IC

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Antiva City
​

 
​

"Sometimes you need to play dollhouse to achieve your goal. Your plan is decent, but flawed. So is mine. Hell neither plan is good, but your plan puts us all at risk, and half of Thedas as well." Theron sighed, rubbing his forehead before continuing, "Even the slightest bit of evidence of us tampering with an Advisor to the Royal Crown's belongings will get us all killed. The Crows do not fail in killing their targets, especially those that make an enemy of the Antivan Crown and Merchant Princes." Theron scoffed a bit, "Then what will you do? Hide for the rest of your life as you know the Crows hunt you down. The Crows do not give up. They are the reason even the Qunari don't invade Antiva. They are the reason why even the mighty Tevinter Imperium only fight the Qunari. They are the reason Antiva has no formal Military. Not only will you have to fear them, you will have to fear all of Thedas. They control the world, you want to seek refuge in the Free Marches? Denied. Orlais? Denied. Even Fereldan. Denied. So tell me, mage, what do you do then? You rot and wait for the Maker to end your life." 


Theron just sighed, "We go with the plan that won't end in political genocide and the death of your comrades. We will play dollhouse, and that is that." Theron looked at Josephine and then Zevran, and continued in a more somber tone, "I see you are willing to throw multiple lives away just to follow a lead that could give you no answers. We play it safe, we let the experts do their jobs. We simply mingle, gather intel from the nobles and we wait for confirmation from Zevran. Period." Theron crossed his arms, waiting to see if anyone, besides Katriel spoke. He simply nodded at her as she revealed her name to everyone.

 

[marorda]

Lanassa took a sharp breath through her nose as she was regarded to as a kid. "I should inform you, I am older than I look. And I am really quite capable of more than just wiggling into small places." She sharply looked at all people in the room, even though not even everyone had spoken to her yet. Lanassa smirked. "If it's a ball we're going to, I'm sure to have some... fun. I know the game, I know it well. As a matter of face, I have been playing since I actually was a kid." That should make it more than obvious what she was. Besides, as Josephine stated, her being quite the archer. Her being a kid was actually not a bad thing in the situation of sneaking into a ball and having some chit-chats with the nobles. Granted, she hated nobles and would prefer to stick a dagger in their guts rather than sharing tea and biscuits. But unless her part in the game was doing the stabbing, she would refrain herself from doing so. Lanassa could both do the chatting up to someone, prying the secrets out one word at the time, and poisoning someone, backstabbing them, turning the words said against them, or what not. All part of the game. Making friends, making enemies, and getting rid of your enemies without leaving any traces that cold track sudden deaths back to you. Kind of like reverse pickpocketing.


Lanassa ran a hand through her hair again, listening to the arguing going on between the two. Petty. They didn't seem capable of working together. So how would they expect this mission to succeed? It seemed this would turn out to be an "each on their own"  case, in which information gathered would hardly be shared among each other. Ah well.. at least it seemed decided she would head to the ball and interact with the nobles, not be used as some tiny worker, only good for crawling places the others couldn't reach. Lanassa had been in that position before, more times than she'd care to admit. That guy.... if he wasn't more careful with his words, he'd end up with multiple stab wounds before the mission had even started. "My, aren't we all getting along nicely here," she drly commented at the so-manieth snark being uttered from one person to another.

 

[The Silent Z]

And so the verbal joust had begun. Zathras sat quietly while making a nod gesture to the young elven woman who had joined them in greeting. The one and nearly sole focus for Zathras throughout this debate of who's plan would prove more effective and superior to the other, Zathras put together a agreed upon point of emphasis in the whole discussion..... It would be Zathras interacting and milking with e target herself. It would be Zathras taking the lead with Lanalva herself, chatting, playing nice, all in all mingling and if need be seducing the Dalish woman now court enchanter. The very idea brought every variable involved with him and the woman, such as if she was up to date on the times and news and not as distracted with her present position, Zathras could be immediately discovered as a threat, a suspicious character and person of interest. Leading to a potential and quick downfall of plans, reveal of plots, exposing of his purpose. Or the more subtle and long delayed downfall as she played the game and tried her hand at besting Zathras in a game of wit and counterplay, of finding out the about the other before the other finds out about them. But then again maybe she would be a out of touch Dalish keeper and non Fen'Harel agent...... maybe. 


