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Tales of Faerun


AurianaValoria1

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That afternoon, after Menarses and the instructor were finally satisfied with the state of their performers' skill level and costumes, Rhaine headed for her chambers for some peace and quiet before the chaos of the next day. It seemed she was perpetually irritated as of late, and she needed some time to herself to recuperate. Zorica, on the other hand, went through the winding halls of the estate looking for Amendale. The upcoming performance had her nerves frazzled, and she needed some piece of mind that she felt only he could provide...

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As the festival drew near and more guests arrived to the estate, Llhunarra couldn’t have been more excited. Of course she had to work in a day, acting as a guard as she had said she would, but even that could not dampen her mood. Groups like this lot had countless valuables, many of them not really even keeping track of what they owned for the most part. Such gratuitous wealth amongst Manarse’s guests made it all the easier for the young rogue to line her own pockets with every item they happened to…misplace.

 

Now, she had not stolen from another in several months as she was doing her best, but this was just far too tempting. The way they wore multiple bracelets so that the metal rings jingled against each other or the ring for every finger just begged that the jewelry be taken. For the most part Llhunarra found her way into a room here and there when it was otherwise unoccupied. With so many around her slight of hand was not the best strategy, not wanting to risk stealing from someone directly with so many other eyes around. Stealing from empty rooms was safer, the rogue not wanting to be forced to flee into the desert. On top of potentially angering Menarse’s, she figured it best not to draw the attention of the others in a negative way. Playing it safe Llhunarra continued to pick away at the numerous guests, acquiring mostly small items so that she might easily hide them in her pack or on her person. All in all though, it was turning out to be quite the profitable festival and it hadn’t even started yet!

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Shalena loved how lively the estate became as more and more guests arrived for the festival. When she wasn't practicing dancing or trying out the costumes, the piratess talked with the guests as well as pickpocketing them on occasion. The fact that quite a few of them looked down on their group made it all the more tempting and easy to steal from them.

 

Nawen on the other hand stayed away from the guests. She was really looking forward for the end of this festival, and hopefully an end of their stay at the merchant's estate. Gods knows to what more 'uses' Menarses might put them to if they stayed longer.

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As the afternoon turned into evening, and the evening gradually slipped into night, Rhaine kept meditating on her upcoming performance and what it meant for the celebrating people of Mulhorand. Even with her understanding Menarses's reasoning behind it and her wanting to pay him back for his generous hospitality, to some extent, she still felt a bit uncomfortable 'dancing' the praises of deity other than her own. Of course, Nephthys's sphere was respectable and even related to her own patron's to a degree. However, she could not help but feel that her representation might be inadequate, and perhaps even insulting; the goddesses themselves would laugh at the adventurers right alongside their people on the morrow.

 

And what would Kelemvor think?

 

A part of her was confident that he likely cared very little for that sort of thing. Performances such as these were, more often than not, for the sake of the celebrants themselves rather than the gods they praised. Yet she knew his eye would be upon her as always, perhaps even in an appraising way this time, and that did little to help her stress levels; what if she disappointed both Nephthys and Kelemvor? Menarses had no idea he might be asking her to please two gods instead of one...

 

Brushing her thoughts aside, she forced herself to go to bed early to ensure she was properly rested.

 

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Conall and Argyros, meanwhile, stayed up late into the night making sure that none of the guests disturbed the party members. Though the two were positive most of them would not dare go near any of them - being so far above them and all - they could not be too careful. With this many people in one spot, it was too easy to hide theft and other illicit activities....

 

Heidi found herself in an odd position - a plethora of potential customers were before her and not one of them would deign speak a language she knew. In fact, most of them stared at her as if she had three heads. Imhiros explained that the concept of a gnome was alien to most Mulhorandi; they merely saw the small folk as a species of dwarf. Heidi took great exception to this and, resolving that two could play the game the nobles played, turned her nose up at them like they did her.

