useful than strangers. His delightful little relative had to be treasured, at least until he could wrap her around his little finger. And that would take some more time.

“I would be ever so grateful. You look so handsome today, and I'm wearing my loveliest dress. Think of what a pretty picture that makes. You, the wonderfully kind Uncle showing his niece about the town. The ladies of town will not be able to help but notice what a wonderful man you are, and surely word of that will make it's way to Princess Destiney. Do say yes, please?”

King Garrick's dancing hand slowed down as he was appeased. “You're right. I am all of those things,” he agreed with a nod. He clicked his fingers four times to alert a servant, who ran out of the room in a hurry. “Lucinda, dearest, i've always had a feeling about you. We're the same, don't you agree? House Stallion might be all about progress, but Kings and Queens like us are who will really move the world forward, not those other imbeciles. I heard daddy muttering that he'd been told the world wasn't flat before we left – I stamped my feet in a rhythmical rage at the very idea. But the two of us know far better, dont't we? We can hear the music-”, he paused, dramatically cupping a hand to his ear to listen to the silence. “You must have inherited my genes from sister dear.”

The servant returned, holding a stick with a long, thin piece of material attached to one end, and a wicker basket of flower petals. He proffered them to King Garrick. “Dear child, let us not waste any more time discussing how special we already know we are.” he handed her the basket of flowers. “Let us perform our way through these streets, you scattering flowers around me, as I give everyone a taste of their new King.”

King Garrick grabbed the stick and skipped to the door. “Make haste, my child. I shall travel without guard today, to allow these peasants to see how accepting their King is to ugly people.”

The handsome noble didn't have a destination in mind, but the more people he showed his face to the better. One look at his beautiful features and he'd be talk of the town for decades. Flinging the stick about, he twirled the ribbon around himself as he danced along the cobbles, stopping occasionally to strike a pose. He called it 'Your King has arrived amidst ribbons and flowers and passion'.

He didn't stop to look back at Lucinda, his performance required absolute attention. But he assumed she'd be there. Her love for him was almost as great as his love for himself.

“Don't you love this ribbon, dearest niece? I had it made by one of our inventors. It really brings out my eyes when it twirls around me. It allows me to express the elegance and grace of House Stallion as we sway in the wind. Daddy would be so proud,” he explained as he moved. “It's actually made from the intestines of one of our peasants back home. If you come close enough, you can almost smell the blood. Gives it a splendid homely feeling, don't you think?”

Turning a corner, King Garrick suddenly stopped and screamed, pointing ahead of him as a look of horror washed over his face. “Poor people!!” he declared in fright. It took him some seconds to calm down, after which he laughed and added, “It never fails to shock me upon witnessing a peasant. Oh and they even have rags.” He gasped. “Do you think they might have... cholera? OH, this is so exciting. I should wander around Bern more often, i'm getting such a quaint thrill!”

Clapping his hands and swaying his hips, King Garrick made a resolution. “Let's talk to one of them! The noblemen and women at home will be retelling this story forever – my first adventure as King!”

Ribbon back in the air, King Garrick shuffled towards a young maid holding a basket. “She even has a basket, just like us,” he whispered. “I hope her frail, germ-ridden body doesn't give up after seeing me boogie.”

He bowed in front of the young woman. “Yes, the rumours are true,” he announced to her with a wink and a flick of his hair. “I really am this handsome. My name is King Garrick, and I come from the wondrous region of Bern. I'm your new King.” He took another bow. “And you must be a peasant- how unfortunate for you!”

King Garrick danced around her a couple of times. “I'm thinking of starting a fantastic little game of disease bingo! I bet I could find enough diseased peasants around here to get a full house!”

With one last twirl on the spot, he asked, “So what kinds of horrendous tasks are you up to today? It'll be a great additional anecdote to my story – My day in Peasantland!”

SPOILER: Click to show

The valiant King Garrick allows his charming little niece Kristykimmy to accompany him around town, upon her request. Ever the generous King, he even allows the young lady to scatter flowers, while he dances a greeting.

Upon witnessing his first peasant in Medieville, King Garrick musters up the courage to approach Liou. He introduces himself to the peasant despite the risk of disease. How brave and noble!

[Tiger]

Leif had counseled himself to pay attention in this meeting. It was not an easy thing for him to do, and part of him had sulked like a child even as he made sure his curly, deep-blonde hair was presentable and none of the dirt from the culvert had made it onto his person. Meetings were so dull. He hated meetings. The only thing worse were parties. He couldn’t bring his raptors to either of them, and that was about the only thing that would make either event tolerable.