Needless to say Zathras wasn't looking forward to this plan or either plan for the matter. It made sense sure, the elven mage could see that for himself, but the variables were not exactly hidden to him. "So, allow me some time here to understand. We are not going with the plan of Dez here, but your plan of playing along until we have what we need to decide our next course with the dear Lanalva. Either way I am the chosen for talking to the woman, a touching reunion? Charming..." He spoke rather recounting of the whole discussion and deciding of plans. Working on the game plan he would use and think over his actions for every variable before he was placed in the fire and prepared to cook in a pot of nobles, guards, royals and crows. He looked toward Theron and Dez respectively from one to another while he observed and thought over his preparations. Better to sort this all out ahead of time before having to play by ear and quick thinking due to no tactics and counters ahead of time. "I suppose the idea is well enough. A Dalish keeper is hard to come by now days without Fen'Harel agents being likely allegiances. I'll play along, just note the likely details that Leliana your spymaster put into any file on me. I am a exile of the Dalish, my clan could have spread it far enough to reach Lanalvas ears. Best hope she is out of touch and behind the times if this plan shall work nicely to start or end in some angles." Zathras spoke in pointing out the obvious and making sure it was known to them throughout the debate of plans. "Well, no matter, no matter, really.... I possess a angle not many have in this mission. Making use of it would be rather simple and obvious to use." 

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Royal Palace of Antiva
​

One hour before the Ball
​

 
​

Tensions were still high from the previous day, but somehow the group had managed to not kill each other in the time that passed. Granted that time was only a day, but it was still no small feat for them to have survived the day with tensions as high as they are. They had arrived at the Tavern that was just a few minutes from the Palace and Josephine's office. The owners were away, but allowed the group to stay there as they were friends to the Inquisition and should be arriving soon to greet the group. As of this moment, everyone should be in their formal clothing or in the process of getting it on. Hopefully all of them would wear what was picked out for them, and not destroy what was bought for them. Of course, the main suspect of this was Katriel, but Theron wouldn't be surprised if someone else did the same thing.


"Ugh. Formal wear is always so stuff and hot. Why can't parties be thrown in armor or normal clothing?" Theron said as he walked out of his room and into the main area of the Tavern. He was the only one that was out there so he just took a seat at the bar. 


"My friend, if everyone was in their armor and had their weapons, most of the people there might be dead. This way we can only kill each other with stares and threats!" Zevran said as he made his way down. He had dusted off his old leather Crow armor and was now wearing it. Hopefully it should allow him to get past any Crows without bloodshed, though knowing Zevran, he wouldn't get caught. Hopefully.


"I see. Some of the nobles we could probably lose to a good sword to the gut." Theron said, looking at the picture of some Pirate ship behind the counter. He put his elbows on the counter and put his head in the palms of his hands, letting out a heavy sigh, "Hopefully this all goes well. Lanalva isn't an agent of Fen'Heral. We gain the Merchant Princes as allies and we can all go our separate ways."


"Theron, you know all to well that that will not happen! It just ins't meant for adventures like these to go off so smoothly." Zevran said, adjusting one of his gauntlets.


"I wish what you just said was wrong and wasn't foreshadowing the events of tonight." Theron said, sighing once more as he waited for everyone else to get dressed and down stairs. They only had about an hour or so until the Ball began.


Theron's outfitThe Clothing not the characters gosh)

@Saru @marorda @Aster @NecroKnight @Archon @ARSENIC

 

[Aster]

Nezlazli Kutena Oride
​

 
​

Yesterday could be summed up as eventful. With the appearance of another elf, the party now consisted of a full team of seven: seven extremely individualistic and clashing people. Just thinking back on their meeting drew out a sigh from the qunari. From the gathering alone, Nezlazli could tell that teamwork was something the group lacked greatly. She could only hope that the mission at hand would not be put at risk because of it.


