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 Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 9:34 am
 Meeting
A Soldier named Darius, Grimm of the Dagger
&
An old friend, Mary RocqueFellowship Entry Status Augur
Where: Anica, Shyregoed
When: Late Fall, 1412
What: Reunion and Partial Interview
Weather: Little snowfall this day, but ice is caked against Anica's outer walls with an intimidating wind chill and formidable gusts
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 10:44 am
The Fellowship capitol, nestled in the very center of Shyregoed, was an ancient fortress of colossal size. Though the Northern Sanct was indeed a mountainous region, the lower half was dotted more by forests while the upper held the majority of its ranges. Anica itself was hidden well in the center of the deepest Shyregoedian wood, buffeted constantly by harsh winds and the most frigid temperatures. its outer walls perpetually encased in a thick layer of ice and snow year round. Even for those looking, it is a difficult location to find, next to impossible for someone to simply stumble upon. However, those with official business who have announced their arrival and been accepted as a guest will find their trip somewhat easier.
This was one of those times.
In a large dining hall constructed of thick stone, decorated with vibrant purple and gold tapestries with the Fellowship's insignia, the year long chill did not permeate. Jack Frost's claws scraped and frosted the windows, shook them on their hinges, and tried desperately to work past their barriers, but the interior of Anica was far warmer than should have been possible with standing heating implements, especially with its size. Anica's building alone could function as a Shyregoedian city and, indeed, it was well populated, but it was still possible to find lonely corridors and empty hallways. In this particular dining hall stood a large wooden table, carved of dark wood and accentuated by a polished stone top. A large chandelier hung overhead, candles lit and flickering harmoniously. At each side stood at least twenty chairs spaced generously apart, and a single chair at the top and bottom. It stood facing the doors, of which were also large and ornately decorated wood with swirls etched in. At the seat furthest from them, at the head of the table, sat a black haired woman clad in white fur and finery. Beside her, in the first chair to the left, sat an imposing figure clad in steel plates and chainmail with a vibrant mop of red on their head and traces of the color all across their armor.
Before the woman were several sheets of unused parchment, an ink horn with pre-dipped hawk feather quill, and two short letters of correspondence, all neatly stacked at either side of her arms which sat upon the table, hands clasped through black leather gloves. Nothing was before the knight at her side, though his own posture was far more relaxed than the lady's.
"Who is Mary Rocque?" he asked with a low, calm gravel that drew her amber eyes to him.
"She was before your time," she answered simply.
The knight leaned back in his chair, gaze focusing on nothing in particular though a worried look creased his features. "Fort Estratus was before my time."
She gazed at him with a subtle twinge of pity and amusement playing behind her otherwise impassive stare. For a few brief moments there was silence between them, then she pushed her chair back some and came to a stand. Her arms found their way behind her back as she stood straight and at attention, eyes locked with the door. The knight didn't need to be told to do the same, and he did so in silence. However, his arms crossed at the front and his gaze remained downcast.
At the front of the building were several guardsmen and a robed Seer, the latter of which stood back bracing for the cold as the guards pulled the heaving front doors of Castle Anica open. Two human guests and one shoulder riding Plague were ushered in out of the blustering wind, a fine mist of snow trailing in after them and coating the entrance to the foyer. Once the doors were shut behind them, the temperature clearly shifted and a warm feeling embraced their bodies, shaking off the remaining chill.
"Mary Rocque?" the Seer asked as he adjusted his robes from the wind. When confirmation was given, a finger then pointed questioningly to the man and his tainted companion. With formalities out of the way, he offered the guests a quick smile, "The Grand Magus is expecting you. Please, follow me." With that, he turned and lead the three visitors through a few halls and several more large doorways, most of which creaked open with no obvious assistance then closed behind them all the same. One last door lead into an extravagant dining hall, though there was no food to be seen and it had largely been cleared out save for a single table which a woman and large knight stood at the head. Hand resting on the door, the Seer bowed with a hand to his chest, then waved it to present the visitors. "Grand Magus Estratus, a Miss Mary Rocque and guest." Once they had stepped just past the boundary of the doors, the Seer set to work on pulling them shut. A dull thud echoed behind them, and there they were in the presence of the new Grand Magus and her Plague Knight.
