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Open Hours at the Embassy of the Scales

The Tribune of Cardia opens the Embassy of the Scales in order to offer a venue for those with questions or curiosities.


March 2, 2022, 8 p.m.

Hosted By



Grady Mayir Alistair Bhandn Alarissa Mirk Gianna Cristoph Veronica Mailys Tyche Faye Raven Insaya Jaenelle Patrizio Caspian Massimiliano Savio Vashtalyn Tavalu Giorgio Aconite Wash Maharet Corrigan Monique Sorrel



Arx - Ward of the Lyceum - Embassy of the Scales - Domus

Largesse Level


Comments and Log

3 Armed Confessors, Orva, a discreet assistant arrive, following Faye.

To those that arrive to the embassy's receiving room, the atmosphere is less of a formal meeting and more of a party. There are plenty of fancy snacks, both of the Arvani and Cardian variety, though the Cardian ones are discreetly marked as being quite spicy for the unaware. The champagne flows along with a variety of other alcohols, though these seems rather mundane for the most part. There is even music, though it is quite soft and meant more for background noise than actual dancing. The Tribune herself stands near a desk dragged in from her office to be set up in this larger room to accommodate more guests. She is clad in red steelsilk and her long hair is bound into a sophisticated knot at the nape of her neck. She surveys those that arrive with nods and smiles, occasionally quietly directing a servant to various parties in order to make sure the guest in question is well supplied with a particular drink or other treat. She allows people to wander in from the gardens and servants to circulate with food and booze before she brings the open office hours to an official start.

Tyche has joined the A Pair of Blue Velvet Chairs.

Cristoph has joined the A Pair of Blue Velvet Chairs.

Grady has given up his winter outer garments to Mortimer, who has taken them off somewhere to hang them up (or is just hanging onto them in another room like someone skinned a yeti and stuck him with the pelt). Thus he walks in looking reasonably dressed, rather than like an ambulatory pile of furs and knitwear. His thin face is lit up in an amiable expression that glitters in his hazel eyes while he looks around the room.

Oooo. Snacks. And drinks! Mayir makes his way in, looking around this way and that like he is gawking, because, let's be honest, he is gawking. He swipes a glass of bubbly from a passing servant and then some Cardian snacks from another. Nom.

High Inquisitor Alistair Velenosa arrives. Perhaps to play the part of greeting the guests of the Velenosa? Likely not considering he wears his uniform and seems to be accompanied by a fair number of Inquisitors... although they arrive at different times and different means. Certainly not a coordinated Inquisition effort... just an... appearance. Do the Cardians have more or less to fear from the Crown's Inquisitorial Order? Well technically they don't have to pay taxes. And they likely have some form of diplomatic immunity. Alistair is his typical dour self, as he keeps to the back and notes all who are present.

It's a good thing Sir Bhandn dressed up. He wasn't sure exactly how this was going to pan out, and seeing that the environment is more festive than somber, a bit of tension has eased from his shoulders. In what might be a surprise, he's not alone today! He dragged his retainer out of his reading, and absolutely forbade Aendal from carrying a book through the entire event. So Bhandn is accompanied by a rather nervous-eyed, head-swiveling young man who has his arms tightly wrapped around himself. "Well," is Bhandn's first impression, and he'll snare himself some of the champagne for himself as his companion. "For the nerves," is all he says to his companion, who has to unwrap a hand to take the drink. Then the two of them start to mingle, and they'll sample a taste of Cardian foods, though that's mostly at the knight's urging too.

Alarissa has yet to in truth, step foot in the embassy. Alaricite in place of flesh, she's making her way in while lightly conversing with another visitor. Soft noise comes from the dress as she moves in and she spares a moment to glance around the room before parting from her conversation partner and to get a good look at what the room entails.

Right on time, Mirk arrives in the Cardian embassy, looking this way and that, clearly taking in the surroundings as unfamiliar to him and strange in style and nature. He ignores the snacks, though upon spotting the drinks, helps himself to a glass of Cardian liquor. "Interesting place, isn't it?" He observes to Bhandn, spotting a familiar face. "They certainly don't spare any expense to awe and impress."

Gianna steps in, having shrugged her furs off and handed them to someone else official-looking. She strides over to collect a drink, after conferring with a server for recommendations. She, of course, looks lovely in starlight silk. Big event? Gianna's here? Chances are good she'll showing off a new outfit.

Joining the receiving room would be Marquessa Inverno, escorted by Duke Laurent as they sweep in together. Cristoph gives Tyche the lead upon entering, in that he discreetly clears a path for her to walk as they navigate the crowds. When they pass one of the helpful servants, he takes two glasses of champagne off of the tray and continues moving. Their path takes them to a pair of blue velvet chairs where he sits adjacent to her, offering the glass. He pauses to drink, surveying the other arrivals as they fill up the room. "Ah, look. There's Lord Mirk," he lifts a hand, having politely to the Halfshav lord from across the room.

Veronica is a social butterfly, but those socials usually involve drinking someone under the table, bawdy songs, and very likely some light gambling. You know, to take the edge off. This isn't exactly her kind of shindig. Holding a flute of bubbling champagne, Veronica seems to be treating it more as a prop than a drink. "A lot of people here," she says off-handedly to Alistair. "Though I think the hosts were expecting an army given all the food that--"

Just then, a servant arrives with a tray of treats -- the spicy ones very clearly labeled. Like a challenge. Veronica ponders a moment then lifts a hand. "No, thank you." Not yet.

Mailys made her way around a pass to do her polite bowing to Prince Patrizio, Princess Jaenelle and notable faces that have started to look for glasses of champagne. She was one of them naturally, and found a server near Mayir to pluck a glass from, greeting Pete as her own assistant loomed nearby. "Curiosity or Inquiries?" Mailys asked of Mayir with a smile.

With the path easily cleared, Tyche finds her way through the crowds and to a glass of champagne and some lovely velvet chairs. She claims the seat with grace, the fireweave she wears chosen specifically for tonight's occasion. With the glass to her lips she scans the crowds with keen interest, a quick sip taken when Cristoph points out Mirk, and the man is given a lifting of her hand in a wave. Patrizio, too, is greeted when she spies him with a grin and waggle of fingers. For the woman of the hour, she dips her chin in Petraea's direction, lifting her glass in a half-toast.

Faye arrives at the tail end of some other group, likely unannounced and unnoticed, despite her fancy dress. Maybe it even takes a couple of tries to flag down a servant to put a drink into her hand. But this is the first time she has stepped into the embassy, so she makes her way around the edge of the gathering looking for a familiar face, at least. She approaches Alistair, giving the imposing man a faint smile. "High Inquisitor. Good to see you out of your office. Fancy occasion, isn't it?"

Raven steps in after the who's who have arrived. Attempts to ditch her honor guard have failed utterly so she finds someplace out of the way where they can loiter while keeping a watchful eye on her. This done, large jade eyes sweep over the room, taking note of who else has come to gawk. Where her gaze meets the gaze of those she knows she will bow her head respectfully or flash a smile.

Insaya isn't up to anything at all sneaky! The newly minted senior Inquisitor places a canape in her mouth. Wait for it. The contents of her mouth discreetly disappear into her napkin as she turns an unfortunate shade of pink that does not go with her uniform attire at all. "That IS hhhhhhhaaaaaahhht," she confirms in a half gasp. But with an eye toward the musicians, she comments toward Mirk, "I've never thought the Cardians had much reason to want to impress anyone. At least not this side of the sea, my lord. But you would know better, I expect."

Thankfully Alistair is not the only Velenosa here to participate in the open hours held by Petraea, as Jaenelle sits off to the side. Likely not to socialize though she doesnt appear to be against such either as the wine in her hand indicates, the Archduchess has business to bring before the Tribune. A warm smile is given towards Mailys when the woman greets her.

Hearing Mirk's voice, Bhandn turns to regard the Halfshav lord, and at the question and observation there's something of a smile that quirks on the older knight's lips as he raises his glass to his lips. "Judging by the turnout, you are no the only one to think so," he says back to Mirk. "However, if you're wanting to truly be awed and impressed, go ask the Tribune for a dance. The last time I was here, she insisted I save one for her."

Amidst the crowd that are lingering about, the figure of Patrizio Pravus lingers in his polished armour, though the blade at his side is clearly peace-bound. That he's taken up a glass of some sort of alcohol is almost de rigueur as those emerald eyes of his drift about those who are arriving. The smile and a bit of a nod to the familiar figures of Tyche and Cristoph, though there's perhaps more amusement that finds his expression when he respectfully nods to Grady, who's looking far less like he's doing an impression of those from the south... like himself. Mailys gets a dip of his head, as does Raven. Though there's the air about the prince that he's as much contemplating the crowd as anything to address to the Tribune.

Caspian strides in from outside, tugging gloves off and shivering slightly from the chill. His obsidian hues fluttered around the room, taking in the people and place and a smile played over his face. "Well.. i didn't expect to see so many people here. Oh! and some familiar faces" he chuckled, moving in to mingle the already gathered crowd. he seemed to be trying to take everything in, particularly anything cardian in nature.

There is a smile of delight from Mayir when Mailys greets him. "Ah! Mailys! A little of column A, a little of column B." Her cheeks receive air kisses. "How about you? Do you have business with our Southern friends?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Mirk replies to Bhandn in a deadpan tone. "It's been years since I danced, and I have no wish to come off all the worse for the comparison." He considers Insaya's words thoughtfully, his head canted. "Perhaps. Perhaps it's just a natural inclination towards the grandiose." With that said, he makes his way over to Cristoph and Tyche, offering them both a dip off his head. "A pleasure to see you again, my lord," he says to Cristoph. "And my lady. Did you come to speak to the Tribune or merely to see the goings on?"

Bhandn just might be directing a look at Mirk's back, after Mirk turns to greet Cristoph and Tyche, that strongly suggests Bhandn is considering arranging for the Halfshav lord and the Tribune to light up the dance floor.

"Duchess." Alarissa's made her way to Jaenelle, circumnavigating, but taking safe wine, and not spicy wine. "A coup to house the embassy here. I must admit." She smiles to Janelle. "How are you? How's the whirlpool?"

"I have thought it was the case I am simply very easily overawed." She lifts a glass to Mirk's response, and bows her head in deference to Bhandn.

Insaya has joined the Ambition Couch.

Gianna takes a moment, drink in hand, to bow slightly forward at the waist in Petraea's direction. That done, she has a sip of her drink and considers the room before moving over toward Mailys and Mayir. "And good morning to you both."