 

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Zorica found Amendale in Menarses's library, perusing the stacks of well-worn, musty-smelling books. It was not surprising, considering the elf's interests and appreciation for quiet. Trying not to scare him, she peered carefully around a shelf and whispered, "Hey...got a minute?"

 

Amendale looked at her, quirking an eyebrow. "Sure thing. Not like I'm doing anything constructive to speak of whatsoever." He smirked. "What do you need?"

The half-drow smiled weakly and bit her lower lip, "Well...it's about tomorrow..."

 

"Nervous?" Amendale asked.

Her amber eyes were wide as she wrung her hands and nodded, "Yes...I've never been this afraid in my life. What if...what if I run off stage or something stupid like that? Or...freeze up? Or maybe they throw things at me because I'm horrible..."

 

Amendale carefully considered the question for a few seconds, "I doubt you will be. You've had plenty of practice, after all. You're certainly not lacking for courage....and if anyone throws something at you, I'll light their pants on fire."

She pressed her lips together in an attempt to keep from laughing, but she was unable to prevent a chuckle from escaping them. She swatted at his arm and then crossed her own atop her chest, "Amendale...I'm serious. I've never done anything like this before. Ever. How can I get over this...shakiness? I feel fragile, like I'm going to break or something."

 

Amendale chuckled too, enjoying the idea of one of any of the more arrogant houseguests dancing frantically around because his hindquarters were aflame. He was still grinning when he answered Zorica's question. "Well, I've never been a performer myself, so I don't know much regarding the details of what goes on in the mind of one. I always had my nose perpetually stuck in the pages of a book- usually a romance, of course - in a library like this." He shook his head, "Anyway, though, I do have some passive knowledge related to it up my sleeve, given my parentage...and not much else." He grinned. "I always heard my mother say that all you had to do was perform well within the first few minutes of a dance, and once the crowd started warming up to you, enjoying the performance. The rest of it comes naturally, so long as you've practiced it enough. Which you most certainly have, might I add."

She smirked, "Yeah, but what if I conveniently forget everything the instant I get up there? Do I just...improvise?"

 

Amendale's mind sparked with the workings of a plan. "Well, as long as you aren't supposed to be matching the moves the others are doing, then I suppose it's possible....but maybe I can help you make sure you don't forget. Or don't feel the fear in the first place." He smirked, "Nobody would be the wiser. It'd just be another tool you use to add on to the spectacle, no different than the outfits or the makeup or the wings. Wouldn't harm anyone."

She hesitated, "Are...are you sure? How will you do this?"

 

"Magic," Amendale's eyes flashed eagerly. "There are spells out there that affect one's mood. They can take away your fear and replace it with confidence, others that will even improve your memorization. The tides of battles have been changed with them before...but the stakes are not so high here. It would do nothing but help you stun and dazzle, I promise."

"Well," she glanced to the side and sighed heavily, "If you think it can help...all right. Just be subtle about it."

 

Amendale gave her an impish smile. "Trust me, I know exactly what I have in mind. You'll be fine, I'll make sure of it."

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The following morning, most of Menarses's workers were up and about before the sun broke the horizon. Players prepared their instruments, singers practiced musical scales by humming and trilling their voices, warriors polished their armor and weapons for mock battles, and other entertainers ate hearty breakfasts - including the newly-discovered western treat called 'bacon' - provided by the estate's talented cooks. The dancers would not be needed until late that evening, and so the merchant prince allowed them to sleep late without disturbance.

 

Regardless of this benevolence, Zorica was the first to awaken. She found herself unable to eat anything for breakfast, her stomach was fluttering so badly, and so she merely walked around the commons in aimless circles, avoiding the gazes of everyone else there.