The plan at hand had been decided after some bickering, which Nezlazli had found rather amusing at first but quickly grew bored as it extended to a debate on leadership. While the qunari could understand where both sides were coming from, she could not help but find Dez's a little more than unnerving; not because she did not think it was a good plan (if anything, Nezlazli preferred snooping around instead of mingling with a bunch of nobles while Zevran dug for the truth. She did not travel all the way from Kirkwall just to doll up and kiss Antivan ass.) but rather cause the "character" he'd have her play struck a little too close to home. Had she not been trained by the Ben-Hassarath in controlling involuntary expressions, she would have flinched. Widow was not exactly the word anyone would associate Nezlazli as at first glance.


With Theron's plan chosen, the warrior could not help but find it odd. Why would Leliana hire 7 people just so they could gather intel at some Antivian party? If she wanted to do that, wouldn't hiring the Crows or spymasters from the Inquisition itself be a better plan? Nezlazli highly doubted that most of her group members were as skilled as real spies so why them? Why her? She was a mercenary for hire, a blood-borne fighter. Sure, she had a good head on her shoulders but it's nothing commendable. If Leliana or the Inquisition wanted to put their coin to good use, they would be sending her out to battle, not some fancy ball.


She sighed once more, pushing her doubts and confusion aside for another time as she adorned her neck with a intricate piece of jewelry. The necklace she wore was the only thing which sparkled under the Tavern's lights. A fitting, deep brown dress was worn, matching the dark grey hues in her skin. Seeing Theron, she greeted the man casually and took a seat at the bar as well. The long skirts of her dress brushed past her ankles, but the slit at the side rose a little past her knee when seated.


"Your strongest brew please," she said to the tapper. Alcohol was very much needed.

 

[NecroKnight]

[SIZE= 20px]Ser Arthur Umbra[/SIZE]
​

"I will admit to this honestly. I look ridiculous," spoke Arthur, emerging in his uniform. That looked like somebody had kidnapped Umbra from an Orleasian fashion circle. He was dressed in a suit fancy enough, that would fool some to think he was Orleasian. But also the more smarter kind, would understand that his combination of color and symbols - told of a man of wisdom, cunning and smelled of a Templar. Rather infact, he was wearing the Orleasian fashion, that was...or had been tailored for high-ranking members of the Chantry. It was still in effect at that, only there weren't many high-ranked members yet...or that was what the Antivans would think.


In his case, if they required to show some identification - Arthur Umbra was also carrying his mark for Knight-Divine. "And if any of the Antivans start asking me, how many Sisters I have done - I will seriously contemplate doing the traditional Orleasian reaction. In that case, slap them with my glove and challenge them to a sword-fight," he spoke, coughing and changing his voice to a more punctuated tone - that almost smelled like he was just from Orlais. Namely he walked over to where Kutena was and spoke in an Orlesian accent.


"My dear. You shouldn't consume such beverages before the Grand Ball. Like in Orlais - Antiva is a trap waiting to ensnare the innocent and naive. In such a case, I propose to keep our wit close to our heart. Since  the last time, such a fine collection of individuals met together - it culminated in many years of unnecessary violence. I would expect trouble, the moment we step in. Such a collection of people - are good for only two things in particular. Deniable assets and unexpected third-party intervention - so we might have other players in this Ball. In addition, my Lady - Vous allez gâcher ce beau visage," he spoke to Kutena - that last part being spoken in a heavier dialect from Vol Royeux.


@Aster


@King of Strong Style

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Theron looked over at Kutena as she walked over to the bar and ordered the strongest thing they had. The bar was rather quiet, the only people being there was the party of seven, an old man in the corner of the room and the bartender. He was a dwarven fellow, had ginger hair and the beard fit for a dwarven king. Theron just looked at the Dwarf as he scuttled around behind the bar and got Kutena her drink, it was a Whiskey from the Anderfels, "Try not to drink too much. We don't want you puking on some Merchant Prince. They may... I don't know, throw a glove at you. Or puke on you in retaliation...?" Theron just shrugged and went back to waiting for the other members.


Theron just looked at Arthur as he teased her in an Orlesian Accent and began to chuckle at what the old templar was saying. He cleared his throat and spoke in a Fereldan Accent with a little gravel, "No, no. You must drink more! A party is all about the alcohol! Oh and the mutton! You must eat and drink. Fatten up and act like we are all commoners. Don't let the threat of The Game dictate how much you drink! In fact, be as un-noble like as possible! Stick it to these Orlesian and Antivan nobles."