But, as Leif had told himself repeatedly, there was a reason they’d left the Jade Manor and the mews of raptors. It would be infuriating to come all this way and not get anything done. And there was the fact that Leif had pledged his allegiance and skills to Lord Everett when he’d first been taken into the House. He didn’t particularly want to go back to where he’d been beforehand. Didn’t want to even think about it, really. So he sat in the meeting, kiteless, bright blue eyes on Lord Everett and his chin in his palm. One finger traced idly over the scar-like texture of the dark line under his right eye.

He didn’t catch everything - his attention span would never be that good - but Leif got the important pieces. There was going to be a funeral, which he was not really looking forward to, but would be more tedious than difficult. Quiet solemnity wasn’t too hard to pull off, and Leif had received enough etiquette lessons to sort of know the right things to say if he had to talk to anyone.

The less-favorable portions were their assigned duties past the funeral - talk to the peasantry and help prepare Lord Jeoffrey for winning the princess’s hand. Leif shifted in his seat uncomfortably. It would be for the good of Kyth and Medieville and Jade and all, but surely there was something Leif could do for all those people that didn’t involve...well, dealing with all those people…

Though I suppose someone has to go out and replace or find repair for Ayleth’s cage. During the packing or the travel, some of the kite’s cage bars had been badly chipped and bent toward one another. They weren’t cramping Ayleth or Leif would have insisted on replacing it immediately, but he couldn’t help but think it disturbed the kite’s view. If his raptor had to be trapped behind bars, the noble wanted the enclosure worthy of the majestic animal inside.

Lord Joffery might be another matter. For the most part, Leif had no more qualm with Lord Everett’s son than he did with anyone else. If nothing else, Joffery seemed to be quite genuine, just...exuberant. Annoyingly exuberant. The type who liked doves because they made any entrance at least twice as romantic as a doveless arrival. It was difficult to be patient with him.

Patience was going to be in very high demand, Leif suspected, and he snatched a few lines of silent prayer for himself to request that Lord Woo aid him in that endeavor. No miraculous rush of calm or tolerance washed over him; just the usual clarity of thinking that came after prayer for Leif. Their input had been requested, and he did have a matter to bring to the table.

“Lord Everett. Other houses will be coming for this funeral. What are we to do if another house - or houses - try to do the same as we are?” He didn’t mention House Stallion in particular - to be fair, he hadn’t seen any of their number just yet - but even Leif was no stranger to the enmity between that house and his adoptive Jade. The other houses were likely to see the same opportunity as the Lord of Embers, but Leif suspected House Stallion would fight them most fiercely for the privilege of ruling Kyth.

SPOILER: Click to show

Leif forces himself to pay attention at Dan's meeting (where Terra is also present), and asks what they'll do if other houses are copying their '1) Woo princess, 2) Marry princess, 3)Profit!' plan.

[Elcie]

Xavier would have liked to continue chatting with Elin, but that crash from outside had shaken him so badly that he needed to take a moment to focus on calming down. His heart was still pounding. It wasn't the noise itself, exactly; whatever it was, it probably had nothing to do with him, and far enough from the inn that it probably didn't pose any threat to the place. But he'd been so nervous all day that it made him easily startled. That, he was starting to see, could be a problem.

He was being silly, he told himself firmly. Elin was probably quite right - the nobles wouldn't bother about him at all as long as their needs were being met. And they were from Kyth. They'd be picky about the service and the food, no doubt, but he could handle that and so could Ilsa. Really, he was in no more danger than he'd been for the rest of his time living in Medieville. He'd come to feel safe at the King's Arms, and he still was. After all, even the people he was coming close to trusting, like Ilsa and Elin, knew nothing about his past. He was bound and determined to keep it that way.

Feeling better after rationalizing all this to himself, he found himself tempted to go outside and investigate further about the source of the noise, but he resisted. The inn was still far too busy for him to leave; he'd have to ask someone later. Surely some of the inn patrons would be talking about it tonight. Instead, he excused himself from Elin and went out into the rest of the inn to check on things.

It was even busier than the last time he'd looked. The family of nobles was downstairs, and looked as if they were about to leave. Ilsa, who had been speaking with a remarkably tall woman near the doorway, greeted them with her usual cheerful fearlessness. "All right," she was saying, standing aside to let them through to the doorway, and giving them a rather flourishing but respectful bow. "I hope you enjoy the sights of our beautiful city. Might I suggest dinner and drinks at the King's Arms tonight?" She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "We do have a back room for private dining, so no need for Your Lordship's family to rub shoulders with us common folk."