Grady has acquired a glass of wine from somewhere, but seems to have just picked it up to be carrying it around, because he's not drinking it. He does lift it to greet Patrizio before smiling at the Pravus Prince. "Princess Jaenelle, hello!" After passing Patrizio, he finds himself near the couch where Janelle sits, and now she's the subject of his broad, delighted smile. "Goodness, I wouldn't have thought, would I, to find you here tonight, with your, ah, the event coming up tomorrow? I can't but think you'll be working through the night putting the last touches in place. There always do seem, don't there, to be those last minute details that crop up, yes? And Princess Alarissa! I had the pleasure of conversing with your husband yesterday."

Alistair glances over to Veronica as she takes note of the snacks and food and treats. He grunts slightly, seeing nothing of interest. Thankfully the Cardians do not have knowledge of his weakness. "I can see now why the Cardians get along with House Velenosa..." Is that a compliment? Or a Criticism? Hard to tell with how flatly he delivers most words.

Raven doesn't seem surprised to see Mayir here, or anyone here, really. A fingerwave is offered to the dashing Grayhope, Mirk is given a respectful dip of her head as is Alistair. Caspian gets a fingerwave as she ambles over towards Patrizio.

"It's good to see you, Lord Mirk. I'm having a terrible time remembering, but have you been introduced to Marquessa Inverno before?" Cristoph asks, inclining his head briefly to the woman relaxing in the other chair. "I would like to speak to her if there's opportunity. But also admit to being extremely nosy and wanting to see who would turn up. What about yourself?" he wonders, his chin now lifting to indicate the room at large.

"Mostly admiration and a bit of historical intrigue." Mailys replied to Mayir, and she rested her arm across her torso to support the arm with her glass, almost mimicking the posture of a cigarillo holder she was absent of. "I brought my latest trinket," she looses her arm to point at a golden amulet that dangles from a cord at her neck. "And I can't keep away from interior design I haven't seen before." Her eyes went around the new room then, and she caught Gianna's wonderful sight. "A good morning to you, Nightingale."

An old man arrives, discreet as a shadow. Massilimiano Buccheri is dressed in his finest, darkest suit to compliment the silver of his hair and the steel of his eyes and once inside he watchfully wanders through the crowd until he finds a couch to haunt, just the arm of it to be exact. Maybe he wants to sit up high. There he rests though, casually people-watching. When he finally unfolds the thin tome tucked beneath one arm it's just to rest it there against his knee, leather-clad, fresh looking.

Massimiliano has joined the Magnificence Couch.

Petraea stands off to herself, surveying her domain here with the same easy confidence that she approaches nearly everything with. She still murmurs discreet requests to nearby servants. For instance, Faye doesn't need to wait for long to have a glass offered to her personally. Insaya, moments after she proclaims that canape to be too hot for her tastes is offered a treat meant to cool the tongue after exposure to the peppers of the south. Cristoph and Tyche, after their toast is returned with a nod, are approached by a servant with a selection of appetizers. Even Alistair, looking glum and wary, is offered champagne, along with the other obvious Inquisitors in attendance. Gianna is offered a smile and a nod of approval for her choice in attire.

After those hazel eyes sweep over the crowd once more, the Tribune nods to the musicians to stop their playing for a moment and she raises her accented voice to say, "Welcome to the Embassy. I am delighted to be able to open our doors to the people of Arx. While we are open to conduct business, any and all are welcome to simply enjoy a little Cardian hospitality as well. If you have any matter to bring up with the Scales of Cardia, simply inform an attendant and I will make time for each and every person present. While you wait, please enjoy the food and drinks. If you have any special requests, we will do everything in our power to accommodate you." With that, she nods to the musicians to begin playing once more and takes a seat behind her desk as her attendants begin to take the names of those who have business with the Tribune.

"And good to see you again, as well," Tyche joins in the chorus of pleasantries with a smile. "Like the Duke Laurent, I would love to speak with her, but my I can also be exceedingly patient if the opportunity does not arise tonight. Plus, I would hate to miss a party." She doesn't repeat Cristoph's question, but there is clear interest in a response as her brows hitch. Perhaps she'll never know, however, because Petraea rightfully draws attention and the Marquessa's head turns to listen.

Petraea has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

"Ah. All understandable," says Mayir to Mailys, when she explains what, exactly, brings her here. "Well. I hope there shall be something quite interesting to hear while we are here." He pauses as the Tribune makes her announcement, and then nods to Gianna when she draws close. "Nightengale. A pleasure to see you." Raven also gets a waggle of fingers.

3 Thrax Guards, 2 Thrax Elite Guards, Lady Teonia Redreef, Aryka Wyrmfang, Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog arrive, following Sorrel.

Blue eyes go from face to face to face. Most vaguely familiar at best. Faces she's seen in the crowd or at other gatherings in the past. Did she win a bet with some of these people? They're not storming up to her in a huff, so that's likely a solid no. When the hostess speaks, Veronica takes the opportunity to sip at her bubbly; keeping her eyes on the Cardia representative. And then an even sharper one to those who enter the line.

"There's been a question on my mind that I had thought to ask," Mirk admits with a glance towards Petraea as she makes her announcement. "Though it's not urgent, so I don't think I'll be the first in line," he finishes, turning his attention fully to Cristoph and Tyche again. "And indeed I have, though it's been some time. I haven't seen her since that discussion between Pravus and the Spirit Walkers." A raise of an eyebrow at Tyhce. "Wasn't it?"

Patrizio smiles as he's murmuring briefly to Raven, even as he's turning his eyes towards the Tribune's desk, contemplating still, but clearly looking to see who is petitioning the Tribune this evening.

Gianna inclines her head to Raven, and Caspian as well; she tilts her chin in Mirk and Cristoph's direction, should she happen to make eye contact. And Tyche, too, because that's just polite.

Cristoph has joined the line.

"The Whirlpool is safe and protected," Jaenelle tells Alarissa, her tone showing the obvious fondness for the bad decision maker. "Though I have recently returned from Lenosia and found the most beautiful garden with the Explorers help. I was tempted to never return to the Capital." She looks around a momet before her attention falls back towards Alarissa, "sometimes a risk is needed to ensure that those who should prosper do, those who offer to help are accepted, and generosity and hospitality are never in short supply." When Petraea speaks, a small nod towards the woman is given as if to show she wishes to be added.

Grady has joined the line.

Jaenelle has joined the line.

Mirk has joined the line.

Caspian returns raven's waves with a finger waggling of his own as well as a smile. he looks to Gianna as she entered, offering an appreciative smile at the stunning gown. he strode over toward her and bowed. "nightingale, its good to see you again! i hadn't expected to see you here, but then i am hardly surprised either" he smiled, glancing to the tribune a moment. "Did you come just to watch like me? or did you have a question"

Alistair watches as his nearby Inquisitor Veronica sips at the champagne. When she doesn't keel over, he too enjoys the drink. Though it then dawns on him they could have just poured his from a special bottle. He takes a brief moment to await the poisons effects. Even tastes a bit of the bubbbly. "Hm." Clearly he is too strong for it. He watches as Petraea makes introductions, and invites those in attendance to step forward with questions.


Faye has joined the line.

Raven has joined the line.

"That it was," Tyche smiles at Mirk's memory, her voice quieter now that people move toward the Tribune to ask their questions. "Too long ago." But she her attention shifts once more to the woman at the desk, and she will wait for the chance to ask her question.

Tyche has joined the line.

Harkles, an Andalashari tradesman, Keme, an Andalashari musician arrive, following Vashtalyn.

Patrizio has joined the line.

Turn in line: Cristoph

Gianna has joined the line.

"Did you? I would hope that you enjoyed the conversation. His grace is a delight and at times, conversation even more delightful. Lord Grady, how are you?" Alarissa inquires. "Your first time here?" She glances to Petraea when the Tribune speaks up but doesn't move to add her name to the list. "An abundance of inquisitors." She notes to Jaenelle and to Grady.

Savio is late, but that's alright, there's mingling, you're allowed to be late at events with Mingling. It doesn't take long to snag a drink, and some kisses are blown to this or that friendly face on the way in. Dressed more in the fashion of Tremorus than Arx this evening, he ambles his way toward Gianna And Friends while casting a curious gaze toward the announcements from the Tribune.

The Corsetina's green eyes move around the room. Petraea in red, Massimiliano in flame-lick black. The Tribune's voice keeps her attention for the announcement, but Mailys loses the conversation around her for a moment. It was hard for her to stop- not merely admiring- being momentarily fixated on each new person and piece of steelsilk that caught her eye.

There are no announcement of names, but simply attendants that discreetly work their way through the crowd to summon people up to the Tribune's desk. Petraea waits on the other side of it with an easy smile, leaned back in her chair as if she is quite at her ease.

Insaya tucks into an uncertain bow for Petraea's hostessing gesture, even though she was the idiot who ate a thing she was warned would be spicy. No longer in danger of clashing too much with the house cooled, Insaya parks herself attentively at a couch, and attentively watches. Of course there *are* a lot of Inquisitors; enquiring minds want to know things.

Raven brightens and gives Savio a broad, warm smile and a blown kiss is sent to the radiant man as he mingles and catches her attention.

Mayir has joined the line.

Gianna raises her glass in a sort of greeting to Savio. "Lord Savio. Good to see you. Have you been here before?"

Raven has joined the Ambition Couch.

"I did, Your Grace, very much." Grady bows his head to Alarissa. "It, ah. A thoughtful conversation, yes? It's rare enough, isn't it, to be able to exchange ideas with a person in such a friendly fashion. I'm hoping there will, one day, be a sequel." When she asks if it's his first time here, he looks around and gives a cheerful laugh. "It is my first time, yes. Am I so obvious? Well. I suppose I must be, mustn't I? I've always been terrible at playing things cool."

When the attendant turns up with the additional tray of appetizers, Cristoph leans forward in his chair and speaks in lowered tones to them. Then his attention drops back to Tyche and Mirk, looking between them as they touch base on matters relevant to them. "And some time since we've broken bread together too," he tells him. "You must have a lot of interesting stories to tell since then. You should ask your question." When the attendant returns again, he breaks away from the pair with some murmured excuses and makes his way across the room.

Cristoph has left the A Pair of Blue Velvet Chairs.

Cristoph has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Vashtalyn finds her way into the Ward of the Lyceum and the embassy of the mysterious visitors from Cardia, and edges into the room, staring around with wide, curious dark eyes as she takes it all in. Dressed stylishly and warm for the weather, the Ravashari merchant hovers at the fringes for now, trying to get a sense of what is going on. She snags a drink for herself, trying to look like she belongs.