"That one voice is that of newest Lord Cousland. He is a rather obnoxious fellow that hates the Game and believes a Ball and Party should be about fun and games." Theron elaborated. If any here had met Lord Cousland they might mistake Theron for him.  By voice only of course.

 

[Archon]

Katriel Larethrya
​

 
​

Katriel stared disdainfully at the ridiculous dress before her, it's very fabric seemed to be inviting rage; once more she had to question how and why she was in this situation, it was tempting to just leave right this moment, nobody would know and she could go back to robbing the homes of greedy, unsuspecting merchants. Yet at the same time, an opportunity like this would never come around again. No matter how much risk there was, regardless of how much she despised her companions and hated their mission; the monetary gain was ultimately too persuasive. After this was all done, she could afford to just settle down somewhere, somewhere away from Antiva, away from civilisation. Yet for now? She was faced with an insurmountable task - that dress... Her face twisted in something mixed with disgust and apprehension merely gazing at the wretched shem design. It would be much easier to just burn the thing to ashes and turn up to the tavern in her standard gear, out of spite. The only downside would be the very high chance of her being replaced by a more... professional rogue; which was a pretty big downside, one she'd prefer to avoid; after all, she didn't travel half-way across Antiva just to fail the Inquisition-assigned mission on the first day.


With a deep breath, she resigned to her fate. Removing her armor had never been so difficult, with the knowledge that she was going to be prancing around in some shem's dress, more fit for a mindless spoilt brat than a proud elf rogue. Yet with little in the way of options, it was removed all the same; leaving Katriel half-naked whilst staring at the dress in complete resignation; a myriad of different flimsy excuses came to mind for not wearing it, but realistically, she knew she'd have to before she ever lay her eyes upon it. Without as much as a scoff, she simply shook her head before entering perhaps the poorest disguise in the history of infiltration, now dressed in the absolute worst outfit in Thedas which was heavily uncomfortable to-boot, the elf let out a small growl - the type of sound a child would make when failing to get their way - even then, she felt completely awful for the sake of herself. She hardly cared what the others thought about the outfit...


Although the subject of "others" did beg the question... What was her role to be in this grand Fen'Heral scheme? Surely they didn't expect her to have the etiquette's of nobility at peak condition. Truthfully, she lacked every part of noble social-tact possible, she knew Zathras was to play the role of... well, a Dalish Keeper. Everybody else in the group could have semi-believable cover stories for this to work convincingly, Katriel certainly did not. How is a nobly-dressed elf with a lack of etiquette passable in anyway? The mere thought that she might have to play bride to someone, or even a pathetic, grief-ridden widow was revolting.


After what had to be several minutes walking, and an eternity internally screaming, the elf rogue finally found herself at the tavern once more. Entering only illicited a quiet sigh from her. This was really happening... In truth she felt completely sick now she was here, the feeling was relatable to when she was being dragged into Fort Drakon. Not good. With her feeling mortified at the prospect of this... ball, and not being particularly talkative; it was no surprise she didn't so much as gaze at the three people already here, instead she just took her previous chair away from the others; with no hood to cover her face, Katriel felt increasingly vulnerable. So she merely sat in silence, putting on a very believable act of being powerful, confident and completely unfazed.


Even if she was terrified beyond belief.

 

[Aster]

Nezlazli Kutena Oride
​

Nezlazli wasn't exactly one to lose her cool over petty things but keeping her from alcohol was one move no one should ever play. Even though she understood her teammates' concern, it still peeved her nonetheless. "It'll take more than this to get me inebriated. Besides," she said, downing more than half the pint of whiskey in a gulp. She sighed, satisfied as the alcohol burned as it traveled down her throat. Had it been any stronger, she would have shuddered in delight. "I work better when I'm drunk." She grinned smugly, chin resting underneath her hand. "Though I would admit that I'm amused to hear that I seem 'innocent and naive'. I'm almost flattered, but best save the flirting for the party, no?" Nezlazli riposted in an Orlesian accent of her own. She chuckled to herself, silently wondering if she was getting too old for romance. Being a young widow and having to abandon her own son gave her good reason to be.