Xavier shook his head, fondly. He'd never have the guts to advertise to a nobleman so shamelessly, but generally her boldness seemed to work for her. He turned his attention from her to scan the room, where everything seemed to be running smoothly. It was still early for supper, so he knew they still had some time to prepare before this crowd started demanding food and drink. It was bound to be a lively night, with all the new arrivals, and he found himself looking forward to it. New arrivals would bring new gossip. He'd probably get to find out what that strange crash was, too.

He hadn't really paid much attention to the scarred elf sitting at the bar until he felt a hand resting come down to rest on his shoulder.

“Sir, I know your secret. Do not be afraid, for I am your side.”

Xavier froze. A cold chill swept through his body, and for a second he couldn't move. Then he managed to stumble back a couple of steps, staring in horror at the elf. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that the hubbub of the inn seemed muffled, and he found that he was clutching his right shoulder where the slave-brand was hidden beneath his clothes. "How...?" was all he could manage to whisper, and he swallowed. "Who are you?"

SPOILER: Click to show

Xavier calms himself down after being badly startled by the crash, and tries to convince himself that he's not in danger. He excuses himself from Gelquie and goes out into the inn, where Ilsa is talking to PFA and her family and trying to convince them to have dinner at the King's Arms. While he's surveying everything, he is approached by Pixie who claims to know his secret. He is terrified by this, and tries to ask how Frederick knows and who he is.

[Lizzie]

After several eyerolls from multiple servants and maids, and a quiet reminder of what not to do, Karma was lead by the arm up to a room across the castle, where her sisters all were.

“Now, Karma, it’s time for your dress fitting. Up on your stool, please,” her nurse said softly, lending the small princess a hand up to stand next to her twin, in a line with all her sisters.

“Malle, will you do Karma’s dress after mine? You know how she hates it,” Princess Aura Dove asked softly, leaning toward their former wetnurse. The princess looked upon her twin, staring at her forehead. Karma glanced up slightly with a disgruntled look.

“Malle!” Karma yelped, “Aura’s mean!”

“Aura doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, love,” Malle said, her swiftly aging hands helping the fairer princess gather her funeral gown up.

“Yeah, it’s only you!” a snobby voice called from down the line.
Cloudey. Karma’s fists shook with pure anger. Out of all her sisters, Princess Cloudey Wren was the most insufferable of them all, besides Aura. With ginger hair just like her, and beautiful green eyes. No freckles to speak of! It was a tragedy, and Karma wished she could give her freckles to Cloudey, just to see how she’d like it.

“Now, don’t be rotten, Princess Cloudey,” the maid working with Cloudey’s dress said, “Malle, you should call over someone for Princess Karma. She looks like she’s getting impatient.”

Karma was shaking, her fists balling yet again in the white fabric of the gown that was helped over her head. She glared over at her older sister, leaning forward on the stool and staring.

“Where is Laurie? Is she helping Princess Destiney with her dress?” Malle asked, “She could always help with Karma’s.”

“I wouldn’t subject the poor girl to that, thought, she might die of a heart attack before she even lays a hand on the dress!”

Snickers from the other girls and some of the maids broke out through the room, and Karma crossed her arms against her chest defensively, still practically vibrating with anger.

“No,” the maid continued, and looked over at a maid who was sewing a hairpiece on the opposite wall, “Cateline, get Princess Karma’s dress please.”

Cateline looked up in shock. A young maid of barely 20, her brown hair hanging loosely by her face, she put down what she was sewing.

“But, I…” Cateline began.

“No matter, Princess Karma’s dress is of the utmost importance.”

The princess in question was staring at Cateline, bouncing impatiently on her toes, and smiling her frighteningly princess-like smile.

“Alright,” Cateline said softly, and moved over in front of the ginger haired girl.“Princess Karma, please stand still.”

Karma stopped moving.

Princess Harmoney Robin, a young girl of about 10, looked over in amazement.

“Is she… standing still?” Harmoney said softly.

“That’s a new one,” Cloudey said, her usually smug sounding voice coming out surprised, “I’ve never heard that joke before.”

Karma whipped around, glaring once again at Cloudey, and opened her mouth to speak. Her small hands shook, and she began to step off the stool.

“Still, Princess,” Cateline said softly, “Be still.”