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 9:35 pm
"Perhaps you should have shaved?" Cyril asked, lounging over Darius' shoulder as his Grimm stroked his hand over his two days worth of facial stubble, looking up at the imposing ice-covered structure before them. The wind howled around them, flapping Darius' cloak around him and forcing Mary to readjust her hood and scarf around her head. The Grimm's bright eyes were narrowed, scanning the building, but Cyril's ghostly eyes were only on his guardian, as though nothing else of interest were in their vicinity. He tapped his dark chin and hummed, barely audible over the wind. "No. It would be a shame! Not for a day or so more, I think. It's wonderfully masculine, my good man, and I am certain excellent against the cold."
Darius' eyes slid toward the plague, then ticked back toward the building as the door swung slowly open. He hung back, allowing the witch to enter first, bowing his head silently to the Seer that spoke with them. The warmth stung his face as he entered, and he shook the snow from his boots at the entryway as Mary verified her identity and his own.
"Good morrow to you, guardsmen at your posts! And to you, fair robed one! Yes -- I am indeed a dagger prince, my name is Cyril -- it is a pleasure of the highest order! We have been some way in meeting you all, you know -- this is my good guardian, Darius, yes, hello." The plague bowed to the guardsman and the Seer in succession, apparently unconcerned with whether he truly had their attention or not. He stood on his Grimm's shoulder, smiling broadly as he took in the trio moved on down the hallway, waving behind him to those that remained at their posts. "Have you ever seen a hallway such as this? So snug and warm for all its size, do you not think? And the archways and doors, so imposing. Should I whisper?" Cyril sunk his voice down, sitting down and leaning close to Darius' jaw. "It seems to suggest we whisper. Are there many meetings of import going about just now?"
"Just this one, my little one," Mary said, turning slightly to smile at the plague behind her. She walked briskly for a woman her age, although still her pace did not match that of the guiding Seer before them.
Darius turned his head toward Cyril, his jaw only slightly tipped toward his shoulder in order not to accidentally bump the plague from his spot, and said to the plague in his deep rumble: "Which means you will allow others to speak when we enter."
"Upon my honor, I swear it. I shall not say a word until both Mary and this Grand Magurgalist have said their pieces."
"Grand Magus." Darius corrected.
"The Grand Magus shall find me quieter than the quietest of mice." Cyril paused. "Do you think there are mice here? Well, I shall be silenter than even the ones that may only exist in my mind."
Darius bit down a sigh as the wide doors opened. Behind Mary, he could not see the smile that blossomed slowly across the old woman's face as she beheld the inside of that dining hall and its occupants, and she moved past the Seer as he announced her. For his own impression, he saw a massive knight and a smaller but well-possessed woman, one whose face kindled some recognition in the back of his mind. He had seen her before, he knew, at a time he did not take pleasure in recalling...
"Dearest child," Mary said, her voice quiet and full, one of her wrinkled hands soft against her chest. Then she paused, shaking her head, as she walked forward toward the pair . "No, bless me, that is not right. Dearest lady, it warms me to see you so well and so honored. Forgive an old woman her tardiness of so many years."
Cyril sat with impressive quiet at his Grimm's shoulder, his legs crossed and his hands on his knees. His smile practically vibrated with the strength of his curiousity, but he stayed as still as Darius, who stood at quiet attention near the door, his posture soldierly and still.
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 11:07 pm
Sloane's eyes raised to meet the three humans which entered, his posture straightening when he caught sight of the man standing by the old woman, an unannounced guest. His brow knit, swirls locked upon him with great scrutiny. This man was a surprise in a scheduled, private meeting. Surprises, in these times, were never good. Sloane's fingers curled against his bicep, a subtle sound of dragging metal, and he raised his chin. The man was not too much smaller than him in height, roughly four inches compared to the usual, and both of them were imposing figures in this room.
When the woman approached further than the man, both he and his Grimm's gaze shifted. While his eyes drifted between the two new humans after the doors closed, the Grand Magus' attentions were solely on this woman. A hard knot formed in Sage's throat that she was quick to swallow, she too straightening her posture and holding her head slightly higher -- though in Lady Estratus' case, hers was not motivated by trying to look more intimidating but instead attempting not to look weak or too familiar.