Looking over, she noticed another person had entered the tavern bar. While others may have been put off by Katriel's new appearance, Nezlazli was not. She had seen multiple female warriors dolled up for special events and had long grown used to the Cinderella effect. Cheeky grin in place, Nezlazli excused herself from the two men and went over to the lone elf, drink still in hand. While Katriel exuded a presence which screamed, "Don't come near me." being trained to read the smallest nuances made by the unconscious mind in the Ben-Hassarath, Nezlazli could tell that Katriel was not as confident as she appeared to be. That and also she had a good gut feeling about it. Whether it was a woman's intuition or a mother's sixth sense, something in Nezlazli couldn't leave the young elf alone no matter how snappy she tend to be.


"Nice dress. Did Josephine pick it out for you as well?" the qunari woman asked, standing an arm's length away from the rogue. She leaned her arms against the bar's counter, choosing to remain standing instead of taking her seat. That way, Nezlazli could always leave should the elf want to remain solus. She respected those who preferred to be alone but it varied case by case. "Look, I get that you're not here to play friends and what not but you look like you could use a drink," Nezlazli continued, pointing out signs of stiffness. She held up her half drunken pint of whiskey, offering the young elf a sip. Alcohol usually helped one to loosen up. The look on her face dared her to try. Inside, she wondered just how well Katriel would handle her drink.

 

[The Silent Z]

​

​

 
​

The idea of attending some ball dressed like a robe during peacock was rather much, the high collar was plenty and well enough but the inner wrap about his neck seeeme over done and tight. While the mask he could have some fun with though he had no plans of wearing it much during the ball, only just for fun and useful moments in time. As Zathras stood before the mirror and looked over himself in inspection and missing his robes. He had worn those robes ever since becoming first to the keeper and through his exile from his clan, finding warmth, comfort and familiarity with the robes. Atleast he had a walking stick to accompany this outfit, he would much prefer his staff but it was suggested that he kept to using a real walking stick that was of no more dangerous to others then a magic-less and bladeless stick. The small or perhaps average size stick for walking was decent enough and if needed maybe he could turn it into a blunt weapon and defensive staff? Maybe. 


Giving a sigh and shaking of his head a final final time before the mirro and his departure. Zathras shrugged and moved on, leaving his room and walking outside toward the tavern that was nearby. "I hope this engagement with lanalva goes well. Rather dreading the thought and ever looming risk of her knowing about my status among clans." He thought to himself and looked toward the door. A moment of pause and hesitation as he was about to be seen publicly and before many overdressed folk soon enough, put to the test with Lanalva under the guise of a Dalish keeper even sooner it seemed. The role was fitting and not too far off base, but the times and status made it a challenge. 


Entering the tavern casually and using his walking stick to get use to it, Zathras looked around and observed the others for a moment. "My stash of wine is rather lacking in these garbs. No place to keep. So I'll need a stiff and strong drink before I attend this ball." He commented while walking up toward the bar, looking to the dwarven bartender and his beard. "Your best and worthy in strength, barkeeper." 

 

[marorda]

Although Lanassa did not quite like dresses and much preferred her own, more simpler clothing, wearing a dress and prancing around at a Ball was nothing new to her. In fact, she rather enjoyed it from time to time. She was used to playing the Game. There had been several occasions where she would have preferred to simply refuse to wear a dress, and those times had left their marks on her body and soul. Just comply, shut your mouth and keep your head low. Act like a young lady is expected to behave, using only sharp looks and subtle insults as weapons. Lana assumed the Game here in Antiva might be different from that in Orlais, likely even more deadly when there were people on every corner of the street who would stick a dagger up your gut if you weren't paying attention. And then there was the Crows as well. Better not cross them. There were a few things Lana was sure she would not survive, even with her exceptional luck. Crossing the Crows was definitely one of those things.