When Petraea speaks, both Bhandn and his skittish assistant turn to listen. The latter is frowning in naked confusion, apparently not following something the Tribune said until the knight has to explain something to him in a murmur. Once that is done, the two are absently picking their way through the room, though it's more Bhandn choosing which way to go and his retainer following closely behind. "You must be here for the champagne." The words are addressed to Raven, who Bhandn spotted sitting over there.

3 Proscipi veteran guards arrives, following Giorgio.

When Cristoph steps away from the chair, instinctively Tyche's fingers brush over the seat he vacated, leaning a touch toward Mirk so she might add, "You should ask your question. I agree. And dine with us sometime so that I might hear those tales as well?" The invitation set, she turns to watch Cristoph approach and engage in his quiet conversation.

Caspian looks from Giana to Savio and waves merrily, "Lord Savio! been to long!" he continues looking around the room, staying out of the way so as to allow those with questions in line. Spying Mailys he moves next to her and smiles, "Miss Mailys, its good to see you again! its been to long." he glances around the room, the lute on his back shifting slightly with a slight twang. "Do you have a question to ask this evening? or just here to observe like me"

Talu enters the Cavaedium with a certain smooth deliberateness that belies her appearance. Young, humbly dressed if one ignores the stunning iridescite bracelet adorning one arm, with flat gray eyes and mostly gray hair. Her attention slides over the crowd to Petraea, where it lingers for a moment before returning to the crowd, which she moves to join, though she ignores the line or the attendants. Not here for an audience, it seems.

Savio gives a sweeping and somewhat theatrical bow to Raven, though she is a ways away, and then tilts his glass back at Gianna. "Mesmerizing as ever, gorgeous Nightingale. And of course you have fine company in our brilliant Mayir and the most spectacular and talented Mailys. I haven't been here before, truth be told, and I definitely have nothing important to say to the Cardians. They'd throw me out for wasting their time. I had an unexpectedly free evening, Orland unwisely left me unattended and now here I am."
Caspian gets a beaming grin to follow. "Far too long, Caspian. You all survived the Saffron chain though, I hear. Next time maybe stay in the city, and I will show you a better time!"

Faye perhaps does attribute Petraea's influence to a glass being pressed into her hand, and she salutes the Tribune with a toast of her glass as she filters through the clusters of others gathered. She spots a few other familiar faces such as Mirk and Cristoph and Insaya and nods a greeting to them. She does make sure that her name is on the list to speak with the Tribune, but otherwise she'll be patient and enjoy the gathering.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Mailys before departing.

Raven murmurs lowly to Patrizio and flashes a lopsided grin then makes her way to a perch with the flute of somethng bubbly she's been given. Her eyebrows lift and her head tilts, "I'm not sure what you're implying, my lord. I suppose you have found me out, my lord. What is it that brings you tonight, Sir Bhandn? The same as everyone else I imagine?"

Alistair continues to look about at those in the crowd as everyone mingles about in the party like atmosphere. Is he taking Inquisition specific notes of all in attendance? Or is he just bad at etiquette. He steps towards Jaenelle to speak with the Archduchess softly.

Massimiliano meets Mailys' eyes for a moment as they're wandering away from his steelsilk shirt, all part of his watchfulness, but soon enough the Tribune is making her announcement and finding her desk and his attention is on her for a moment before it's checking out the people who are watching her instead.

"Lord Grady," Jaenelle greets the man after speaking to Alarissa and directiong her intention to speak. There is a bright laugh and shake of her head regarding the event tomorrow, "I would never miss a chance to speak with the Tribune and thankfully I have finished all the preperations made beyond one or two small things which might require some further attention. I have done it so many times at this point that it gets easier and easier each time I decide to schedule one. I used to grow so anxious before larger events, but I find that as I get older it has lessened over time."

"I'd complain that I wasn't invited to the Saffron Chain," Gianna tells Caspian and Savio both, "But I hate boat trips. I may never go... even if it would be wonderfully warm. Goodness. Left unattended? How terrible. You'll have to be my escort for the evening, Lord Savio."

Mailys is jarred back by Caspian's enthused greeting and Savio's name being shouted. That's a common refresher to the present. "A question?" She wasn't prepared to recall exactly what he said. "No, I don't think so." Her grin erupts to Savio's introduction and she bows her head as if she lost no time at all. "I'm glad to see you Lord Savio, and there is Giorgio," The short woman raises her hand to him but that's not much in the crowd around her.

Kit, the grey fox, Primus, First of Monique's Assistants, 1 Greenmarch Guards, Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants arrive, following Monique.

"And here I am, ever so much older than you are, and still tied up in knots over every Assembly of Peers." Grady's flattery to Jaenelle is at once shameless and playful; they're probably not too far apart in age, even if he does look a little older, and the mischief shining gold in his eyes makes it clear that he's not REALLY pretending that it's otherwise.

"They went directly into the jungle. I wouldn't subject you to that," Savio laughs at Gianna's words. "For you -- we'd find beaches and soirees under tropical stars that would make up for the sea voyage. Giorgio will find his brother easy to spot here as Savio is the only person around wearing full tilt Arakkoan nonsense for an outfit. Little glimmer of home. He tilts his head toward a table at the mention of an escort, "Allow me to escort you this way then. Momentarily. I owe you an apology."

Savio has joined the Pearl Table.

Primus, First of Monique's Assistants arrives, delivering a message to Savio before departing.

Gianna has joined the Pearl Table.

"take comfort, this is my first time as well. Though I am not a stranger to the Tribune." Talu's entrance is noted and the bracelet on her arm. There's the faintest dip of the womans head to the gray haired woman before her attention returns to Jaenelle and Grady. "I think it's because we're more experienced. We know to move and stay, let others come to us instead of us to they." Alarissa notes. "Case in point. Lord Grady came to us." Alarissa lifts her glass to grady and smiles.

"It's my fault," Mirk observes to Tyche in a wry tone. "I'm terrible at remembering to keep in touch unless there's something on my mind or some business at hand. I'll have friends I haven't seen in months, then the second we sit down to have a chat and a drink I wonder why I waited so long." There's a slight shrug. "Bad habits from my youth, perhaps."

Raven snorts indelicately at something said by someone near where she sits. Insaya gets an amused flick of her gaze before a crooked, easy grin curves her lips even as her gaze returns to roaming.

Mailys has joined the Magnificence Couch.

Caspian looks to Savio and shakes his head, "Survived? it was marvelous! made new friends, and they tried to eat us and failed!" he laughed with a broad smile, seemingly to have truly enjoyed the harrowing experience. "A few days of.. er.. unease.. but over all it was excellent." he looks to Gianna and grins, "and it was a long boat trip. but your performance would have made the trip go so much faster." he smiled warmly to Mailys "well, im sure others have some marvelous ones to ask! and we get to reap the reward!"

Alarissa has joined the line.

Tyche's dark eyes flicker over a new figure joining the crowds, and there's a small, almost imperceptible catching of her breath. Her gaze lingers on Talu for a few moments longer, but Mirk's reply makes her laugh, and she finds her interest drawn back with a bobbing of her head. "Ah, don't I know that feeling well, too. Thank goodness people are so understanding, or with the responsibilities we both have, keeping friends might be very difficult indeed. But let's make this so sometime soon. If I put it to Cristoph," she flits her hand toward the man still at the desk, "Then I guarantee it will get done."

Giorgio makes his way into the Embassy and the room where the meeting is taking place with little fanfare. The more refined of the Pontelaeus brothers(One of whom is now a stinkin' Amadeo), Giorgio carries himself as proudly as any high born noble might. He offers a smile of greeting toward Mailys and Savio upon seeing them before drifting in the direction of wherever the booze is.

"Ah, Lord Savio, you are always too kind," says Mayir with a bright smile to the lord as he remarks on the sailor. "But it is good to see you."

"Ah, Lord Savio, you are always too kind," says Mayir with a bright smile to the lord as he remarks on the sailor. "But it is good to see you." He then gestures over to one of the couches. "I think I am going to take a load off until my turn comes up." He wanders towards Massimiliano and Mailys.

Mayir has joined the Magnificence Couch.

Caspian has joined the Ambition Couch.

There is another meeting of eyes across the gap in the groups forming to mingle. Mailys meets Giorgio mid-stride across that field and whispers something to him, gives him a smile and a wave of the phylactery around her neck. Then she leaves him to possibly find his brother after drinks. Her destination leads her to an old man, stopping close enough to give a bow of her head to Massimiliano as she requested a seat with a silently extended hand to teh chair.

Gianna wrinkles her nose at something Caspian's said, though she's mostly focused on a quiet conversation with Savio.

Fion, 2 Keaton Huntsmen leave, following Veronica.

Raven bobs her head and gestures, "Of course, Caspian. Insaya, have you met Caspian Wild? Sunshine personified."

Grady laughs and sketches a half-bow to Alarissa, acknowledging her point. "Anyone of taste and wisdom would have..." In the middle of his second round of shameless, playful flattery, his voice dies for a moment, and something alert and quizzical flickers in his hazel eyes. Just for a moment, though, before he picks up like he never trailed off: "... would have done the same." The copious pocket of his woolen pants crinkle as he reaches inside and draws from within a waxed paper packet. "Would you like some candied ginger? I confess I carry it around with me to settle my stomach - nerves, yes? - but it really is quite good." The offer seems to be directed at both Jaenelle and Alarissa, but more Alarissa than Jaenelle.

Small as it is, Talu apparently catches the nod from Alarissa. She lifts her chin a little, studying the other woman, and then tilts her head, eyes moving over the gathered again. She's not short, but she's not terribly tall either, and so she rocks up onto her toes for a moment to peer toward the front of the room.

After a moment of taking everything in, Vashtalyn spots a familiar face, and begins to make her way through the crowded room toward where Gianna and Savio are sitting. "Hello!" she says brightly to Gianna, though she keeps her voice low enough not to disturb others. "Do you mind if I join you?" A warm smile is offered to both Gianna and Savio.

Jaenelle tilts her head to have a quiet conversation with Alistair, a gentle pat on his arm after her words given and she grins in reply to whatever is shared. "Those the same could be said about moving about. Less likely to assassinate a moving target." She turns her grin from Alarissa to Grady, who actually may be the same age as Jaenelle is, "I dont believe anyone who speaks at the assembly of peers will ever not find a knot or butterfly or both in their stomach. Espeically if it is something important to discuss. Lives change in assemblies."