"Seer Rocque," she addressed informally, one arm coming to her front so a hand could rest against her chest as she lowered herself into a polite bow forward, "It is an honor to be in your presence once again, tardiness be damned."
When the Grand Magus rose, she clasped both hands behind her once more and turned to look the other guest straight in the eye. There was no recognition from her, only a sturdy and mostly blank expression. "May I inquire as to the identity of this man? He was not mentioned in your letter."
Beside her, Sloane sighed quietly. It was a good thing of his Grimm to press this information before either of them drew too near. A healthy dose of suspicion was something neither of them could afford to lose and putting the visitors on the spot would assist them both in reading their body language. However, what his lady proposed next caught him slightly off guard and he took his eyes off their guests for but a moment to glance her way.
"I suppose an exchange of introductions is in order," once more she bowed, though this time it was only a dip of the head and directed specifically at Darius, "I am Grand Magus Sage Estratus, and this," a gloved hand gestured to the towering knight beside her, "Is my sword, Sir Sloane, Plague Knight of the Fellowship."
It was his turn to bow, then, and Sloane took a step back from the table so he could properly turn to face them both. One arm at his side, the other hand a balled fist against his chest, he wordlessly bowed as low as his Grimm had for Mary.
"He will be present for the entirety of this meeting. If this is an issue then I give my condolences, but the meeting will not continue."
Another surprise, though this time Sloane restrained to glance his Grimm's way. Instead, he allowed himself to smile and flash a bit of teeth. The gesture was not intended to be intimidating, but his gaze was still lingering on Darius and his swirled eyes held suspicion. It was a darker expression than he had hoped for. And still, neither of them yet noticed the third presence nestled comfortably on the man's shoulder who remained as quiet as promised.
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Posted: Sun Dec 23, 2012 9:09 pm
Darius did not step forward, did not move at all as Sloane's eyes went toward him, darkened with suspicion. The plague knight was more eye-catching than the woman he was charged with guarding, and everything about him seemed sharp, dangerous. There was a glint in his eye as he looked at Darius that the soldier did not much like, but he could hardly blame the other -- after all, he was the unknown here, and Darius knew he had once given that same look to many unknowns that entered his domain.
Darius kept still. He was not a threat, and he did not mean to act like one.
"Sir Sloane..." Mary said, her voice thick with curiousity. She curtsied, dipping as low as her age would allow, and raised her head to look up at the tall plague. There was something in her eyes as she viewed him, some unnamed emotion impossible to read. "Yes, I welcome your presence, Sir. I had hoped to set eyes on you. I have heard much of the Fellowship's plague knight..."
She turned then, gesturing to Darius. "As for this one...This is Darius Goodfellow, a helper to an old woman." As Darius inclined his head, bowing stiffly so as to not jostle Cyril, Mary turned to lock eyes with Sage. The old woman said the next few words slowly, as though stressing their meaning. "I healed him in Gadu many months ago, and he has stayed on with me. I thought you might find some interest in meeting him and his charge."
Darius' eyes went to Mary, a faint questioning expression crossing his visage. He stayed silent, knowing there was nothing he could ask of her during such an interview, but it was plain to see he was mildly confused at being at all discussed in the proceedings. But his attention was soon drawn elsewhere. Cyril could stay still no longer. He attempted to do so, leaning slightly to Darius's ear as his guardian bowed, whispering harshly: "That is me, yes? I am your charge?"
Darius straightened, tilting his head slightly toward Cyril and nodding once, sharply. The plague then leapt to his feet and bowed to the Grand Magus and her knight with flourish, a pretty, graceful movement. He raised his voice, so smokey and sharp by nature, but so genial in manner. "Yes, good morrow! That is me, Grand Magus, Knight Sloane! Allow me to introduce myself, I am Cyril Horatio Byron Daggerfeld, and I am pleased to be making your acquaintances! Yes, hello, can you see me so far away? Darius, I am not certain they can see me so far away, could you lend me an ear ---" The plague stepped up on his Grimm's ear to gain some separation from his shoulder, holding onto the shell of Darius' ear and waving wildly with his other hand.