Karma sighed, and stood back in place. Aura reached out a reassuring hand to Karma, but she pushed it away.

“I hate dress fittings,” Karma mumbled to her sister, and let out a soft sigh.

Aura nodded slightly, and looked down at the dress being hemmed at her feet. The soft, silky material of her dress swished as Malle worked on it.

Karma sighed, the curls of her hair falling limply onto her shoulders.

-

The hours dragged on for Karma, even though it was barely even one. Finally, her dress was finished, and Karma changed back to her normal dress. (“Thank ‘Woo, it’s over!” “Princess Karma, be careful of those pins!”)

Once all the princesses had changed, a maid finally said, “Princesses, get some rest soon. It will be a long day tomorrow.”

Karma was halfway out the door by the time the sentence finished. She ran to her room, Aura trailing behind her.

“Karma,” Aura whispered, and opened her perfectly shaped mouth to reassure her sister of something, anything. She was answered only by the flump of a feather bed.

After a while of this -- the two princesses sitting in their canopy beds, staring at each other or at the floor, Karma sat up straight.

“I’m going to the kitchen,” she whispered, “I’ll bring you back something.”

Bare footed, Karma left the room. Dodging servants left and right, she made her way down the hallways, and to where she needed to be.

In the back of the castle, near the kitchen, there was a servant’s entrance. It had been unused for many, many years. Except for by her.

There was a creak of the door’s large, iron hinges, and then, as it was getting darker, Karma was out.

SPOILER: Click to show

Karma gets her dress hemmed and fitted for the funeral the following day, and fights with her sisters a little. Then, she sneaks out of the castle.

[Avery]

Elin did not seem sympathetic to Kelcey's woes of Destiney starving in the food-filled castle, but she did agree to see his scarf later, which was a small consolation. Kelcey was then roped into helping her and the inn's cook, Xavier, haul meat into the kitchen-- a task which was interrupted by a wicked crash! outside. Elin and Xavier peered out the door in its direction, and Kelcey glanced over them. He was not, as a rule, a curious man; his mind was much too occupied with loving Destiney to have time with silly things like... wondering about crashes. Probably just a drunken cart-man or something. And anyway, his attention was quickly occupied by the sound of a voice. A familiar voice from out in the public area of the inn. It wafted in through the flimsy wooden door that separated the kitchen from the public space... like silk to his ears...

Aines!

All brief thoughts of the loud noise forgotten-- and storing of the meat forgotten as well-- Kelcey's attention shifted towards Aines' beleaguered monologue. His heart panged as he heard the bird's disapproving words. He didn't understand why the little winged messenger didn't adore him as did Destiney! Didn't he want his queen to be happy with a gem of a man-- a man who loved her more than everything, even his goats? As Aines concluded his ranting, Kelcey pushed through the door and out into the inn's public space.

"What've you got for me?" he asked. And then--

His eyes fell to a table in the corner. And... he saw his world reborn. And he rose-- well not rose, because he was already standing, but his heart rose in any case, into his throat, practically-- with his voice... ringing!

Because there... sitting there...

was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

It was like Destiney all over again. The air left his lungs, and he knees nearly gave out. She was a youngish maiden with... the face of an angel. Nay, the face of a god. Her skin was dirt-caked, and she looked weary, as travelers tended to; but this mattered not at all. Aines all but forgotten, Kelcey nearly flung himself over to her table. She sat alone, a pitcher of ale before her, and gracelessly, Kelcey dropped to his knees at her side. Took her dirt-streaked hand-- so muscular! so callused! like his!-- into his own.

"I just met you," he breathed, "and I love you."

And then--

through his head--

memories flashed. Summertime, when he was twelve, and a young merchant-class girl from Aran came to visit; and he spied her sunbathing by Lake Plume... and he was overcome by wonderment and love; and though she rebuffed him when he introduced himself ("You smell like goats," she'd informed him with a wrinkled nose) he'd nonetheless trailed her through her visit, like a puppy dog. And he'd loved her, oh he'd loved her! That was his first love. A truly great first love, 'til she returned home at the end of the hot months.