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Weyland paced restlessly around one of the common rooms, shield resting on his back and his blade in its sheath on his belt. Already there were a great number of people lounging about in an arrogant manner. Some of them carried themselves haughtily and kept their noses near the ceiling. Others simply sat down and drank from their mugs like they owned the place. Suddenly he understood why Menarses had decided to assign Arland a more secluded area: he's blow a gasket in here faster than Weyland could point out the snot in someone's nose, since they seemed to enjoy presenting their nostrils to anyone that wasn't a Mulhorand native. The heat was horrid, which seemed to inflame tempers, but unfortunately for Weyland, there hadn't been any fights for him to break up so far. As far as he could tell the only thing an incensed Mulhorandi did was sharpen their dagger of a tongue. With all the talk being thrown around the room Weyland tuned out most of the conversations he heard, but the snippets he caught (aided by some sort of spell that let him understand languages, Weyland couldn't figure out for the life of him what it was) were enough to make him almost- almost - want to instigate a few fights of his own. But he was better than that. Besides, if any of them got a little too barbed with their comments, he shot them something in (temporarily) fluent Mulhorandi. The embarassed shock on their faces was worth it every time.

Still, spending any more than ten minutes on the job quickly got boring, and soon Weyland had to motivate himself into even keeping a proper eye on anything. He wished something would happen to alleviate the tedium of the job. He was just careful not to wish for anythign too bad. Some cheeky deity just might throw it at him to mess with him.

Then, right on cue, two people shouted simultaneously and stood right up from their tables. Their eyes caught sight of one-another from across the room and narrowed, and they started towards each other. Only to trip on their boots and fall on their faces....after their pants slid down around their ankles and exposed their undergarments for the entire room to see. One of them was wearing a bright purple silky thing. He was especially laughed-at.

"Oh my, I wonder how that happened." Weyland heard Dri's "voice" in his head just as he stood up from his spot leaning against the wall. The mischievous laughter she shuddered with was undeniable.

"You know, I'm supposed to find the cause of such a disturbance." Weyland had trouble swapping back to Common after he had been speaking Mulhorandi for most of the morning. "After a detailed search and investigation, I have discovered that they're too dense to do up their belts properly."

"And accidentally put the wrong rings on this morning. It seems they mixed them up."

"Oh, my. It's just not their day, is it?" He grinned and looked at her, where she'd appeared from nowhere beside him. He adamantly denied the fact that she filled his stomach with butterflies.

"No, but I think it might be yours." The mirth in her voice turned to warmth. And then she presented the large plate of bacon she was carrying. "As long as you don't eat more than your half, at least."

"You're a lifesaver, Dri. Don't mind if I do." He turned to the fashionably-challenged victims of Dri's mischief and went back to Mulhroandi to say, "Please sort out your valuables- and your pants- between each-other before presenting yourselves again. For everybody's sake." and for all of their haughtiness, a few people in the room renewed their guffawing. He got a glare in return from the victimized....but he just shot an unimpressed, deadpan expression right back at them and waved as pretentiously and infuriatingly as he could for them to speed along on their way. Then he looked back at Dri. "Yep, it's my day alright. Wouldn't be if it weren't for you, though." He planted a kiss on her cheek.

On a completely unrelated note, that was when Dri turned beet-red and almost choked on her bacon.

"Hey now, choking to death is a sure-fire way to ruin my day!" He teased. She swallowed, laughed in silence and swatted him harmlessly on the arm. He laughed and ruffled her hair affectionately....making sure not to use his greasy bacon-fingers, of course. Her cheeks maintained a rosy pink pigmentation for a little while longer after that.

"Wouldn't want that." She fired back once she'd regained her breath. Weyland wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. And then ate some bacon.

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Sybille, meanwhile, was sitting bored over breakfast. She saw Llhuna slinking around and shrugged, not particularly caring about what she was doing, as long as it was mostly harmless. She decided, however, that she'd yet to properly introduce herself and decided to remedy that.