Massimiliano looks momentarily more focused on his watchfulness - ever seen a man you know has seen something? He has, or he thinks he has for just a moment before Mailys is there and asking about a seat and he rises from the arm of the couch for a moment as if just to be polite and gestures to the same seat she's asking about. "By all means. It is a sea of people out there.", he greets, and that's true, the Cardian Tribune presents quite a draw. He's reaching up to touch the back of his neck for a moment, a heartbeat's worth of a strange look in his eyes before he turns his attention back to the Corsetina as she's finding her seat.

Savio's discussion with Gianna seems more on the serious side than the fun side, but he does look up, thoughts seeming to scatter like frightened birds, at Vashtalyn's greeting. "Yes, of course, please do join us. And please forgive me if we have met before, if it's so I am misremembering your name..?"

"I've never known anyone who carries such around except for the nursemaids of my children. Do you often do such Lord Grady? I know Astrid would delight in such." But she has just one hand and that's occupied with wine. "Thank you, perhaps another time though. How kind of you to offer. I do have a question. Have either of you met the woman there?" An attempt at a discreet gesture toward the gray haired woman with the iridescite bracelet. "Most everyone else here I am passing familiar with or know save her."

Turn in line: Grady

As Cristoph rises from the desk and steps away, a grin lingers on Petraea's lips before she nods to her assistant to summon the next who would wish to speak with her.

Evan, a veritable mountain of an Arakkoan, Estevan, an attentive young man carrying a writing desk arrive, following Maharet.

Talking with Jaenelle puts Alistair within range of Grady's open, friendly smile, and so Grady takes the pause in the Inquisitor's quiet conversation with the Archduchess as an opportunity to aim one of those smiles his way. And to extend the waxed paper packet in his hand in a way that extends, at the same time, the offer to share in the candied ginger that he has brought out. "Only when I think I might talk myself into a sense of rattled nerves," he admits to Alarissa. "But next time... Oh, hello!" There's an attendant at his elbow now, offering to show him to the Tribune's desk, and so he excuses himself from beaming smiles at the High Inquisitor and offering him candy to follow along, and turn the full force of that smile on Petraea, instead.

Gianna inclines her head to Vashtalyn and gestures toward the little spot she and Savio are occupying. "Please do. Ah, look at your winter gear. Lovely. Have you two met? Lord Savio, this is Vashtalyn Andalashari. Vashtalyn, Lord Savio."

Maharet has joined the Pearl Table.

Cristoph has left the The Tribune's Desk.

Cristoph has joined the A Pair of Blue Velvet Chairs.

Raven chatters companionably with Insaya and Caspian, her good hand holding a flute while the other, of course, remains nestled in a sling.

Flores D'loto, a deep golden dappled buckskin Torean stallion, Briar, the fleet and agile shrike, Alejandro, a gravely sober middle-aged Torean arrive, following Aconite.

Flores D'loto, a deep golden dappled buckskin Torean stallion have been dismissed.

After Cristoph departs the Tribune's desk, he takes a loop around the room back to Tyche. It's a loop because he has a stop to make along the way. /Two/ stops. One stop is for something else to eat. Another stop is by Talu, who he drops by long enough to whisper something to before his return to the Marquessa.

Alistair seems to have been noding to something Jaenelle said. Or perhaps giving approval to Grady! His hand was even open and accepts the candied treat. Alistair pauses in his conversation to stare at what has been handed to him. Alistair peers at this likely trap and the departing Grady. Hmmmm.

Jaenelle watches Alarissa shift slightly, brows arching as if to silently ask a question, though there is another exchange with Alistair. A shake of her head is given at the offer of candy then, which is perfect as Grady is then requested. "I feel as if I have seen her once or twice in passing but never shared a conversation with her," comes the answer to Alarissa's question. "I dont remember where though. Maybe at the opening party of the embassy?"

The raven-haired Ravashari merchant smiles to Savio, and studies him a moment. "I don't believe we have met. In fact, I am sure we have not. I would have remembered such a face, I think," she says brightly in her crisp accent, as she settles into a chair, beaming at Gianna. "Thank you. And of course, I couldn't go out without my pin," she adds, with a broad smile, touching the brass Bard's College pin, worn proudly. "It is good to see you again, Gianna," she says, setting her drink down. She turns to Savio again, and nods to him in casual greeting. "Lord Savio... a pleasure," she says, her voice like warm honey.

As Grady approaches the desk, Petraea rises to give the man a nod and a smile that reflects his own before inviting him to sit with a gesture as she says, "Lord Deepwood, a pleasure to see you. Please have a seat."

Vashtalyn has joined the Pearl Table.

Grady bows to Petraea, a bow that's right and correct in its acknowledgement in his rank, and hers. It's the kind of exactitude that comes from someone having, at some previous point of time, studied actual books on diplomacy. He still has the waxed paper packet of candied ginger in his hand, something be may not have remembered. He takes a seat.

Tyche watches Cristoph's path, brows lifting in curiosity that will surely be sated when he rejoins her when he pauses not for the food, but to converse with Talu. Still, she smiles, taking another sip of her wine as the conversations buzz around her. When the Duke returns to the chair, she will first steal a touch of food off his plate, and second murmur something quietly to him.

Grady has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Aconite arrives with her usual shadow in tow. The poised Whisper drifts into the bustling Embassy with a smile already brightening her features. She scans those present with a smile for everyone and a wiggle of fingers for those she knows. She's not headed in any specific direction for the moment, just drifting as she weighs the room.

Raven eyes Caspian and then Insaya and scoots a bit away from the pair while she does.

"I was unable to attend that night. I was saddened. I wish I had been able to but matters of Thrax kept me away." She catches the faint raise of brows and with it comes the faintest lift in turn of her right shoulder and takes a heady sip of her glass after murmuring softly.

Insaya scoots a little after Raven, with a smile of manic friendliness that soon loses its edge.

Talu doesn't *quite* brighten when Cristoph approaches, but she certainly seems a little pleased, and she takes the pastry he offers her without any real hesitation. The duke is considered, his direction away from her considered, and then the place where Tyche is sitting is considered. She stays in place for the moment though, examining the pastry with a critical eye, turning it between her fingers, and then taking an in-cautiously large bite. She does not look as though she disapproves.

Aconite has joined the line.

Patrizio watches, from where he's lingering, that faint smile on his lips. But after finishing the liquid in the glass in his hand - and handing it off to an attendant, there's the lifting up of his folio and opening it, a brief leafing through it, as if he's perhaps looking for some notes he'd taken previous to this open session.

Raven says, "tt I'm not a prude I just wouldn't do either of you. See? Entirely personal."

Wash says, "join 3"

Raven scoots further away until she is sitting at the veeeery end of the end of the couch, speaking a little too loudly and flashing a winning grin to Caspian and Insaya

Confessor Tybalt, the one who asks nicely, Confessor Mildred, the one who doesn't ask nicely arrive, following Corrigan.

Wash is driven by curiosity and curiosity alone to visity the new embassy. He is more interested in the drink cart than meeting a Cardian, honestly.

Slipping in silently, Maharet just appears behind Savio like a red headed wraith in order to.. give him a wet willie of all things. Right in the middle of his yapping away. The second he realizes what has happened, she leans in and kisses his cheeks to stall any protest he might make, smiling at him with limitless fondness. "You look stunning, darling." she murmurs in their native language, turning only them to smile at the other occupants of the table as if nothing happened at all. "Good day to you."

Corrigan walks past the doorway with his retinue and immediately takes the side-route to the nearest chair, apparently fully intending to observe unobtrusively.

As Corrigan arrives, he finds the High Inquisitor looming before him. "Senior Confessor. Eat this." The man commands, handing him some candied ginger. "And inform me of the effects, ill or otherwise." Alistair then goes back to observing the party as he is to do.

Monique saunters into the Embassy Domus, pausing a moment to take in the rich floors and wallpaper, the rare art with the green eyes of jealousy. Her gaze cases the joint. Certainly not like she's planning on stealing anything, unless that something is Petraea. That's where the Minx's stare lingers the longest.

Alarissa talks quietly with Jaenelle, words murmured back and forth, the blonde in high ornate clothing letting her gaze flick from person to person in the embassy. Monique's presence when seen is met with a nod of her head in greeting.

"Ooh. Don't you look lovely in all the cashmere," Gianna tells Maharet when the woman greets the others at Savio's table. The look she gives the outfit is downright calculating. "Please, do join us. I'm Nightingale Gianna Delvecchio of the Bard's College; this is Vashtalyn Andalashari."

Corrigan almost bumps into Alistair at that, of course, and he can't help but blink at the confectionary shoved in his hands. So much for his intent. He shrugs and tosses it into his mouth, and then goes and sit somewhere quietly.

Alistair looks back to stare at Corrigan. He slowly puts a hand up to his brow. "Don't eaten random food given to you in a foreign embassy, Senior Confessor. Even if its given to you by me." But he does wait to see if Corrigan bursts into flames or the like. Monique and her 'appraising' glance about is given a look. As if to say, watch out Minx, the Law is about. Though they lack most jurisdiction in these parts.

Raven continues to shatter with Caspian ans Insaya albeit from a 'safe' distance. Her gaze finds Wash and her eyebrows lift, a finger wave towards the familiar face.

Aconite steps to the side watching the flow of the room. This presents her with an opportunity to spot Monique and Aco shifts her direction towards the Noblewoman and drifts her way quietly. Gianna as Vashtalyn are spotted and waves at as her passage brings them into her line of site for a few moments.

Gianna raises her glass to Aconite in a sort of greeting. She continues to speak quietly with Savio, Vashtalyn, and now Maharet.

Caspian sits on the couch, talking happily with Insaya and Raven. As Aconite weaves through the room, his eyes float on her for a moment, as if trying to place a name with the face.

"Alistair," Jaenelle says slowly as he attempts to make Corrigan eat something out of the blue. While she knows it wont kill him there is always the posibility he might forget how to chew and choke to death. This means that Jaenelle has to obviously watch as with any good accident waiting to happen. She holds out her wine that she has yet to drink towards Alistair, "drink this." Its a never ending circle of possible death by consuming. Her eyes do fix on Alarissa with a slight frown for whatever is shared quietly though, and she replies in kind.

Insaya raises an eyebrow, and says across the short space to Alistair, "When you say things like that, Your Highness, it really inspires my feelings of trust. I am guessing this means you do not approve of common food in general... is that why we don't get a buffet at our Obligation Day gatherings, Sir? I mean, I knew that Gut Buster Powder was making the rounds..."

Vashtalyn's eyes sparkle as Maharet joins them and as introductions are made, Vashtalyn offers the Whisper a warm smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Maharet Whisper," she says. She listens to Savio's quieter words, and seems to consider. She glances at Gianna, then nods. "Alright, I will do it then," she says with a smile. She turns to put her name down on the list of people waiting to speak with Petraea, then notices Aconite. She returns the Whisper's wave.