-- and then

When he was fifteen. He was selling a goat in the marketplace, desperate for extra funds since his parents had passed away the month before... when... another girl. Around his age. Beautiful, fair, an embodiment of everything good and sweet! Her name was Elody and she was a seamstress, and for months thereafter they hadn't left each other's side. Until--

He'd found another girl. Petra. Foreign and exotic, with a throaty voice and delicious kisses. They were in love for nearly a year, Petra and Kelcey, until--

Gabrielle. Johnna. Sera. Sera was very nice, the daughter of a potato farmer, and the two of them were attached at the hip-- and on their six month anniversary they went to the loveliest festival, a festival that was attended by the princess Destiney, in fact, who was gracing the peasants with her presence. Kelcey had been so excited to get a look at her, though he knew Sera was much prettier and fairer, he thought he might marry her one day, in fact--

And then he'd seen Destiney. And their eyes had locked. And she had waved.

Now, in the inn... Kelcey stared up at this fair, fair maiden. This road-worn traveler.

"What," he breathed, tongue-tied, in awe, "what-- what is your name?"

SPOILER: Click to show

Kelcey helps unload meat but then hears icon's speech, and goes out to claim his letter. But then... oh my. He spies across the room the most beautiful woman in history... Zylaa. He professes his love to her. Turns out Kelcey's problem may not be an infatuation with Destiney, but a terrible tendency to fall in love with random women at first sight.

[Kristykimmy]

Uncle Garrick starting trying to convince her to stay, even as she spoke, but she continued on. She immediately saw that her words were having the desired effect. His hand almost stopped moving as it danced to his mouth with more food.

“Lucinda, dearest, I've always had a feeling about you. We're the same, don't you agree? House Stallion might be all about progress, but Kings and Queens like us are who will really move the world forward, not those other imbeciles. I heard daddy muttering that he'd been told the world wasn't flat before we left – I stamped my feet in a rhythmical rage at the very idea. But the two of us know far better, don't we? We can hear the music-” he paused and put a cupped hand around his ear. “You must have inherited my genes from sister dear.”

“The world isn't flat?” Lucinda wondered. That would be a fantastic development simply because it meant that there must be more out there. More to sing of, more tales to be made if there was more world out there to make it in. Lucinda however, simply smiled and nodded in agreement to what was said by Garrick. It was best that way. A happy Uncle Garrick was an Uncle Garrick doing what she wanted of him.

The servant returned, holding a stick with a long, thin piece of material attached to one end, and a wicker basket of flower petals. Lucinda looked distrustfully at the long thin thing on the stick. If the servant didn't want to touch it, it must be nasty. The servant gave both things to Garrick.

“Dear child, let us not waste any more time discussing how special we already know we are.” he handed her the basket of flowers. “Let us perform our way through these streets, you scattering flowers around me, as I give everyone a taste of their new King.”

Lucinda took the basket of flowers with a wry smile, only Uncle Garrick.

“Make haste, my child. I shall travel without guard today, to allow these peasants to see how accepting their King is to ugly people.”

“Wait, shouldn't we at least bring Kirin, then?” Lucinda called, hurrying from the table and after her uncle. She had never been allowed outside of any of their estates without the escort of a male member of the house and a few armed guards, so she wasn't sure if they were doing something unusual. Not that Lucinda minded unusual, but there were lines between unusual and a breach of propriety that she wasn't sure about crossing. Garrick wasn't paying any attention to her, so she simply followed his lead.

Once outside, she took the basket, flicked it up into the air so all the flowers jumped out and showered down over them. Garrick was already busy dancing, so she stealthily handed the basket to a peasant standing nearby, telling her to use the basket for carrying whatever it was that peasants carried. Lucinda knew about as much about peasants as she did about King Starmey.

“Don't you love this ribbon, dearest niece? I had it made by one of our inventors. It really brings out my eyes when it twirls around me. It allows me to express the elegance and grace of House Stallion as we sway in the wind. Daddy would be so proud. It's actually made from the intestines of one of our peasants back home. If you come close enough, you can almost smell the blood. Gives it a splendid homely feeling, don't you think?” Garrick told her, waving the ribbon around.

“Oh, indubitably!” Lucinda cried in a breathless voice, pulling out a perfumed handkerchief and pressing it to her mouth to help quell the nausea she felt at the idea that had once belonged to some poor peasant.

Lucinda was glad that Garrick had begun to move again, taking the offensive ribbon away from her. She was intent on gazing at everything when her attention was suddenly drawn to Garrick again by his scream.

“Poor people!!” he declared in fright. It took him some seconds to calm down, after which he laughed and added, “It never fails to shock me upon witnessing a peasant. Oh and they even have rags. Do you think they might have... cholera? OH, this is so exciting. I should wander around Bern more often, I'm getting such a quaint thrill!”