Mary pressed down a smile. "He is... rather exuberant."
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 11:37 am
His name upon the old woman's gentle voice caused the knight's grin to falter and he rose from his bow to them, meeting eyes with Mary. At her curtsy, Sloane's brows shifted to a momentary knit. She held a unique air about her, something that could be said of many mages, but it was different here in that she was immediately difficult for Sloane to read. Her eyes spoke volumes but it might as well have been in another language. Another bow was given, this one shorter.
"Thank you, Seer," Sloane replied simply, not wanting to take up their time with attention to himself. Despite this, he was undeniably curious of what the Seer Rocque had heard of him in her travels that would cause her want to see him. Most rumors were of a monstrous armor clad creature upon Shyregoed's battlefields, slicing and ravaging the Fellowship's enemies. Most were accurate.
Some amount of relief and a mixture of disappointment followed as attention was brought away from him. Lady Estratus' eyes followed the Seer's gesture, locking eyes with Darius Goodfellow and giving him a short nod. She took note of his stiff body language which was only accentuated by Mary's next words. Sage's arms crossed at her chest, a gloved finger resting on the side of her face as she scrutinized him and played the old woman's words over in her mind. It seemed this man faced some hardship and perhaps the two of them were now in a mutually beneficial relationship. This was all well and good, but Seer Rocque knew well where the true interest in her exposition lay and one of Lady Estratus' brows lifted with subtle interest. It did not take long for her knight to get up to speed, but by the time he did the sharp voice of a singing blade cut the momentary silence.
Neither could see him well from their distance but the small Plague's voice carried well despite his size. Exuberant was one way of putting it. As Lady Estratus' hands came to rest upon the table's edge, Sloane's fell to his side. Each word spewed forth from Cyril Daggerfeld toyed and teased at the knight's mouth until a genuine smile, unrestrained and made less intimidating by the pleasant gleam of his eyes, played across his features. He did not allow it to linger, the look unprofessional and ill suited to a meeting like this, but as he lowered his head once more to hide its full effect Sloane found it difficult to pull his grin into a look of neutrality.
"I should say," Lady Estratus murmured. She gestured toward the table, calling for their now three guests to approach, "You must be weary from your travels. Come sit, we can discuss over a meal."
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Posted: Wed Jun 05, 2013 10:30 pm
Darius went forward as he was bidden to, his own face the same stony neutrality as it had been moments earlier. His sharp eyes took in only the plague knight and his mistress, and seemed to take no notice of the excito that currently used his hair to scramble up to the top of his head, looking eagerly at these new unknowns.
Ah! thought Cyril, this is a Grand Magurgalist! What beauty, what lovely features! And a knight! A true knight! He could hardly keep himself from speaking until he remembered again the right word for the lady's title. Atop Darius' head, now closer to the duo, he swept himself downward in the most fashionable, most elegant, most respectful bow that he could.
"What a pleasure to make your acquaintances. What a deep and abiding pleasure. The greatest I have borne. My lady, may I say that you are striking. Thank you for the offer of the meal, of course, it is too kind. And good sir, the honor is all mine. A knight! Darius, do you see this noble knight?"
Darius' rumbling, unused voice managed to pull itself forward once again. He plucked Cyril gently from his head and placed the excito on the table, where he could get a better view of anyone. But there was something telling in the fact that he did not move his hand after having done so, allowing the excito to decide for himself whether he wanted to stay on the table or return to his Grimm's side. "Indeed, thank you, Grand Magus."
Mary watched the proceedings, only thanking the Grand Magus for her hospitality, and then sweeping to the side to stand closer to Sloane. There was an unguarded, warm curiousity in her eyes as she watched the knight, and she took the seat nearest him, as though she wanted his conversation as much as the Sage's.
Cyril stayed on the table, looking from person to person with his hands on his hips, his bright smile nearly overwhelming his soot-colored face. "What a pleasure," he murmured again.