A breath, and then Patrizio's closing the folio that's in his hands. There's a brief nod to his soldiers, before he draws over to where Tyche and Cristoph are conversing, exchanging a few quiet words, and then begins to make his way for the exit.

Vashtalyn has joined the line.

Wash collects a stemmed glass, not really bothered by what is in it, probably alcoholic. Raven's wave attracts his attention and he heads in that direction. "People." He greets with a casual air, still people watching but now part of a group.

Wash has joined the Ambition Couch.

Monique returns a deep incline of her fiery head to Alarissa, adding to it a deep smile for the Thraxian Royal. That smile turns into a 'who me? I would never' smile for Alistair. Which slides fluidly into a beatific greeting of unadulterated delight when the Minx spots Aconite. "How is it you look more and more beautiful every time I see you? Those rings! That honeysilk. I am all admiration and envy. How are you, Renowned Whisper Aconite?"

Alarissa looks to Alistair and the wine, Corrigan and the food and her own brows rise and the corners of her mouth lift into a small smile.

Talu finishes her gifted pastry in little time at all, though she's tidy enough about it, apart from the speed that she makes it disappear. That done, she turns smoothly, with the apparent intent to haunt the refreshments table. She doesn't so much weave her way through the crowd as walk in a direction and compensate when people don't simply move out of the way for her.

Corrigan peers up at Alistair and shrugs, still chewing. He has the presence to swallow before speaking, at least. "I dunno High Inquisitor, it's pretty good. Maybe even worth the trouble.", he chirps before looking about. His gaze passes Petraea, who he reacts to with a fractional eye-widening, and Mayir - who gets the same. His gaze ends on Insaya as she speaks, and shrugs to her. "S'what I'm here for, let me have at it first."

Caspian looks up from the bench at Monique's greeting, eyes darting to the other woman as he smiles, seemingly making a note before looking back to the bench.

Aendal, a jumpy and introverted bookworm leaves, following Bhandn.

Savio seems pleased at Vashtalyn's confirmation. "You deserve all and more. Do not be afraid to claim it," he replies, "And please find me again sometime soon, we will sing together. Excuse me a moment, lovely ones? I see a messenger headed my way, and it is something I ought to intercept. Please be well." With that, he slips away, one last curious look around the embassy cast as he goes!

3 First Legion Centurions, 3 Setarcan Royal Shields leave, following Patrizio.

Mailys, Massimiliano, and Mayir sit upon the Magnificence couch talking away about something ambitious. That is, the word 'ambition' was being tossed around but the noise in the room didn't give much context. The conversation looked amiable and each took turns remarking about the topic of discussion.

Savio has left the Pearl Table.

Insaya taps her fingers against her mouth thoughtfully.

More potential vectors. But Alistair at least can enjoy wine. One of the benefits of being a Velenosa. The wine is endless. He sips at the wine and gives Insaya a bit of a look. "Please do not tell me that Gut Buster Powder is a real thing..." He rumbles out. He drinsk the wine and suffers his fate. Its not like Jaenelle would poison him!

Turn in line: Jaenelle

Aconite bows to Monique and smiles at Monique, "Aren't I always wonderful, Lady Greenmarch? And always flattered in your presence." The Whisper's black eyes drift between the royalty and bows deeply to them with an serene smile. "I'm glad I was able to see you in person. We should arrange a get togehter soon." Again her black gaze drifts across the room for a moment as if entranced by the kalidescope of colors and fashions.

Maharet has left the Pearl Table.

Alarissa parts from Jaenelle's slide, her wine running low and in want of finding something else. If it happens to bring her near or adjacent to Talu, so be it. "It is a lovely bracelet my lady." Alarissa offers to the woman.

Insaya obediently nods her head. "Very well. I will not tell you, sir."

Raven chortles, "I reckon it's obvious when it's been used. I feel not for the victim but for the bystanders. What an ignoble way to go."

Grady rises after a brief, friendly looking conversation with Petraea, and bows to her. He's put the waxed paper packet of candied ginger away at some point, so he's not bowing with candy in his hand, this time. "Thank you again, Tribune. I do appreciate this. I know it's a bit of a bother."

Grady has left the The Tribune's Desk.

Petraea seems pleased after her brief conversation with Grady and stands as an attendant moves to ask Jaenelle to join Petraea at the desk.

Raven checks 'recovery check' at normal. Raven is spectacularly successful.

Corrigan leans over towards Insaya as he continues watching the room, murmuring something to her.

Jaenelle leaves the wine and nods towards Alarissa as she approaches Petraea's desk. There is a dip of her head in greeting even as she settles at the desk. "I believe the last time a desk was involved I was on the other side in that conversation." As those who came before her, her words are quieted for Petraea alone after the greeting.

Jaenelle has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Insaya murmurs something in response, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

Grady circles back around to where Alarissa and Jaenelle were sitting, returning once again to their orbit. Except, of course, now Jaenelle has been called to the desk he was just sitting at. Just like a game of musical chairs!

Kit, the grey fox have been dismissed.

Primus, First of Monique's Assistants have been dismissed.

1 Greenmarch Guards have been dismissed.

Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants have been dismissed.

Corrigan joins Insaya in mirth as he snickers.

Raven eyes Corrigan curiously and clears her throat, "Who's your friend. Insaya?"

Talu has found the pastries, and she's in the process of carefully looking them over when Alarissa draws her attention again. There's another tip of her head, a slight straightening of her posture, and then she looks down at the bracelet as well. "Yes," she says, when she looks up again. "A gift." The woman studies Alarissa now, frank and without any pretense of doing otherwise. "Those are all very lovely as well," she concludes. "Lots of rubies."

Insaya introduces Corrigan to Raven with a little (a very little) polish on. "Senior Confessor Corrigan Greyhope, may I present the Blackheart Raven, in service to the Pravus court? Mistress Raven, my colleague of several years. Not usually a poison taster."

3 Proscipi veteran guards leaves, following Giorgio.

Wash eyes Corrigan at the table where he is standing and raises both eyebrows. "Ah. A Grayhope, yeah, that tracks."

"True," Monique tells Aconite with a throaty laugh, "you are always wonderful. Wonderful being an understatement. Come, would you like to find somewhere to sit? Are you waiting to ask something on the Ambassador?" the Minx asks of the Renowned Whisper, waving to nearby seating.

Corrigan pokes out a hand from behind Insaya to wave at Raven with. "'Lo.", he greets, before giving Insaya a little face. "And it's a dirty job but /somebody's/ gotta do it.", he says with a nod.

"They were gifts. Of thanks. The lord Apollo when he was not a Lord. I loved them so much that he and the Count Amadeo gifted them to me." She looks to the pastry, tilting her head a fraction. "An interesting choice. I apologize, I usually know all who are in Arx. Princess Alarissa Thrax." She offers to the woman as introduction. "And it is a lovely gift."

Mayir glances over at Corrigan when he comes to join the group here. His eyes meet for a moment. Then he shakes his head slightly. Ah. Corrigan. There is a frown and he goes back to his conversation at his couch.

Grady, having rejoined Alarissa, continues what seems to be a running theme of smiling at everyone within reasonable range to be smiled at by now directing that open, welcoming expression towards Talu.

Insaya says, "You'd as well to say I am a knight, because my brother is. Each man and woman deserves to be known and judged for themselves, rather than their families, my lord."

Raven's eyebrows lift and she bobs her head, "Another Grayhope, a pleasure to meet you Confessor Corrigan. I'm Raven of Setarco. I serve Pravus, The Compact, and the Faith. As for poison tasting, I think that should become a euphanism for any drink had in the Lyceum."

Wash says, "Congratulations Dame Insaya. I look forward to hearing about your feats of valor."

Insaya tips up her glass. "I suspect that may be a bit of a wait. I hope you have snacks."

Aconite nods, "Yes, I've got something I'd like to speak with Tribune Livy about but I think I've a bit of time before I'll get a chance. Let's go find some place to settle." She turns to walk with Monique with careful strides. Her smile exceptionally toothy as they weave through the crowd, "What about yourself? COme for the Tribune or the people who've come to see her?"

Monique has joined the Ambition Couch.

Raven belatedly spots Monique and fingerwaves towards the Minx.

Aconite has joined the Ambition Couch.

"My name is Talu," the gray haired young woman replies. "I don't think I have any of those titles, but Lady works as well. Don't worry, I haven't been to many places in your city. Where would you meet me?" The question, clearly rhetorical, comes with the faintest of smiles, a little awkward and very brief, though her mood seems entirely content. Grady snags her attention as well now. "Hello."

"That is fair enough." Grady has joined them and Alarissa shifts her body to encompass the two of them. "Lady Talu, I present to you Lord Grady Deepwood. A diplomat of note. Lord Grady, the Lady Talu." She looks to the table. "What's good thus far?"

Corrigan, for his part, simply shrugs at the comment levied by Wash, telling Insaya, "I dunno what he meant, but Milord has a point. I think." He's half-distracted as he eyes Mayir here and there, shaking his head as he spots the frown. He's smirking, though. "Hardly a pleasure to meet me, Raven of Setarco - plenty'll tell ya that.", he says, leaning over then to quip quietly to Insaya and Raven.

Corrigan thumbs at himself as he murmurs, and snickers once more.

Raven's eyebrows lift and she drawls something to Corrigan before offering a pleasant smile to the ladies who just joined the couch.

Grady bows to Talu when Alarissa introduces him. The bow is correct for a Lord bowing to a Lady, suggesting that he's willing to go along with her claims (claims?) of having a title without question. "Wonderful to meet you. One does seem to run into such a varied crowd, doesn't one, in functions like this?" Given that he hadn't even touched the wine in the glass he was carrying around until he lost it somewhere, Grady doesn't offer food recommendations to Alarissa, choosing a vaguely apologetic look, instead, for having none.

Monique spies Raven's wave just as she turns to search for seating and the Minx offers to the lovely Whisper at her side, "A good place with better friends. Shall we? And I've mostly come to observe. It's not always the words said but the faces as they are said that make for the most interesting conjecture." She settles in at the ambition couch, alongside Aconite.

Insaya stands up from the couches, and saunters toward the Tribune's staffperson for a quiet word about the flow of people up to the desk, While she is up, she drops a tray to drop off her cup, and seeks out Faye for a quiet word.

Insaya has left the Ambition Couch.

Insaya has joined the line.