Lucinda pressed a hand to her heart, calming down. For a moment, she had been afraid something dreadful must have happened to Garrick with the way he had scream. Lucinda didn't exactly like Garrick, but she loved him out of principle. He was her uncle, her unknown mother's brother. She would be sorry if something happened to him, regardless of how odd he was.

“No, Uncle, I don't think they have cholera. I think people with cholera stay in bed, don't they? What is cholera, Uncle?” Lucinda asked.

However, Garrick was already busy with harassing a peasant. From around a corner, Lucinda heard a great crash. Without thinking, she hurried around the corner and found herself in front of an inn, The King's Arms. Around her, everything was chaos. There was a strange metal contraption, an abundance of people in strange clothing, and people of races she'd never seen before.

Lucinda wished she had a piece of paper to record what she was seeing, she was sure it had the makings of an ballad. A ballad about what, she hadn't an idea.

SPOILER: Click to show

Lucinda leaves the manor with Jayeee, wondering if they should stop to get Killix, but having no time to do so.

She follows Garrick around, looking at the town and hears a commotion. She runs off, not bothers to make sure Garrick is with her, and finds herself in front of the King's Arms, watch the drama surrounding the car crash unfold.

[Stal]

The king's death was some of the best news that Aurum Spindle had heard in a long time.

Yes, he was sad about the death of a fairly beneficent king who really kept out of his hair most of the time. But a king's death meant a king's funeral. And a king's funeral meant traveling nobles. And traveling nobles meant more gold flowing in the streets.

It meant more patrons for Apollo's Lyre (or simply The Lyre as it was beginning to be known by). And more patrons for The Lyre meant more of that money in Aurum's pocket.

In other words, the King's death was VERY good for business.

Not even that many years before as Aurum was broke with little but a spindle and a pub that he could barely keep open (and creditors looking to claim at any moment), he had met a young traveling minstrel with true-red hair who had told him about a place in a far off land where the musicians paid the bar owners to play their songs, and not the other way around! He had listened fascinated to this idea... And how he could make it work in this city.

He scraped all the money he could find together (which had not been much since that brat and his friend had conned him into buying a bunch of wine that never arrived) and got to work. The remodeling had gone smoothly, and the Apollo's Lyre opened with little fanfare.

Initially the musicians scoffed at this idea of paying to play. It should be the other way around, they argued. After all who would come to his pub without entertainment?

But Aurum was a shrewder man than they expected. He talked with his creditors, and they began making regular appearances. These men were well connected, and before long the musicians started to see they could have almost guaranteed access to these men.

And so the place turned around. Aurum copied head to toe everything he could remember about this other place and how they did business. And it paid off handsomely. He was practically spinning straw to gold.

And now there was more gold to come!

"Attention everyone! Attention!" He raised his hands in the air and clapped twice to get silence his staff. They looked at him expectantly and he did his best to suppress a greedy grin.

"Our beloved King, as most of you know, has perished. (Long live the king!) But we can expect to be busy over the next several days. Which means this place needs to be spick and span. Deep cleaning all around. You there, dearie, put away your book and go get the mops! Chop chop!" Aurum clapped again and his staff went scurrying about, knowing better than to dally and perhaps lose their jobs.

There was a sound at the front door. Aurum looked and sure enough, the first of the bards were coming in to book spots for the coming nights. He let out an impish giggle and beckoned the musician over.

This could be very profitable indeed.

((Summary: Aurum Spindle is an up-and-coming businessman/bar owner of the peasant class. He takes the news of the King's death with some understanding that this could be Very Profitable and sets his staff to go about cleaning the venue and making sure it is ready.))

[Liou]

Laurie was startled by a bright flash of light that shot across the sky, followed by a crash. She stopped short - a man who had been walking behind nearly bumped into her, then stumbled backwards and into a group of people, causing the beginning of a brawl.
Laurie took a few cautious steps forward, craning her neck to try and catch a glimpse of the flying object, but it had fallen much too far behind the rooftops. Curious bystanders had started to walk in its direction. Laurie hesitated.

Something flying so fast in the sky, she'd never seen anything like it! except... could it be a flying goat? Or even one of those goats?
She was so tempted to go and meet it. It had to be a sign, for her.
But no, she wasn't supposed to go near them anymore. They were the ones who came to her. She had to get back home - to the castle, anyway. All the people who had gone to investigate the crash would probably spread the news; it wouldn't be difficult to figure out what had happened.