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Posted: Tue Jul 02, 2013 11:35 am
Now that Darius stood closer, both the Grand Magus and her knight were able to pick up on the rough exterior of Seer Rocque's helper that spoke of more than just being dealt a simple injury. There was more to them than would be admitted and, while this was a cause of worry to Sloane, Lady Estratus was silently confident that things would be revealed as they became necessary. Many years had passed since she last saw Mary Rocque, since hey had even spoken, and as turbulent as the political scene was Sage could not blindly put her faith in even an old family friend but neither could she turn her away.
Lady Estratus' gaze shifted back to the caedos as it made its way atop Darius Goodfellow's head and bowed. Her expression did not change, as neutral as the dagger's Grimm, but she acknowledged Cyril directly and tipped her head slightly in acceptance of his compliment and to Darius' thanks.
Sloane's attention was quickly pulled back as well, gaze lifting though he tried to keep the battle he was having with his smile hidden. Noble, he was called. To be quite honest, that was a first and certainly no compliment any human would have paid him. Though part of him understood it was a compliment steeped in ignorance of all the rumors and stories surrounding him, it didn't matter; he was suddenly humbled. If it wouldn't have been so dreadfully unprofessional he would have thanked Cyril right then but his Grimm called for them to sit. It was a surprise, to say the least, when the Seer took his side at the table but he did his best not to appear offput. In truth he wasn't, but her curiosity toward him was returned tenfold in her direction.
Within a few moments, food was carried out. It wasn't an overly extravagant meal in presentation but the quality, quantity, and food offered was far from humble. Steaming fresh stews and rolls, platters of carved venison, jugs of water and a few goblets of wine decorated the table in minutes and each of them, save for the excito, were given expertly carved wooden bowls and plates decorated with intricate knotwork. As he was unsure whether Cyril's Grimm would offer him food, and Sloane was quite intent on not interrupting the proceedings and making any sort of bad impression, he set to work on pulling apart small chunks of his role and meat, laying his hand flat upon the table top and locking eyes with Cyril to ask if he wanted any.
"We may either discuss after our meal is finished or during, I have no qualms either way. However, I wish to be clear." the Grand Magus spoke, not yet touching the food on her plate, "The nature of this meeting was not discussed in our brief correspondence. I have no pretense in assuming your reason for contacting me revolves around the Grimm and Plague in your care. Is that correct?"
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Posted: Tue Jul 02, 2013 12:51 pm
They sat, Darius halting until both the ladies had seated themselves to do the same. There was nothing really in his straight posture or his neutral expression that said so, but there was a faint impression of his being uncomfortable with the invitation to eat with them all. He said nothing, looking at the Grand Magus sparingly -- she looked familiar, damned familiar, although there was certainly no reason for her to -- and then at Mary Rocque, and then finally at Sloane. Darius' eyes studied him with a professional sort of curiousity, looking at his hands, posture, and the general... edged quality the man had about him.
A bladed weapon of some sort, like Cyril. Darius wondered, would the self-proclaimed dagger prince look similar one day?
It was hard to tell at that moment. Cyril scurried gracefully about the table, peering into dishes, wafting scents up to his non-existent nose with his ghostly fingers, commenting on the general splendor to the servers and anyone else he could generally make eye-contact with. He was, for his own standards, being rather professional and discreet, and felt entirely proud of himself for doing so. He did not speak half so much or so loud as he wanted, and he made sure that nobody else was speaking each time he raised his own voice.
He went to taste something from his Grimm's plate, but quickly pulled his hand back, looking at either of the two ladies to see if they had begun eating yet. Until they did, he knew that a gentleman did not!
After a moment, Mary Rocque spoke, watching the Grand Magus with a look of tenderness and, it could be noted, a faint expression of pride.
"Let there be no pretense here, my lady," she said at last in the smooth, quiet, self-assured voice that was her own. "I have no qualms to tell you all. When we last parted... when a certain... unfortunate" -- she said the word delicately, as though she had no taste for it -- "event occurred, I was told, and for many years believed, that you were dead. These rumors were substantiated elsewhere -- but, no matter. Believe me when I tell you that for too long, I believed this falsehood a truth, and, if you may allow some sentimentality, believed I had no reason, in that case, to return to what I previously called home. In that time period, you may know that I was far from Fellowship reach. I had, and please forgive the impertinence, little interest in Lady Waldgrave."