Wash salutes Corrigan with his wineglass. "I always have a point. Not always good ones."

Aconite says, "Raven, delightful to see you again. Your friend came to see me and I was able to help with some direction. Thank you for that." Aco's brows lift to Wash, "I'm afraid they frowned on my riding in, Lord Kennex. It's nice to see you as well. It's been some time, how is the dock holdin up? I've heard good things." INsaya is given a warm smile of greeting as well and a respectful dip of Aco's head before she looks back to Monique with a thoughtful expression, "I see.""

Raven flashes Wash a lopsided grin, apparently appreciating his commentary.

Alistair watches as Insaya moves to join the line of interested folk dealing with such interesting people in interesting times. The High Inquisitor seems to have no remark as he continues to enjoy his wine, though there is no expression of enjoyment on his features.

Sorrel, who up until now has been blending in with the crowd as much as a tall woman clad in bright red with noble bearing and a bard's heart can blend, meanders closer to Talu with a thoughtful look in her evergreen eyes. She bows her head politely to the slight woman and smiles pleasantly. "Pardon me, but you look very familiar to me," she says with a measure of warmth in her tone. "I apologize for interrupting but... I just thought maybe we'd met."

Corrigan salutes Wash with an invisible glass. "Same here."

"Lady Sorrel Thrax." Alarissa amends to the introductions. "This is the Lady Talu."

Faye is speaking quietly with Lord Mirk, when Insaya slips up along side her and whispers something. "Goodness, Inquisitor. You aren't fishing for a light duty roster next week, are you?" But she seems to be teasing as well as genuinely pleased.

Wash is just having fun, quipping to Aconite. "If I had a horse, or if any horse would have me, I would ride it into the most inappropriate of places. Come to think of it, that's probably why I am such a terrible rider."

Raven's gaze shifts to Aconite and her eyebrow lifts, "Which friend was this, Whisper? You're welcome of course." She looks to Wash and wonders, "Wanna make any wagers on anything breaking to stuffy veneer of the evening, my lord?"

Talu smiles faintly again, brief as before, at both the introduction and the bow. She half turns to look back at the table. "All of them. How hungry are you?" She gestures over the spread. "Those and that are the best ones, or they used to be. People like those artichokes, but I don't." She indicates some sort of breaded oval offerings. "Those are fried rice balls with cheese and sauce. They're very nice. I don't know if the wine is imported." She leans a little. "I think so. Try that too, the dark red." Sorrel pulls her away from the slightly unhelpful food recommendations. "Yes, we have. Hello again, Princess Sorrel."

Jaenelle stands from the desk and offers Petraea a dip of her shoulders, "soon then." With that, she frees the seat up for the next.

Jaenelle has left the The Tribune's Desk.

Turn in line: Mirk

Insaya laughs a little, smally. "Only if you are in charge of the rota, and not the badger. No, not at all. We'll have to circle round and talk later on, though, about some case information. I'm finding myself woefully underprepared. Anyway, that was all I wanted."

Once his turn is up, Mirk nods his head to Faye in farewell and heads to the tribune's desk, taking Jaenelle's former seat without fanfare.

Mirk has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Corrigan lifts from his seat with an inclined head at Raven before sweeping over to stand beside Alistair. He murmurs something.

"The dark red it shall be then." Food though garners her attention. "Though I may be hungry, I can only handle so much and not keen on being fed." Alarissa notes. "I shall have to make note of the fried rice balls though, I enjoyed the rice at mistress maren's place." She glances to Grady. "Unless Lord Grady wishes to taste and tell me?"

Grady laughs and shakes his head to Alarissa. "I had better not, if it's spicy. I think I heard someone warning of such? Not that I mind the heat so much, yes, but my stomach has its own opinions on the matter." Judging from how thin he is, his stomach has its own opinions about a lot of matters. "I know the rice balls you're talking about, however. They're wonderful. Have you had the, ah, those little rolls with the red bean paste inside? I can't think that most of Arx can have discovered them, can they, because the place would be mobbed if they had."

At the Tribune's desk, Petraea speaks with Mirk and whatever she says seems to steal some of the warmth from her expression, replacing it with something very serious and very, very tired.

e Alistair seems to settle into private conversation with Corrigan. Cloak and dagger, out in the open, as most is done when enjoyed at parties with wine and fancy treats. Any servers or other guests are given a glance from the High Inquisitor that says rather plainly, do not bother them.

"Oh, good. I thought so. I'm not always very good at remembering the names that go with faces," Sorrel says with a bright smile to Talu, sounding quite pleased that the woman recalls her. "I hope very much that you are thriving now, and I'd love to catch up with you at some point when you have time."

Corrigan hooks his thumbs into his belt as he huffs out a sigh, joining Alistair in peering about every once in a while as they quietly converse.

After she steps away from the desk, Jaenelle writes a quick missive and extends her hand upward to the crown of her head. Ellani emerges from the center of the alaricite crown, and crawls into the waiting palm to be given the paper to deliver. Strangely enough, spiders make perfect messengers.

Alarissa notices the spider and shudders.

Corrigan rolls his eyes lightly as he murmurs his next bit.

Massimiliano has left the Magnificence Couch.

"Beans," Talu says, with just the faintest wrinkle of her nose, though her mood seems unchanged. "You," it seems a general you, "do like beans though, it makes sense." Sorrel gets a tip of the head, a brief study, and then she rolls her shoulders back. "I'm better. I took Cristoph, Tyche, and Alis on a trip, and I was tired for quite a while after, but that's done. Look at this," she gestures toward the pastries again. "Try that one."

There's a bit of playfulness in Grady's smile to Talu. "I would say that's rather a brilliant deduction, except I did just talk about enjoying the buns with the paste. Takes a bit of the shine off of it, yes? But then again, these things always seem, don't they, to be rather obvious once one knows how they were done."

Alarissa glances to Sorrel, brows furrowed but doesn't remark. instead, she's putting down the wine glass and looking to the pastries and when Talu indicates one, Alarissa's taking it up with her right hand. "Not fond of beans. Or seafood. Really, I must be the worst wife to an islander if I don't eat fish." There's a reason there's always something land based in the sea of seafood at the Thrax table. She offers to split the pastry with Grady since it seems like it's not spicy. "The Duke Laurent is a lovely gentleman. He saved my life over ten years before. Brigands trying to take out the High Lord. He got me off my horse and to safety."

Gianna continues to speak quietly with Vashtalyn at their table. She's extending her hand toward the other woman, the ring on her finger twinkling.

Sorrel nods to this, smiling to Alarissa as she listens to the conversation. She doesn't seem too interested in eating, though. "I have the privilege of calling Her Grace Princess Alis my patron, and Duke Laurent is a dear friend as well. He is the salt parent to my children, and I have a great fondness for his family," she offers.

Corrigan rolls his eyes once more at something murmured to him.

Mirk has left the The Tribune's Desk.

Turn in line: Faye

Faye has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Grady is happy to split a not-spicy pastry with Alarissa. Most people with queasy stomachs aren't very adventurous about food, but he seems to be an exception, because he doesn't even ask what's in it. He'll even take charge of the dividing of the pastry in question, if he is invited to do so.

Wash leans back in his seat, taking a self-satisfied sip of his drink.

Faye approaches the Tribune's desk, greeting her warmly. She joins her at her desk, leaning in to talk quietly.

Raven is engaged in a rather intent chat at the couch of ambition, her lips pressed and there's a look of mild exasperation.

Tyche hears her name being spoken and she looks up from her quiet conversation with Cristoph, curious as to the source. It is made clear, and she smiles to Talu's recounting of their travels, a quiet comment spoken to the man next to her who was apparently along for them as well!

"Beans," Talu says again, judgingly. You are being judged, Grady. "Seafood is great, except for the clams, and oysters. I don't think those are even real meat. Shrimp is usually too much effort, but they're nice breaded. I think I like beef the best, though. Or wild boar. Venison is nice." She selects another pastry, though it's not one of the ones she just recommended. There's a careful sniff at it, a thoughtful look. "Duke Laurent is a very good man," she states, more solemn. "Honorable, thoughtful, brave. Princess Alis and Sorrel as well," a glance toward the latter. "They've helped me." Distraction arrives, however, and Sorrel is peered at. "...What is a 'salt parent'?"

Alistair checks composure at hard. Alistair is successful.

Alistair stares at Corrigan like he said something bout his mother. Then again she was probably a cannibal, so most that could be said would be proper.

Mailys has left the Magnificence Couch.

Five, a probationary assistant leaves, following Mailys.

Mirk leaves the Tribune's desk with a serious expression, his gaze a little distant, half lost in thought. He offers a nod of his head to Cristoph and Tyche as he passes, then says to the former, "Thank you for nudging me to ask my question, my lord. I'm glad that I did."

shrugs dramatically at Alistair in response.

Corrigan shrugs dramatically at Alistair in response.

Aconitespots Mirk and lifts a hand to wave in passing before turning back to her table. The vibrantly dressed Whisper seems to be musing as she speaks.

Insaya walks to join Corrigan and Alistair, though she isn't saying much. Or really anything. She just stands with them, at the flank, serious now.

Wash lifts his glass to Caspian, nodding. "Your kindness will be remembered Champion."

Vashtalyn whispers together with Gianna in almost conspiratorial fashion as she admires the ring, then she scoots her chair back with a wistful smile, and stands up. "I'll let you know," she says to the Nightengale. "Be well, Gianna." Adjusting her skirts, and then her hat, she movves off toward the refreshments, browsing among the food items to see what is available. As she moves closer to the pastries where others are gathered, she gathers seatouched wool skirts in a little curtsey toward the well-dressed obvious nobles. "Pardon me," she murmurs toward Alarissa, Sorrel, Grady and Talu, squeezing in as unobtrusively as possible. She reaches for a pastry, trying not to rudely insert herself in their sphere.

Gianna exchanges a few last words with Vashtalyn and excuses herself from the table, leaving an empty glass behind. It is quickly swept away by some server or another. Gianna threads he way through the crowd and toward the exit.

Grady has either too much, or too little self-awareness to worry about being judged for a love of red bean paste. After splitting the pastry with Alarissa and remarking upon its sweetness and sticky nature in a polite sort of way that falls short of appreciative, he says his goodbyes and drifts out, off to do whatever it is that Grady does when not being social. Annoying Mortimer, probably.

Gianna has left the Pearl Table.