Lana squirmed out of her own clothes, standing half-naked in her room and looking at the dress on the bed. Josephine surely had a good taste in clothing. The dress was pretty, genuinely pretty, at least in her opinion. Prancing around in this would surely make her seem like a young noblewoman. Perhaps the trophy-wife of some nobility, or the child of a far off noble. Those details would depend on how others would perceive her. Lana knew she could easily pretend either of them, both even. But it was important she'd see how the people saw her before she'd begin spinning her story, just to be sure she would tell the same thing to everyone. She already wondered how close the people would let her come to their secrets. Because truly, who would expect that innocent looking small thing to be up to anything? She was simply a young woman/child who knew "bits" of the Game, someone who was practicing to "properly play the Game when she'd become an adult". Oh, if only they knew... From what she had gathered from her supposed allies, she would likely play the role of a child, since that's how they saw her the moment she stepped into the office. And now.... now she would head to the tavern where they would all meet.


The others already seemed to be there. Again. She was the last to get there again. Ah well... Couldn't be helped, really. The dress made moving in the way she was used to a little difficult, so for now she shuffled around, seeming much like a shy noble child who wound up in the wrong place. Soon enough she would be used to moving around in this thing. Still, no running and sneaking and all those usual movements. No, she would tread gracefully like a noble lady should. The role was easy enough for her, possibly to the surprise of others. "So here we are again,"  she mumbled, more to herself than her companions. "Time to play the Game."

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Theron looked over at Zathras as he entered the tavern and made his way over to the rest of them. He looked the old elf up and down before raising an eyebrow, "Well, Well. You are looking rather dapper this evening. Orlesian Mask... Oddly suits you." Theron just watched as everyone else was drinking, dreading the fact that they had to go to a bar and mingle around with nobles and look out for a terrorist plot, "I am sure you can get drunk of champagne... I think..." Theron just shrugged, he wasn't much of a champagne person. He preferred whiskey and the much stronger sort of drinks.


The Barkeep nodded at Zathras and scoffed to himself. Seeing so many odd people, especially nicely dressed, odd people was weird to him. He poured the same whiskey as he did for Kutena into a large mug and handed it to Zathras. He offered a nod and went back to cleaning glasses behind the bar.


"Ah. Good to see you Lanassa. I believe we are only waiting on one last person. Where is that man?" Theron said as he let out a heavy sigh, the group was all ready, well almost ready. All that was missing was Dez, the smartass of a mage from Tevinter. Once he was present, the group could proceed to the Palace, have fun, or try to anyway. Oh and get the information from Lanalva and try not to get killed along the way... Knowing himself, and the group assembled, Theron couldn't help but think of how this mission would fail and they would all die. Well, possibly die. Maybe they would get tortured first.


@ARSENIC (please reply soonish so I can move the RP along. Apologies.)

 

[NecroKnight]

[SIZE= 20px]Ser Arthur Umbra[/SIZE]
​

 
​

"My lady. I must ask, of you a favor, if you'd be willing to hear me out," asked Arthur from Kutena, as Arthur arrived to talk with Kutena. While she discussed stuff with the elven Katriel. "It said, that whom one arrives with - tells alot of what the person wishes to discuss."


"It's stated, atleast in Orlais. When a man arrives with another man, or a woman with another woman - it means that they expect to talk business in general. When a man and a woman, usually as a couple arrive - it's often translated, as to them being here to enjoy a good time. When one arrives with an elf - it often means they expect trouble or to stir trouble," he explained calmly to her. "Don't ask why it is so. I would assume it being due to many servants...and spies having been elven at that, in Orlais. No offense to you, Miss Larethrya."


"However - if one would arrive, with a fine woman such as yourself - a qunari. Well, it just might cause enough mass confusion amongst the nobility. Which might be one thing, we're likely hired to do currently," spoke Arthur. "So what do you say, mademoiselle? Care to be my partner?"


@Aster


@King of Strong Style (I don't think ARSENIC be coming. Continue?)

 

[The Silent Z]

"The mask might be rather enjoyable to play with and have some fun. But thanks and the same to you" Zathras spoke with a brief smile and worked on getting used to the attire. The idea of not wearing his robes for a extended period of time would take some getting used to and this attire wasn't a familiar change of clothing. But he would adjust and play a long or the sake of the quest, just hoped the neck didn't persist with him all night. "Champagne huh? Must be strong if a person can get drunk off it. Unless you think you can out drink me and offering a challenge?" Zathras perked a grin and looked to the barkeep as he looked the elf up and down while pouring whiskey into a large mug. "Thanks!" Zathras spoke and took the mug not taking long to sample the whiskey with a fair size drink. 