She had barely taken a few steps towards the center of town when a whip swished through the air in front of her eyes, and a bunch of sinous curves meandered into her path, introducing himself as King Garrick of Bern. She let out a tiny squeak when he flicked his hair - it looked as silky as a goat's beard!
Laurie's reflexes took over and she immediately curtseyed, just the way she had been taught with the princesses.
"It is such an honor for our kingdom to be graced by Your Royal Highness' presence!" she said in the cool, serene voice she always used with nobles.

Then Laurie, frowned, confused, for the marvelous frolicking apparition had vanished as fast as he had appeared.
Oh wait, no! He had danced around her, and was now flailing his whip behind her back. She whirled round to face him and was once more struck by his beauty.
"A game of -" she spun on the spot to keep up with him - "disease bingo? How quaint! We do not usually see subjects with terrible afflictions, unless they come to the castle to beg for a blessing. You Royal Highness might find some odd people in taverns, inns, the marketplace, or that strange, dark part of town that I am not allowed to visit."
Laurie whirled again, having to refrain from giggling - this was such a fun way of having a conversation!
"Oh, but I am sure you will win the game, you seem so marvelously clever! And that fragrant whip..."

Laurie knew that scent. It reminded her of so many things, but in particular of when Kelcey had been ill as a child and nearly puked his guts out. What was she thinking about again - oh right, the whip. Could it be that this glorious king man was also a herder? He certainly looked like the type. His beautiful prancing and frolicking would be perfect for a flower-filled meadow. Laurie could not tear her eyes from his lightly skipping feet and the smooth, flowing movements of his hips and arms.

"You are..." Laurie struggled to find the best compliment in the world. "You are as graceful as... a goat! Oh, how majestic you would look, skipping on the rocks of a mountain in the sun!"
He truly was as beautiful as a goat, a king of goats. What if he was a goat, cursed to remain in human form until he was freed by true love's kiss? Or some kind of hybrid goat man, like a faun or satyr? That would certainly explain his graceful feet.
Or what if he had been a human turned into a goat, then freed, or what if he was a goat who had earned a magical transformation into a human through an act of bravoury or just overwhelming beauty -
Laurie stopped thinking before it became too much.

Ah, the faun king had asked her about her day. She laughed a tinkling, crystalline laugh. "My day has just been brightened tenfold, thanks to Your Royal Highness! It has been difficult, though, with all the visitors and the preparations for the great mourning at the castle..."
She sighed. "Our life has been shattered. However shall we live through this ordeal? I must return and continue to prepare for the ceremony. I hope that you enjoy your stay in our city, Your Royal Highness. The servants will all be ready to tend to your needs. I..." She blushed, eyes trailing over his figure once more. "I too will be there for you, if we meet at the mourning feast."
Oh yes. She would look after this majestic goat man.

SPOILER: Click to show

Laurie marvels at Jayeee's overwhelming beauty, which is so intense that it reminds her of a goat! Or a faun.
She mentions the inns and marketplaces as interesting places, and looks forward to seeing him at the mourning feast.

[Celestial]

"A-A-Alain," Ambrose stuttered after a long silence. "You want me to take part in you seizing power?"

"Not just you. Kirin and Lucinda will help you get Garrick to marry Princess Destiney," Alain nodded calmly, still steepling his hands.

"Them and me?" Ambrose's eyes widened. Had Alain finally gone senile? He hoped to the 'Woo and back that he had not. They already had a madman in the family and now, with this crisis looming, they needed Alain to be sane more than ever.

"Yes. You all have the skills that will be necessary and I have business in Bern to manage," Alain replied. "Rest assured, Ambrose, I will do my best to help you but all my represent Stallion in Medieville. Things willl get unpleasant soon and I wish to keep my hands clean."

"Alain, you're using us," Ambrose frowned and then stood up. "We're expendable, aren't we? Brother, I respect you but I'm not-"

He broke off in mid-sentence as his eyes were suddenly assaulted by another vision. A muscular and slightly disturbed-looking man who somehow reminded him of his nephew. He was sobbing overdramatically by the corpse of a young woman who appeared to have been murdered. She apparently was called "Amy" and had been a drunk. But why was he seeing this? Were they somebody important, like nobles from a future time? The young man appeared to be looking directly at him and explaining more about their tumultous affair and the young woman's problems but he was sure he could not be aware of Ambrose watching him, could he? Or was he like some of those other people who sometimes seemed to speak through his visions to him? Those were unnerving. At any rate, he was being quite mean to the poor dead girl.