"It is a individual who is appointed by the parents of a child, to guide them through life. In spiritual matters, teach them, that sort of thing. Different names for the different parts of Arvum. The Mourning Isles calls them Salt Parents. In the Oathlands, they are witness. In Velenosa they are.. Best liars I believe. The northlands proclaims them to be Speakers for the child. Witness is what we called them in the crownlands. They are a part of growing up. To be one of the ones to bear witness to a child is a great honor." Alarissa offers up in explanation to Talu even as Vashtalyn is worming her way in and Alarissa's standing back a step.

2 House Deepwood Guards, Mortimer Ridgewattle the Third leave, following Grady.

Mayir has left the Magnificence Couch.

Pete, a Grayhope account manager leaves, following Mayir.

Wash has left the Ambition Couch.

Wash has joined the line.

Raven's eyebrows lift and her gaze tracks Wash with an air of mild amusement.

Aconite laughs quietly under her breath watching Wash stand and start to move. She takes the wine bottle from Caspian and the glass and thanks him quietly before pouring herself a full glass.

Monique snorts a low laugh, off-key, finishing off the glass of whiskey and setting it aside. "Thief!" she accuses Wash, rising. "But I'll allow it since I've got to take my leave and *someone* should tell her. Good evening, all. Whisper Aconite, I'll be in touch. How could I not?" she adds with an impish grin.

Caspian looks to monique and laughs merrily at her outcry. he bows his head, "always a pleasure Lady well and stay warm" he offers a wave as the woman prepares to take her leave.

Raven bows her head, "Always good to see you, my lady. No doubt I'll see you soon."

Vashtalyn gives Alarissa a smile that is partially grateful, partially apologetic, and snags her prize, one of the spicy pastries. She retreats a few steps, setting it on a plate, along with a few other finger foods, mainly vegetables, that have a more cooling effect on the tongue. She turns back to the table she had been sitting at, only to find her champagne glass was whisked up. She turns again, to find a servant standing there with a new fresh glass. "Oh! Thank you," she murmurs, before edging a little away from the crowd. Eventually she returns to her seat, letting out a slow breath, as if she'd accomplished a great feat of some sort. She wets her lips a moment, glancing around, then begins to tentatively nibble at the pastry she had snagged, her dark eyes watching the room and the people around her. Occasionlly her gaze strays toward the Tribune behind her desk, her gaze curious, as she patiently awaits her turn.

Wash turns and sweeps a bow to the departing Monique. "If you have any other good ideas, be sure to message me!"

Aconite has left the Ambition Couch.

Monique has left the Ambition Couch.

Kit, the grey fox, Primus, First of Monique's Assistants, 1 Greenmarch Guards, Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants leave, following Monique.

Aconiteglances across the room and towads the Tribunes desk before slipping out with Monique. A wave given to Wash, Raven and Caspian as she departs.

Briar, the fleet and agile shrike, Alejandro, a gravely sober middle-aged Torean leave, following Aconite.

Petraea rises from her desk and gives a somewhat chagrined smile to Faye and then accepts a brief hug from the Inquisitor before she nods for the next waiting to be brought forward.

Faye has left the The Tribune's Desk.

Turn in line: Raven

Raven's eyebrows shoot up as Faye hugs the Tribue. She murmmurs polite excuses to her companions at the couch and rises to approach the Tribute who is given a respectful bow and polite smile before she joins the desk.

Raven has left the Ambition Couch.

Raven has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Talu listens to Alarissa's explanation quietly, though it doesn't stop her from making the new pastry in her hand disappear, or from plucking up another one just as the princess is finishing. "An honorary position of caretaker and teacher. I understand. I was wondering if you made statues out of salt, or turned humans into salt for some reason. That makes far more sense." Petraea draws her notice - or at least her visible notice - for the first time since she entered, but she regards the hug as little more than curiosity before looking back to those around the table.

"Exactly as Princess Alarissa has said," Sorrel agrees with an easy smile, nodding once. "I am from the Oathlands by birth, and it felt nice to have that link to my homeland. But we use the words used in the Mourning Isles, for my children are Islanders."

Faye does not look exactly happy with some of the information she was given, but she wanders back in the direction of Insaya and other members of the Inquisition.

Mirk raises his eyebrows at the hug, then heads over to have a quiet word with Faye as she returns, offering a polite nod of his head to the other members of the Inquisition nearby.

12 House Velenosa Guards, Ibasia, the Velenosa Lady-in-Waiting, Ellani, the palm sized spider leave, following Jaenelle.

Caspian sits on the now empty couch, cleaning up the empty cups and glasses left at the table as he watches the people ask their question. He watches Faye hug the Tribune, and a smile plays over his face for a moment. he chuckles softly to himself and moves to finish cleaning.

"Statues of salt..." Alarissa looks a little baffled at that thought. "No, I don't think we can do that." A glance to Sorrel then to the untouched pastry in her hand that she's carefully putting down on a passing serving tray. Nary a bite taken from it. her wine glass is taken back up and the drink sniffed gently then sipped at. She's heard about Cardian wine before. Potent stuff. She does regard Talu as the woman consumes more. "I think I see Washburn. I should go pester him. Lady Talu. A pleasure to meet you. Princess Sorrel. I shall see you later."

Wash stands idly a respectful distance from the Tribune's desk. He is close enough to attract attention and far enough away to allow for privacy.

Raven rises, bows and departs.

Raven has left the The Tribune's Desk.

"It's a lot of work," Talu notes, of salt statues. When Alarissa excuses herself, she dips her head, not really bow but acknowledgment. "Pleasure," she echoes. With yet another pastry finished, she takes her own advice and retrieves a thin glass of red wine, though she doesn't actually drink from it. "Why use so many different words?" she asks Sorrel. "One would do."

Turn in line: Tyche

Raven has joined the Ambition Couch.

When Tyche is directed toward the desk, she leans in to speak quietly with Cristoph and then she is on her feet, stepping gracefully up to Petraea.

Tyche has left the A Pair of Blue Velvet Chairs.

Tyche has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Insaya ducks her head in agreement and wanders back toward the couch, subdued and anxious.

Insaya has joined the Ambition Couch.

Vashtalyn sits and nibbles at her spicy pastry, trying it out with different vegetables to see how it compares with each. She takes the occasional sip of champagne, watching as the crowd thins a bit. She starts to eye the door herself, as if considering leaving. Instead, she stays put, opening her pack she always keeps with her, and pulling out a bit of embroidery to work on while she waits. Vivid violet and blue threads mingle with green as she begins to idly satin stitch a row of morning glories onto a length of starsilk sash.

There's a dip of her head to Talu and then Alarissa's indeed making her tinkling way over to Wash. To settle in beside her cousin and tilt her head to him and murmur with a confused smile.

Caspian has joined the line.

As Tyche approaches, Petraea gives the woman a long look, filled with obvious admiration. Maybe it is for the dress. Maybe for the woman. Probably for both. Still, whatever dark clouds seem to have stolen over the Tribune's expression in the wake of previous conversations seems to be lifted a little just by looking at the Marquessa.

"Really, I mean, who grabs a false arm." Is about the only thing heard from Alarissa's direction and there's a few sharp gestures with her wine glass that threaten to spill the drink.

Raven checks composure at hard. Raven is successful.

Raven rises and flicks a glance towards Alarissa. She bites the inside of her cheek and schools her expression studiously, bowing her head respectfully to the princess as she turns and darts out.

Vashtalyn glances up from her embroidery as Tyche makes her way toward the Tribune's desk, and for a moment, she too just stops what she's doing and stares. She's staring at the abundance of fireweave, her eyes roving over the exceedingly rare fabric with a tailor's appreciation. She presses her lips together, then reaches for her glass and takes a long drink. She sets the glass down, and with an effort, returns her attention back to her embroidery.

Wash clearly doesn't share or fear Alarissa's ire. He is containing his mirth as he replies about the stupidity some people labor beneath, including himself. Then he pats his butt.

Raven has left the Ambition Couch.

3 Black Fleet Reavers leaves, following Raven.

"We use different words because there are different cultures. Although the Compact is unified under the King, the principalities are quite varied in styles and traditions. I found that out firsthand when I married from the Oathlands into the Isles," Sorrel explains to Talu with a measure of thought, and she also reaches for a glass of wine. "It was quite a shock. I could not believe at first how different it was. That there really were people who felt the way they did about thralldom and its purported merits."

Wash says, "Awww. Poor Natasha. I'll have to pay her a call."

Tyche has left the The Tribune's Desk.

Whatever the exchange between Tyche and Petraea, when the Marquessa turns away to return to Cristoph's side, a faint grin remains at her lips and she pauses to speak quietly with the Duke before inviting him to exit with her.

Turn in line: Alarissa

And then there's a touch to her shoulder and Alarissa's directed to the Tribune. "I'll be back" she promises Wash, passing him her wine to hold and starting to make her way to the desk in question and the woman seated there.

Alarissa has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Wash stands awkwardly with a wine glass in each hand. And irrespective of boundaries, customs and manners he does a taste test.

A dark look crosses Talu's features at the mention of thralldom - or perhaps at 'merits' of same - and she takes a moment before asking, "But you killed all of the Eurusi slavers, yes? In your battle southwards?" The woman takes a sip from her wine glass, very hesitantly, and then another that's less so. "One monarch, with several smaller monarchs beneath that work together due to old alliances, treaties, mutual gain, and tradition, but very distinct regions with their own traditions, food, titles, though not languages, and there are all these little kingdoms and families that you fight with all the time due to broken treaties, broken trust, land disputes, and tradition. Then there are elves, which you forgot about but have now made treaties with, and the *other* elves that are still at war with you, even if you forgot them, but are largely all dead, aside from those who decided to go to sleep, or become trees for some reason. And there are more elves that no one spends a great deal of time thinking about because they live very, very far away, where they supposedly don't bother anyone, even though they're always bothering someone and making an enormous mess of things." Pause. "I never paid attention to politics when I was younger, is this right?"

Mirk steps away, ending his conversation with the Inquisitor, and offers a nod of his head to familiar faces. "I'm going to take my leave as well. I hope everyone continues to enjoy themselves, and have a lovely evening."

Wash gives Mirk a farewell salute with his glass. Then... confused, he salutes Mirk with the other glass. "Stay warm Lord Mirk."

Alarissa dips her head to Petraea then... bows as well to the Tribune.

By the chairs, Cristoph has been keeping his own company quietly. Does he occasionally glance around this room and people watch, yes. Does he people watch the Tribune's desk while Tyche is speaking with her? Also yes. When she returns to fetch him, he draws himself up to his feet. Her whisper is caught and the smile he returns to her immensely fond, "Lets go then." To those they both know, he offers farewells in passing as they move to the exit. He slows down by Talu, catches the full summary of the world at large, chokes back a laugh and keeps going.