Upon tasting the whiskey and finding it rather decent he offered a nod in turn to the barkeep and turned about to see the room. "So were down a fellow mage for this evening?" Zathras pondered quietly looking about the room and noticing everyone and greeting them with raised mug and nod. "Good to see we have most of the team present and accounted for so far." He noted to Theron before looking to Lanassa and catching some of her comment. "Tell me Lanassa... your an elf with experience in these matters of games and such. What should I expect from our hosts and their company? Much as I would presume already or any surprises to account for?" Zathras asked trying to improve his knowledge and what he can expect from the game of human politics here, he had some ideas sure but wasn't foolish enough to assume he was correct in all of it or all knowing. 

 

[Archon]

Katriel Larethrya


Whilst Katriel was less than pleased to dwell in self-pity over her current situation, the misery she was devoured by wasn't in need of distraction, so whilst most would see the opportunity for conversation as a blessing given the dire circumstance of everyone's new mission; Nezlazli's approach did nothing to calm her nerves, if anything the elf only grew more anxious about her new appearance, and the Qunari's proximity to it. Despite all the good intention her approach may have bore, Katriel's already dissuading glare multiplied tenfold when the other woman spoke; an action which was accompanied by a scoff, in an attempt to get the point across that she wasn't looking for company, nor sympathy. To Katriel, the dress was nothing short of abysmal, though the real cause of her current anxiety was only in-part due to appearance, the rest was apprehension towards her role in the mission. Was she to play the lowly elf servant? 


The very thought of it left a sickening pit in her stomach.


However, Katriel's armoured-exterior wasn't so easily crumbled, but she wasn't going to turn down a drink when offered. Nezlazli was to-the-point, she could at least respect that. Without so much as a single change in her facial expression, Katriel took the remainder of the offered drink and took a spectacularly large swig. She wasn't much of a drinker, so the battle against the desire to cough was one of the harder fights she'd fought - leaving her slightly red-faced - though even so, she tried to remain expressionless - an endeavour that proved ultimately futile as she cleared her throat rather heavily. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the human Templar arrived before the Qunari was offered a chance to gloat. 


Unfortunately for Katriel, she was remarkably less tolerant of Ser Arthur as opposed to Nezlazli. She had no large judgement on the workings of the Qunari mind, or their race. Humans however, she knew very well, she'd suffered greatly at the hands of the shemlen which is why the new proximity to the former Mage-Hunter left a slight growth of anger in her system. Which was in no small part aided by his excruciatingly long attempt at being fancy, she much preferred Nezlazli's simplistic "to-the-point" approach as opposed to the shemlin's way. Ironically enough the contents of Arthur's speech didn't faze Katriel nearly as much as the manner of his speaking. What he said was simply true, the elf had no falsehoods about her race - she knew precisely what most elves were - she held no love for any knife-eared servant in the employ of some pompous noble.


Alas, the topic of infiltration was of course moulded to an embarrassing attempt at flirtatious which she very much wanted absolutely no part in. She didn't want a part in any of this, but she did need it. Thoughts of that paycheck were all she had in motivational terms. Unfortunately, that belief wasn't offering nearly enough comfort to override her current discomfort when so close to the Qunari and shemlin; she wanted them to leave, now. Of course she refused to speak to either of them, nor back down and move away, leaving her in a rather unpleasant predicament.


Lets just get this over with, when do we go to the accursed Palace...


@Aster @NecroKnight

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

The Royal Palace of Antiva.
​

"Yep, appears that most of the team is here. Minus that mage. Probably for the best in hindsight. Sure he could have been useful, but he could've screwed everything up too and gotten us all killed." Theron said rather lazily as he rested his chin in the palms of his hands. He looked around the tavern, seeing three of them on the other side. Theron couldn't help but smirk at Arthur's attempts of buttering up Kutena, "It appears our old Templar is trying to court the Qunari Warrior. Intriguing." He glanced back at the two, clearing his throat, "Please, no PDA within this tavern. That is assuming you two become some sort of item." Theron chuckled dryly to himself before looking over at Zathras again.