Next time Llhunara came by, Sybille was leaning up against the wall by the doorway. "Good haul?" She asked, smirking. "Just try not to let the jingling give you away. You don't strike me as an amateur, though." She raised an eyebrow. "You're fine, though, I'm not the type to care about it if it's got to do with these snobs. Any Westar can spot the pattern a mile off, though. You know, I don't think we've been properly introduced yet. I'm Sybille Grey, merc that's a little far from home." She grinned. "I caught your name, but not much else. If you're the talkative type, at least."

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Sitting alone, Azuris was still engrossed in one of his books until an odd sound caused him to lose focus, looking up from the pages a strange sight was before him. Hexol's cat was somehow floating up in the air, lazily moving in between the chandeliers, purring loudly as he went.

 

"What...in the hells?" Azuris asked with a highly confused look on his face as he watched the cat.

 

"I didn't do it." Came the voice of Hexol as he peered into the room.

 

"Then what?"

 

"I DIDN'T DO IT!" Hexol yelled before quickly running away, leaving Azuris alone with the floating cat. Seeing no other course of action, Azuris shrugged and went back to reading. After all, it wasn't his problem nore was there any way for him to fix it.

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Humming to herself Llhunarra admittedly didn’t even see the female until she spoke. Normally the rogue was so much better at hiding her…activities from others, but perhaps the ease at which she had acquired her recent goods had caused her to lax a little. It was a wonder that all these guests had so much wealth considering how unobservant they were. How had their own servants not lifted all their expensive baubles from them before coming here?

 

“Hmmm?” The red head glancing over to the human as she so casually leans against the wall. “Oh…yes to be quite honest. Have you seen the countless rings and bracelets that these fools wear? It’s almost as if they wear extra so that if they are to lose one it’s impossible to notice…all the better for me I suppose.” The elf says with a smile, altering her course to face the girl. She had seen her around of course, but beyond the long string of introductions that first day hadn’t really spoken to her. Having been called out she figured she best entertain her with a little conversation just to make sure she did keep her mouth shut.

 

“The names Llhunarra, it’s a pleasure to meet you Sybille.” Still wearing a smile , the half-elf almost always smiling, she dips into a courtesy as she introduces herself. “What else do you wish to know about me? It seems you already have an idea of my profession and skill set.” The playful female adding a small wink to the expression.

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Shalena woke up unusually early. After eating breakfast with her crew and listening to them bragging on how much expensive looking items they stole, she walked around watching everyone preparing for the festivities. Something she was really looking forward herself.

 

Nawen also woke up fairly early, and after brief breakfast went to check up on Rhegar and their horses. As soon as she made sure they had everything they need and that the animals weren't frightened by so many people wandering the grounds, the drow left the stables and went back inside only to find Zorica pacing the area anxiously. "Nervous?" She asked the half-drow.

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Zorica glanced up to see Nawen and gave a weak smile. "Yeah...I am. Nothing's really helping, either," she replied.

 

At that moment, Rhaine came down the stairs, sighing heavily as if to ease her own nerves. The Doomguide's nervousness, however, came from an entirely different source than the half-drow's - more of a fear of disappointing. She overheard what Zorica said and chuckled lightly, "Well, at least that first movement is all of us together. Perhaps that will help."

 

Rhaine then spotted Sybille and walked over to her table, nodding to the warrior, "Good morn, Sybille. Ready for this evening?" She saw Llhunarra was also with the Grey, and so she smiled to the half-elf as well, "Good morning to you, too."

 

A few minutes later, Conall walked in through the side doors, an expression of distaste on his countenance. He moved to stand beside Nawen and leaned slightly towards her, muttering so only she could hear, "They've got animals caged for a performance later, some of them poorly-treated. I don't like this."

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"I take it running away isn't an option?" Nawen asked, the tone of her voice indicating she wasn't joking. "I wish I could help, but the only thing I can offer is to make some tea to calm your nerves, I think I still have some herbs for it," she said but before she could say anything else Conall approached them and said something that she really didn't like.

 

"Well, that's something that needs to be changed," she said to Conall. Words alone were enough to anger her. "If only our dear host paid as much attention to what's going on as he does to the women."

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