She paused her story here, taking a drink of water. There was a flicker of change in her expression, some sadness and frustration that weaseled its way into her words, but it was gone as she spoke again. "It is of no matter. I heard news, late coming, of a new Grand Magus. And when the dead ascend to such a position, an old lady is both curious and suspicious of hearing lies. What can I say? To hear the truth, well."
Mary Rocque turned to Sloane then, and put a soft and wrinkled hand atop his arm, a familiar motion that she excused herself for, her fragile blue eyes meeting his without fear but with warmth. "I must say, bless you, child, for keeping her safe."
The word, child, was not said patronizingly, but with some pride and affection, an older woman praising a young man. But there was no ignorance in her eyes. There was only, perhaps, far back in them, a certain hard grimness that spoke of how she felt: to keep Sage from harm was worth whatever measures it took.
Her hand fell away again, back to her side. "I was far away then, and I made my way back. But after so long, I could not come without some curiousity. So I brought you Darius. He is made of good material, I believe."
She waved an airy hand, regaining her good humor. "But if you believe him to be unworthy, we can put him out in the snow until I finish my meals. Believe you me, the wolf will be quite well out there alone."
Darius' eyes dropped. Until that point, he may as well have been deaf to Mary's words. But at that moment, a faint expression, a bare shiver of a smile seemed to tick his mouth upwards and disappear again.
"My," said Cyril at last, wandering over to Sloane's hand, admiring the sharpness of his fingers and ignoring the pieces of bread and meat. He prodded at the finger curiously, smiling broadly as he did so. "These meetings are so dreadfully but wonderfully tense! I feel we are edging to something exciting. Oh! And speaking of edging, I must know. Tell me, my good sir, do you have any knives in your lineage? Or is it improper to ask?"
He looked over his shoulder at Darius, but one of his Grimm's eyebrows went up, acknowledging that he had no idea whether the subject was a touchy one or not.
To speak much at all, Darius thought, was already plenty improper. At least, he thought, the Plague Knight did not seem bothered by Cyril.
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Posted: Tue Jul 02, 2013 1:53 pm
Sloane had also observed the etiquette of sitting only after the women had, though the Grand Magus made no sign she had noticed the gesture from any of them. While Darius' eyes lingered on the knight, Sloane's swirls were locked tightly onto the dagger scuttling around the table. One corner of his mouth remained upturned, brows lifted in curiosity. His attention only shifted at his Grimm's words though he did not retract his hand nor the offer of food in it.
The Seer's words in turn drew both the Grand Magus and knight's eyes, his smile faded but swirled eyes holding a firm interest. At Mary's confession toward Lady Waldgrave, Sloane's eyes widened slightly and he let out a quiet scoff which he was quick to hide by turning away. His uncertainty toward this woman was quickly fading and that single comment helped affirm his growing interest in her. The mention of Benedikta merely caused Lady Estratus to blink, passing no judgment but nodding for Mary to continue. When she did, Sloane's gaze had not yet returned and so he flinched against the Seer's gentle touch. He turned back, not shying away from the contact, but he looked quite lost as she offered her heartfelt thanks and blessings. His mouth hung open just the slightest bit, swirled pupils nervously shifting between her pale eyes in search of an answer that he only received just as she pulled away. Sloane bowed his head once more, looking at his lap and closing his mouth tightly while his brows knit.
It was the Grand Magus' turn to scoff this time, noticing the smile threatening Darius' stony disposition, and she lowered her own gaze to the table a moment. "Unworthy, no." Lady Estratus glanced up, catching Mary's eye with a slight raise of her brow before looking back at Darius. "But if the wolf is more comfortable in the cold, we will not deny his freedom."
Sloane had missed most of that brief exchange, still feeling the light tingle of Mary's kind touch beneath his mail and the steady thrum of his nervous heart thanks to her words. Such a compliment, whether she knew the truth of what transpired, had never been given to him before -- not for that moment. At Cyril's touch to his finger, Sloane was brought out of his momentary reverie and the slight smile returned as he curled the finger the dagger prodded. He didn't mind the offer of food going ignored, it was common for excito to not consume human food or perhaps he felt more comfortable doing so from his Grimm's plate. He pulled his hand back and dropped the offerings onto his plate, then returned the hand to the table, resting his palm flat against the table for Cyril to inspect further.
