Book 1: Crownfall, Act 1: All The King's Men

[JohnnyWeird]

Crichton refills wine glasses, and raises his own.

"As you say, sir. Cheers."

[GuyWithSword]

Aurelia raises her glass of wine as well. "To success! And to our new and hopefully lasting alliance." She drains the rest of her glass. This really is good wine!

"I propose that we remain flexible. Some of us may be able to assist in multiple missions. We can meet up periodically to update each other. You'll know where I am. My look will be...eye-catching at the ball."

[Zorbeltuss]

"Do you have another look?" Mercutio quips. "Either way, anyone having any interest in me would hardly be surprised if I happened to seek out the company of an eye-catching beauty"

[Vardaen]

"Good, then my questions are more pragmatic now. Are you housing us until then? Do you have these pins and invites we need? How about a little help in making sure we are dress appropriately..." he glances at the half naked woman, "...and do you have a library I could look at to do some reading about the noble houses and people planning to be present. Being prepared goes a long way toward success."

[JohnnyWeird]

"Victory lies with Preparation, as the Strategos Vernisant was wont to say. Though in that vein, Miss Aurelia's point about flexibility is a sound one. The more we are ready for, the more we can do."

Crichton sips thoughtfully.

"The Lady's books might prove useful for your needs, Master Theodrix, but might I be so bold as to recommend the College of Heralds? I can direct you to a clerk in the archive who is quite hospitable for a modest sum."

[ManWithDoor]

The Lady tilts her head. "The Gala is later this evening, and you can use the rest of the time as you wish. You can stay here and continue chatting, and perusing what information we have on the important attendants. You can run over to the College of Heralds. Whatever you wish, as long as you all show up as a group at dusk, to get through the entrance line. The Pins are your ticket in, nothing else is required."

She whispers something to her maid, who goes into the back and retrieves a satchel full of pouches and objects. "So as to make sure you have whatever clothing and accessories you need, there is money for each of you. And as a starting reward for your information gathering so far, a number of extra trinkets as a show of support."

OOC

Sorry, the job hunt has been taking up most of my emotional energy. I'll try to play catch-up as soon as I can.

The 500gp is the 'extra' I told all of you to spend during character creation, to save some time.
The extra items I'll put into a Loot Thread, and people can claim what they want.

[Vardaen]

Theodrix smiles, "Excellent, I'll take some of these..." he takes a few of the items, and his ticket and pin, "I would like to just remain here, I'll need some time to clean up and get dressed. My hair is a mess, and there is not enough time to go wandering about." He then spends the rest of the day prepping for the Gala. He takes a bath, cleans and polishes all his gear, he tucks in weapons and such in secret places all about his person. He dresses, re dresses, gets his hair done, adds some perfume, checks his breath, his teeth, his skin. He eats too, and doesn't want to go into this on an empty stomach in case he has to drink too much to work his skills. By the time the Gala is set to start he's ready, like a preened rooster.

[ManWithDoor]

The Lady offers advice on any personal preparations that an individual may desire. Salons for hair styling and make-up. Clothiers to fit your clothing properly. Jewel merchants for that extra bit of bling to draw attention to the color of your eyes. Everything that would be necessary to make you all look like invited guests / sycophants invited to the Gala. As you leave, she brings up one more point. "Oh, and there will be a late arrival to join you. He had a previous engagement that prevented him from meeting you here. Mr. Mondegreen will be wearing the same Pin as yourselves, so simply look out for that." And with that you leave to finish off whatever tasks you desire.

----------

The Senate building is bathed in reddish-gold light, as the sun sets at just the perfect angle to highlight the beauty and grandeur of the famous landmark. Thousands of years of history have unfolded at this location. Stones may crumble and architecture change, but the weight of significance is steeped in the very earth itself. And tonight the rich and mighty gather once again, perhaps to write a new chapter in the saga that is the Kingdom of Taldor.

The main stone walkway is kept clear by a cordon of city guard, allowing the Senators and other notables to pass in peace up to the Gala. Many use the situation to show off their outfits, wave to the onlookers, or chat with at least some privacy with a friend. The line for aides, staff, and other attendees is ... less glamorous. You all are grouped together by the guards in the line for "people useful to persons of import". Aides, minor noble attendants, and other gofers. The line progresses ponderously, and it looks like it will take a few hours to reach the front.

Dozens of overeager merchants and hawkers attempt to sell a variety of wares to the literally captive audience. The kitsch appears to mainly consist of novelty Taldan flags and phony pieces of historical memorabilia. Several others in the line bemoan the wait, touting their respective level of importance based on association with their affiliated nobles and senators.

The entire affair is quite tiresome.

OOC

@Grimbold - feel free to join the Thread whenever you want. Either meeting the PCs in Line, or once they get in.

[Grimbold]

A middle aged man, with greying black hair, is standing right behind them in the line. He is wearing travel clothes, they look worn, but hastily cleaned. He is using a long, sturdy staff for walking and a slight beer belly shows he likes a good meal and a drink.

[JohnnyWeird]

"A lovely sunset while we wait."

Crichton's clothes are flawlessly tailored, but neither the pattern nor the color are remarkable in this crowd of dandies and poppinjays. His lip twitches when he sees a particularly luxuriant mustache; he would love to have grown one himself for the occasion, but the beard tax is prohibitive.