Sorrel considers what Talu says, and then nods in a manner that suggests she is conceding to this summary. "Yes, that's accurate. I cannot say that it's necessarily a good system, but it's the system that we have, and we can only work to improve it. We did kill many Eurusi slavers, yes. I suspect that there are more who need killing, but travel these days is difficult, it seems," she replies to the gray-haired woman with a somewhat wry smile. "We're lucky we're starting to remember now, as I understand it. We've got Problems, and they're bigger than our understanding."

Five, a probationary assistant arrives, following Mailys.

Cristoph has left the A Pair of Blue Velvet Chairs.

1 Inverno Ensign, 1 Inverno Captain, Cornelius, a studious looking attendant, 4 Setarcan Royal Shields leave, following Tyche.

Rupert, the Laurent Archivist, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Laurent veteran guards, Tyche leave, following Cristoph.

Aegis, a large red Oakhaven bloodhound, Rurik, a prodigal assistant leave, following Mirk.

This time, Talu does brighten when Cristoph passes by (or at his laugh, that's more probable), though her attention remains on Sorrel. "It's much easier to keep track of," she notes. "I don't know if it's better or worse, but shorter is less of a headache." Her head tilts again, and she makes a small, displeased noise in the back of her throat. "You should tell me if you learn of any on this side. I wouldn't go to Skal'daja, I'm not that stupid, but ships sink easily enough. The people *on* the ships can be more worrisome."

Vashtalyn glances over toward Talu as she speaks, studying the gray-haired woman through her lashes curiously. She'd not paid the woman any mind really before, but that's a lot of words, and hard to avoid hearing some of them. Her lips press into a thin line at the mention of thralldom, and she turns back to her embroidery, which seems to calm and soothe her. The thin line of her lips softens, then turns into a thoughtful frown, before evening out again to something more neutral. She glances up as Alarissa bows to Petraea, and then she tucks the embroidery back into her pack.

Talu adds, "The politics in this are simple. There are slavers, and then there is everyone else. I like it when things are that simple."

Corrigan visibly gawps at Alistair. And then crosses his arms petulantly.

Wash stands like a statue where he was, awaiting Alarissa's return.

"Unfortunately, we haven't had much traffic in, either," Sorrel replies to Talu with a small smile, nodding a bit as if she rather agrees with the woman's assessment of slavers. "And I have a fleet of ships with knights on them who are willing to help you with the slavers so that it's easier to sink their ships. You may enjoy sailing with the Order of East Light at some point. We are revitalizing old traditions that have been forgotten but still have much value."

Insaya turns away from the Inquisitors a few feet away, where she is still keeping tabs and puts her hands against the sides of her face in a very clear *la-la-la, not hearing* gesture. She makes a comment to Caspian on the sofa, blowing air out through her lips in a thin stream after.

"I don't sail," Talu says, with a slight lift of her chin, though nearly as soon as she says it something about her seems to deflate just a little. She sips her wine. "I don't think those are the same traditions. Are they? I'm not sure how many traditions you had."

Wash interjects, aghast. "You don't what?"

Talu says, "Sail."

Wash says, "Where...where are you from that you came to Arx without sailing?"

"That's fine. I'm fairly useless on a ship," Sorrel replies to Talu with a little shrug, commiserating. "And we have so many traditions that sometimes we just make up new traditions and pretend they have long and storied pasts."

Talu blinks at Wash a few times, before she notes, in a fashion that suggests she thinks maybe he's just forgotten, and she's trying to be helpful, "You have roads."

Wash narrows his gaze at Talu. "You didn't answer the question." He confirms Sorrel's assertion with a nod. "She is bravely game about going to sea though, to the Princess' credit."

"Another bottle soon, yes? Maybe? To auction." This over her shoulder to Petraea and a wink as Alarissa's stepping away and back toward her cousin by blood.

Turn in line: Vashtalyn

Faye finishes up her drink and hands it to a servant who is somewhere near her elbow, ready to take it. "I'd better be getting back. Don't drink too much, friends." She's only teasing a little.

The High Inquisitor continues to watch from the side with his other Inquisitors and Confessors, his eyes falling on Talu during the exchange with Wash. The man seems to be drinking in all the informations aid and not said.

Vashtalyn has left the Pearl Table.

Harkles, an Andalashari tradesman, Keme, an Andalashari musician leave, following Vashtalyn.

Turn in line: Insaya

3 Armed Confessors, Orva, a discreet assistant leave, following Faye.

Wash takes a moment figuring out which glass belonged to Alarissa. Did he switch them in his hands when he did the taste test? He doesn't remember.

Talu says to Sorrel, "There's no getting away with that when your elders live so long. You make something up and pretend it's a good idea, then pretend that everyone else who doesn't think it's a good idea is a stupid no nothing, and if you're important enough it works. Then it's 'innovative' and 'bold'." Back to Wash. "But you *do* have roads."

Insaya nods at the couch, gets up and trots to the desk with the attendant, her jaw setting a little.

Insaya has left the Ambition Couch.

Wash says, "I have a lot of things that are not the answer to my question."

Sorrel grins a bit toothily at Talu, amused for the moment. "See, that's also an excellent approach. It's all in how you present things. It's even better when you can convince people it was their idea in the first place," she agrees, then eyes Wash.

Five, a probationary assistant leaves, following Mailys.

Alarissa leans over to sniff the glasses and takes the one that she's fairly certain is her own drink. Then there's a kiss to Wash's cheek in a purely fraternal fashion. "I need to get back to the estate. I promise Eleyna to tell her what went on in here. Give Catalana my love?" A glance to Talu. "Lady Talu, again, a pleasure. I do hope you enjoy your time upon our shores. Sorrel, I'll see you at home when you eventually return."

Wash nods. "When she gets back from Stormward." Wash assures Alarissa. "Give ours to Cerilla." His daughter Cerilla is being fostered in MAelstrom.

Talu shrugs at Wash, the movement looking a little exaggerated, or at least unnatural. "I've been in Arvum for a long time. There are a lot of ways to come to Arx. Walking, horses, carriages, ships, little boats that come down the river, sometimes people decide they don't want to use their legs and make other people carry them, probably by being bold and innovative." Alarissa gets another one of those acknowledging nods, "Goodbye, Princess Thrax," she says, and then says to another Princess Thrax, "yes, exactly."

"Lady Talu, I think you are being deliberately obtuse." Wash says archly. "But I forgive you since I am being unnecessarily nosy." He lifts his drink to his lips. "We should never speak of this again." He pauses. "I am Wash Kennex. In case I didn't introduce myself."

The High Inquisitor continues to watch the exchange between Wash and Talu, with the occasional glance to Insaya and her private conversation with the If Alistair has thoughts or ponders about who is being obtuse and who isn't... he does not say them outline. No he simply continues to enjoy the poisoned wine.

Corrigan takes the lull in conversation to pick up one of those glasses of poisoned wine. He looks about conspiratorially. And then downs it without a care.

Alarissa has left the The Tribune's Desk.

A flock of ladies-in-waiting leaves, following Alarissa.

Talu stares at Wash for a few moments, before saying, "Yes." And then the stare ends. "No, you didn't introduce yourself. Hello, Wash Kennex."

"Hello." Wash sips his wine.

Sorrel takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. She takes a sip from the glass of wine she picked up earlier and then promptly forgot about. She licks her lips and watches the room pensively.

Talu appears to be expecting a bit more from Wash, but when it doesn't come, she turns back to the refreshments. It takes her a few more sips to finish her wine, and then she selects two more pastries, and one of the fried rice balls she'd pointed out earlier. A plate is made use of, but utensils go entirely ignored.

Wash is adept at failing to meet other people's expectations, their disappointment is the garden in which his insoucience grows.

Petraea and Insaya share a few words between them, looking a little grim. Finally, the conversation seems to draw to an end with the Tribune shaking her head sadly and then looking to her assistant to indicate the next who wishes to meet.

Insaya looks a little defeated and nods her head gravely, making a bow from the waist. She steps away, and gives her coat a tug to straighten it out, and rejoins the Inquisitors. "I need to go make an entry to my notes at the Archive," she tells them. "Though if you need me to stay and argue with you about something, I am sure I can play advocate a while."

Turn in line: Wash

Wash makes sure that no one else is pushing themselves forward and he trots over to Petraea's desk. "I'll be brief." He promises no one in particular.

Wash has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Wash takes a deep breath before launching into a long rehearsed speech and then a florid bow.

Whatever Wash says to Petraea at the desk leaves the Tribune momentarily speechless. No small feat for a woman who is used to addressing the Cardian Senate. For a few moments, she just stares at the man and then, with a shake of her head, starts to chuckle before offering a few murmured words in return.

Wash bows again and backs away, heading for the door with a jaunty step. "If it is within my power Tribune."

Wash has left the The Tribune's Desk.

Turn in line: Caspian

Talu lingers a few more moments near the refreshments table, and then, after selecting another rice ball to go with the first, she makes her way out. She takes the plate with her.

Caspian stands up from the couch and moves to the desk. he offers a smile. "Thank you!. i wont take much of your time, you must be exhausted."

Caspian has left the Ambition Couch.

Caspian has joined the The Tribune's Desk.

Alistair turns to look across the gathering that dwindles out. "An interesting gathering of openness... Tribune. I look forward to the next meeting. Perhaps I will do more then just watch." A moment of silent. "That wasn't meant to sound like a threat. Thats just my natural state..."

Petraea glances toward Alistair in the midst of her conversation with Caspian and then says with an amused smile, "We are always delighted to entertain you, High Inquisitor. Whether you choose to sit back and watch or decide to participate. I must admit that I am curious as to what kind of questions one who is famed for their abilities at interrogation might ask me."

Insaya sighs. Were the dynamic a little different, she might be patting the man on his arm. However, his person is sacrosanct and she just GOT the new job... "We know, Sir. We know."

3 Armed Confessors leaves, following Insaya.

Corrigan simply beams a smile at Petraea as Alistair says his peace, though he says nothing for now - shifting over to just behind the High Inquisitor and taking a back seat to the conversation.

The line has been dismissed by Petraea.

Caspian stands up and bows to Tribune with a smile. "Thank you so very much." he turned, and moved toward the exit

Alistair watches as Caspian departs, seeming happy with his answers. "Some days I wonder if I am better with my ignorance. But I hope my Inquisitors were mannered enough that you did not consider it an interrogation." A glance around the Embassy. Clearly not one of his cells in the Panopticon. "Long days and pleasant nights to you... Tribune."

Caspian has left the The Tribune's Desk.

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