The question was of slight surprise but it only caused a more pleasant expression to curl his features. "My lineage?" Sloane repeated, finding the idea itself amusing, "I am certain there were many knives, daggers, and other blades forged by Estratus hands." He lifted one clawed finger, set it back on the table, then another, dropped it, and did the same to the rest one at a time to facilitate Cyril's observations. "I am a sword crafted by and for Fellowship hands."
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Posted: Tue Jul 02, 2013 2:38 pm
"A sword!" breathed Cyril, his eyes becoming crescents, the staccato white of his smile spanning his entire face. He whirled toward Darius and then back toward Sloane, as though the energy given from this revelation was too much for him even to focus. He clasped his hands together and laughed -- a strangely deep sound for such a small creature -- in delight as he looked at the tall plague knight. "Why, then, you are my very cousin! Brilliant! And such a well-forged weapon, I see! I do not know what family of mine may have come from Estratus hands, of course, but I know well that I am a dagger, as my very worthy Grimm has let me know. But I am sure there must be some relation, as all we bladed weapons must have. Gorgeous! Simply amazing!"
He watched, enraptured, as Sloane slowly drummed his fingers. He flipped back his cloak and stood very straight as he did so -- the broadness of his shoulders and the slimness of his body seemed very recognizable suddenly.
Mary, finished now with her speech and quite hungry, began to eat, blowing on the stew as she lifted a spoon. "Manners, Cyril," she said pleasantly, her entire bearing quite grandmotherly and unaffected.
"Oh, am I being too familiar? Forgive me, Grand Magus, Sir Sloane!" He leaned toward Sloane, concluding in a stage whisper: "But, really -- I cannot help my marveling!"
As the proceedings took place, Darius looked at Sage, and almost as an aside, so low it was spoken, with something of good humor running under his words: "The wolf is very grateful for your ladyship's hospitality, and seeks to be useful."
He, too began to eat, inclining his head in thanks -- and there was every sign of good breeding in his manners. For all he looked like some feral backwoodsman, it was obvious that either Mary had taught him much, or that he was not quite what he looked to be.
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Posted: Mon Jul 08, 2013 12:07 pm
The excitement radiating from Cyril at this news was quick to infect Sloane. His swirls glowed red, bottoms of his eyes creased from the force of his grin, and his brows raised in delight. Such compliments were foreign to the knight and he took each of them as if they were a prized rose thrown his way. At the Excitos' laugh, one rippled through Sloane as well and he paid little mind to the fact his teeth were fully exposed. "Cousins we may be!" His volume was still kept low so as not to intrude upon the others but it was difficult when the only conversation was the clinking of spoons upon bowls. Cyril's form hearkened to his tincture in much a way Sloane's had not at his size. Perhaps if he, too, had been a Caedos the shape of his body might have been more closely formed to his blade of origin.
Sloane's smile faltered when Seer Rocque offered a gentle warning to the dagger, his eyes landing on her, but the tone she used was not chiding; a gentle reminder. This allowed the sword's expression to soften and he returned to a calm smile, allowing it to linger upon the old woman before looking back to Cyril. His apology was met with a single nod from the Grand Magus, just barely offered a glance while she ate with the manners and posture expected. Cyril's whisper made the knight grin again and he dipped his head in acceptance.
Though low, Darius' words had not gone missed. Lady Estratus took a few more spoonfuls of her stew before responding, allowing the company to think it had been overlooked, but she raised a neat cloth to her lips as she finished swallowing and raised her chin to gaze across the table at the man. His own manners were picked up easily and merely confirmed the idea she had of him already.
"A wolf's uses are great in number," she began, chin raising some as her brows lifted in appraisal, "What does this one have to offer?"
