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By Fire's Light
Roderick was hustled towards a door with a drape on it. It was a red drape. Why is there so much red? He barely had time to turn the handled before he was pushed at the door and pressed against a half elf girl holding an instrument. One of his hands had accidentally swiped across her chest in a clumsy fashion that seemed much in tune with his artificial facade. His sideways eye glancing off into the distance. I beg your--

A quick shove from the elven servant had him tripping readily and he stumbled into the hall. No talking! The door swung shut behind her and then she glared at the man who tripped over his feet and fell in front of Holly, probably looking like one of the world's most abused servants due to his bodily disfigurement. Roderick grunted as his shoulder dipped into the floor. It was his sheer ability to take a fall that made sure he didn't tip over any of the tables and their decorations nearby. Rather, it simply looked like he had hit hard when really, he had protected his vitals. Clumsy oaf! The wretched serving elf kicked him in the shin with her pointed toe.

----

The steward finished speaking to the lord of the house about the entertainment and began to get ready to invite in the new first act.

----

Keplas knew that there was only a short time to make it to the safe that he knew so very very well. He would rob this house of its most prized possessions. The powerful would see just how sore they could feel to be bested out of the things that made them feel greater than the average man.

By Fire's Light
Sir Balgareth was smiling as Holly's enthusiasm increased, but their conversation was hurriedly interrupted by one of the manor's servants. The out of breath servant prattled on about a last minute schedule change and he shook his head, his mouth curving in a small frown. To rush a performer earlier than their scheduled time was deplorable. His estimation of the group had dropped due to their lack of promptness. They would not live down the shame of it for quite some time, Balgareth would see to that himself with a few well-placed comments this evening.

The girl let her case slide to the floor and hunched over to dig around in its confines as she fished out a piece of parchment and slapped fresh ink upon what she had found. The older man accepted her piece of paper with a polite smile, being careful not to stick his clean fingers into the potentially disastrous fresh ink. Of course, my dear. We shall be in touch. He watched her as she hurried after the servant, her hair bouncing against her back, the sashaying of her hips in her youthful vigor. He held the piece of parchment up now that she had departed and looked at the information. It was still wet so he had no choice but to fold it against itself before tucking it into a pocket. A man like him could not afford to have ink spattered fingers when singing during a ballad where he must use his hands to convey as much emotion as his deep voice. He had seen the notes under the words that she had written, but thought nothing of it.

----

As the maid leading Holly turned a corner into a new hall, she bumped shoulders with a man who just happened to be turning the corner at the same time. His black hair was pulled back in a tail and his dull gold eyes were startled a single moment before they dropped submissively to the floor. He bobbed his head in a short bow. Your pardon... Keplas apologized and then stepped around both the maid servant and Holly going in the opposite direction without even casting a glance at Holly.

----

Roderick had managed to find himself in the grand room. The silver tray full of rolls that he was carrying was heavy and, quite frankly, the manual labor was something he was not quite fit for. His steps which were graceful on the field were less than graceful when there were so many servants dancing around him. It was certainly a dance that he couldn't understand. Not at all. The tray of rolls was lifted from his fingers by a deft grasp. I'll take that. Ya go head back to the kitchen now, ya hear? Grab another cheese platter. His lordship won't like it if the cheese ends up all gone with no more to go around. Off with ya now.

Roderick jerked as the heavy set human patted him roughly on the rear end, his eyes wide with startlement. I beg your--

She waved him away as she bustled past him and he found himself pushed along by an elven woman who didn't even bother to make eye contact when he glanced at her. Her pinched lips said she didn't want to talk either.

Where...?

Kitchen. No talking.

Roderick nodded numbly. What else could he say? I don't even... I feel her somewhere, but where...? And the kitchen? He was starting to get a bad feeling about all of this.

----

Melagor Baelenathil sat with his mother on his left hand side and Lord Rowemont at his right. His fair complexion was better than most high elves. High cheekbones, angled blue eyes, and pale blond hair that seemed like a warmer version of white were his defining features. He was attired in clothes of variety of blues and coppers. His undershirt was white with wide sleeves that clasped more tightly at his wrists. Over it was a doublet of cerulean blue trimmed with copper threading in intricate patterns. He had a chain of silver around his throat, a medallion of rare value though the majority could not be seen. His fingers had several silver rings on display, masculine settings all with glittering gems inset of blues and reds or designs of gold. His fingers of his right hand were clasped against his wineglass filled with a rich red vintage made in the south, the heady fragrance subtle and delightful.

His mother, the lady Arendinalla Baelenathil, was smiling pleasantly and exchanging courtesies with the Lord Pouivan at her left. Her dress was a wealth of lace and ornamentation. It was the color of fresh butter and sewn with threads of red in patterns just as intricate as those of her son though hers also included pearls deliberately attached. The dress's color was one that nearly matched her hair which was pulled up in ringlets that curled down her head and shoulders like a cascade of waterfalls, the gleaming length of it to her back. Her lips were bright red and her green eyes were shrewd though they were displayed in a pleasing manner.

The steward, an elven man of middling years and brown hair, leaned in to inform his lordship that the Twilight Twins were delayed and that the entertainment was only mildly delayed as the second in line would be hurried along. Lord Baelenathil nodded, only a minute creased in his lips indicated his displeasure and that was only for a moment as he picked back up his conversation with Lord Rowemont at his side. It was not an auspicious start to their party...


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