Ambrose slowly returned to the vision to find Alain still looking at him. He stumbled and clutched his head, groaning slightly as the last of the vision faded from his mind. Who were those people? What did it mean? How did this fit into the future? Was that young man a descendant of Garrick's or what? Did that murder of an alcoholic girl and the relationship she had with that young man lead to anything?

"Ambrose?" Alain broke through his thoughts. "Anything useful? Something about the death of the king or about Princess Destiney?"

"No, Alain. There was a young man-"

"It's alright, I do not need to hear," Alain pondered something for a moment and smiled. "That's settled then. I hope you remember what we talked about."

"...What, Alain?" Ambrose clutched at his head, trying to remember the conversation they had before. Something about marrying Princess Destiney and what that would require and Alain wanting him to take part...

"Nevermind. Thank you for agreeing to help me anyway," Alain got up and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, giving him a small smile.

Ambrose frowned. Did he really agree to help Alain? But...he was not suited for such a task and yet, Alain would not misuse information or even choose him if he was not. It was safe to leave this in Alain's hands. He knew better, he always did. And maybe he thought Ambrose's visions were useful...somehow.

"...Alright. What do you want me to do now, Alain?" he asked, resigning himself. He could not remember agreeing but he had no memory of what happened before the vision anyway. Even though it had disappeared from his eyes, it still hung on in his mind, posing so many questions.

"Garrick and Lucinda went out while you were...busy, shall we say? I will be busy making up plans and we cannot discuss them without them so perhaps you could go look around the town?" Alain guided him gently towards the door, which Ambrose barely protested. "See the sights, perhaps meet...interesting people we could use. Just keep yourself occupied and make your presense known."

It did not sound like he was given any choice.

"I shall see you soon, Alain. Good luck with plans," Ambrose murmured and headed out of the cabinet. Alain smiled and closed the door behind him.

Ambrose did not like going outside. There was the possibility of a vision striking him at the worst time, leaving him open for being run over, robbed or jeered at. Worse, most people did not really take kindly to his madness and rambling. Everyone in Destrier knew him as Alain's brother and a member of Stallion but even so, he did not enjoy getting their pitying looks. But here, at least nobody knew him. And he'd already had two visions so it was unlikely he would get more. It would be fine.

He tossed his cloak over his shoulder, taking care to secure it with the silver and ruby horse pin so people would know who he was and stepped outside onto the busy street. However, despite Alain's request, he ended up making eye contact, much less talking, with very few people. As he rounded the corner around an inn, suddenly, Ambrose's eyes fell upon an amazing sight.

It was a metal cart, except one without horses and an...engine, was that what it was called? He'd seen them before. Not as wrecked and in far greater numbers but he had seen them before!

Was this another vision? He rushed forward and touched its crumpled metal. No, it felt real. His visions were rarely tactile. So what was this? It had to be real but what was it? How could a thing from his visions suddenly be here? Yes, his visions had happened before but he had never seen a metal beast in Medieville!

Ambrose looked around the crowd until his eyes fell on a man. He stood out of the peasants and commoners gathered around him and his clothes looked like those of the people he had seen from the future! They must be connected. Perhaps this man knew what the future held...he could clear up Ambrose's visions for him! Explain everything, perhaps even the outcome of this succession crisis.

"Excuse me, sir?" he approached the man. "This must sound insane but you must be from the future! I have only seen things like that and people dressed as you in my..." Ambrose broke off, not sure whether he wanted to explain. But he had already begun. "I have visions of the future. It sounds insane, but it is true. I predicted the famine in Kine and now the death of the King. But you must explain to me, if you're from the future, what happens now? What happens after King Starmey's death?" he pondered, trying to remember what else his visions held. "I won't ask you about the painting apocalypse, since it must be ahead of your time. But do you know of somebody named Amy? She would have been an alcoholic who was murdered, this might be in your time."

SPOILER: Click to show

Ambrose does not want to be part of Alain's grasp for power and believes Alain has gone insane sending him, Lucinda, Garrick and Kirin to acquire the throne but a vision cuts him off before he could refuse. A vision of a young man sobbing over an alcoholic girl called Amy and talking vigorously to the viewer. This vision throws him off, which Alain uses to his advantage to get Ambrose to go along with his plan. Unable to refuse his brother, Ambrose then goes outside where he runs into Tony's(Thundy) car. He recognises it as a thing from his visions and goes to ask Tony about the future and whether he knows anything.