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Posted: Wed Jul 10, 2013 5:35 am
"Cousins," repeated Cyril with some pleasure, rolling the word around in his mouth as though savoring the feel of it. To a plague who was near-obsessed with lineage -- false or true -- the idea of having a true relative was almost too much enjoyment to bear. Yes, if one asked him, Cyril could list his own family up to seven generations back! But Cousin Sloane, as the knight hereafter entered Cyril's mind, was more than a prize. "Yes, yes, that does seem rather natural, does it not? What a lovely piece of luck this is! Well! A knight! I suppose this means I must rather begin some kind of fencing study while we are here -- if we are to be here long -- I say, my good and worthy cousin, do you know of anyone who might be able to serve as instructor? I would, of course, ask my dear and talented Grimm to share his knowledge, but he is rather large, of course, to teach me much."
That Cyril had indiscreetly revealed a touch of his Grimm's talents sailed far over the excito's head. He said it all in a wondering and gentlemanly tone, all very polite, even going so far as to take a scrap of bread as a chair to sit all the more correctly upon. As he finished speaking, he tore a slight bit of his chair and gnawed on it in consideration. One could almost see the plans working in his head.
The expression on Mary's face was one of indulgent humor as she watched it, and as he began to speak of Darius, she opened and then closed her mouth, and hid her smile by eating.
"It is not well to exaggerate, Cyril," she said.
Cyril looked up. He said, blithely: "Oh?"
Darius, for his part, did not seem ruffled, amused, or annoyed. His bright eyes ticked for an instant -- not more -- to Sloane, and then back to the Grand Magus. A look of frank humility descended on his features. The expression was true, and not polite.
"It is true I can fight a bit. I am strong and healthy enough," he said at last. "Not a fool, but I would be a bad judge of that. A good worker. Whatever use you may have of that."
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Posted: Mon Nov 04, 2013 7:31 am
The Grand Magus paid little mind to the exchange between the Dagger and Sword until it overlapped with their current dealings. Darius seemed to pause and so did Seer Rocque, earning a fleeting look from Lady Estratus as she attempted to downplay the caedos' boisterous claim. Sloane appeared none the wiser until Mary spoke, though one corner of his mouth was still pulled into a slight grin as his swirled eyes glanced around the table.
"Have you been in Shyregoed long?" the Grand Magus asked, lifting her chin to address the man properly, "Good workers are always of use here. Better still if they are not fools." Her spoon gently stirred the stew for a moment but her gaze did not break as she appraised him, amber eyes tracing over his haggard features before locking with his again. "Those who seek the Fellowship earn their keep. There is room here in Anica for a good working wolf and his plague, or arrangements can be made elsewhere if the scenery is not to taste." There was a slight hint of sarcasm there despite her otherwise impassive tone and expression. Her attention then wholly drifted to Mary, head dipping slightly in acknowledgement, "And the Seer may stay where she pleases."
It was strange to Sloane, seeing this scene play out before him now that his attention drifted from Cyril. He always attended meetings with his Grimm and at times banter became less professional but this was almost playful. The Infitialis crane his neck, lips parted enough to reveal the sharp curves of his teeth that interlocked and his brows set curiously as he paid the man an appraising look of his own. If Cyril's attitude was any indication, Darius wasn't a bad Grimm so that was an immediate good point, he didn't overstep authority and, overall, truly did seem honest in his desire to work, whatever that entailed. Once that was settled, Sloane's attention returned to the caedos and he leaned a bit closer, covering one side of his mouth with an armored hand to prevent more interruption of the human's meeting-
"I know just the sort you're looking for. He is smaller than you but with quick wit and feet. I'll introduce you to him soon." It had been a long while since Sloane had been able to properly interact with the stunted Plagues he'd brought into his care. The move from the Northern Bases to Anica had been strange for them and for a while still they stayed in his quarters but recently they were relocated to somewhere with more breathing room. A great deal of stunted plagues wandered the halls of the frozen fortress but now a majority of them huddled in the collective warmth of a single otherwise unused room. The teacher Cyril sought was among them, a red leaf fencer who went by Grimaud, whom Sloane assumed would be all too eager to spar with a fellow caedos.
Setting her spoon down lightly, Grand Magus Estratus clasped her hands and watched Darius with a critical eye. "Are there any concerns you wish to enlighten before I consider you a Grimm of the Fellowship?"
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