Theron just listened to Zathras ask Lanassa about what they should expect. He was pretty much asking how to make sure he wouldn't get himself killed, or anyone killed for that fact. He grinned and looked around the room. It seemed that everything was in order. The Party should be starting soon and they should make their way to the palace. Though the palace was only a few minute walk from the tavern.


DING. DING. DING. DING. DING. DING. DING


The bell at the Grand Cathedral in the City began going off; Seven times, indicating that it was Seven o'clock. The party was about to begin as well. Theron turned around, "And so it begins! Everyone-"


"Get the hell out of here." The Dwarf Barkeep said, "Sodding Humans and Elves and Qunari. Damn Surfacers... Why did I decide to move here to help Va-" The Dwarf mumbled quietly to himself before stopping, giving the party a mean stare.


Five minutes later...


The Group arrived at the gates of the Palace. Theron gave the guards their invitations and were allowed into the Palace. Elven Servants Scuttled around the gardens, serving the nobles fine wine and cheese. The Antivans didn't wear masks like their counterparts to the south, so it was easy to identify people by what they actually looked like. Theron stopped and turned to the group, clearing his throat, "Uhhhh. Where to start... Zathras, you know your duty. Try to get anything out of Lanalva. Get her drunk if you have to. Bed the damn woman if it gets to that. Kutena, you make contact with the Barozzi Twins. They adore Qunari and would do anything for a female of the Qunari." He paused to look at the others, "Arthur, I assume you know how to play the game. To some degree at least. Try not to bed the Queen. Lanassa, you do what bards do... Minus the killing. Katriel... guard the punch bowl." Theron chuckled at his own joke before giving her a real job, "Don't cause anything. Hell, steal from the nobles if you want. Just don't cause a seen."


"Good. You made it." Josephine said, clearing her throat, "Good news is that the game in Antiva is less deadly than that in Orlais. Bad news is that is still the Game. Zevran is already making his way to Lanalva's office. Theron, the Merchant Princes and King have agreed to see you. They are rather excited to finally meet a real operative from the Inquisition." She mumbled to herself before leading the party through the garden and into the actual Palace.


@marorda @Aster @NecroKnight @Archon @Saru

 

[Aster]

Nezlazli Kutena Oride
​

Some people opened up differently from others and having experience in the field, Nezlazli could at least tell that Katriel was doing just that. Well, not exactly, but at least she considered opening the knocking door just enough for her to slip a foot in. She smiled when the elf took her drink, mildly impressed with how the younger babe managed to handle it. The same smile turned polite than bona fide when Arthur made his appearance. She shifted, turning to face him, still standing.


"I'm appearing as a widow to a Ferelden noble who had a flair for the exotic," Nezlazli replied, after giving the briefest moment to consider Arthur's words. She quoted Dez's plan, imitating his accent as well as his voice. "As flattered as I am to be invited, appearing with you will ruin my cover and make me seem like a flimsy woman. Although, I guess as a Qunari, we don't really consider the aspect of 'romance' as much as you humans do, but I doubt the nobles care enough to step out of their bubbles of ignorance to know that," she answered, with an awfully bright and fake smile.


A short but sharp glare was thrown in Theron's way and she shook her head, as though disappointed that the party leader was shallow enough to make such comments. Sure, relationships were important for teamwork in battle; but that only mattered because of battle. Outside the fight and the possible outcome of such took none of her interest. She excused herself from the duo to prevent any more meaningless implications and sat herself besides the androgynous elf, Lanassa.


With the party finally kicking off, Kutena was more than glad for some activity. With a wave of her hand, she left the group, mingling in with the crowd with ease. It didn't take her long to find the Barozzi Twins - or at least, for them to find her. She approached their company with a drink in hand, a smile and a malicious twinkle in her eye. The party had finally begun.

 

[Archon]

Katriel Larethrya


Katriel never thought there'd be a day when she was glad to see a dwarf. Yet their friendly Carriage Driver was nothing short of a complete blessing, the situation between the shem and Qunari was only getting more awkward following her hasty rejection of his lousy romantic blundering, though the high-ringing bells of the Grand Cathedral were apparently a signal that the Ball had begun. Katriel saw them more as "Warning Bells". With little interest in mingling a thousand thoughts raced through the elf's head on potential counters to whatever her orders were. Fin'Dal knew she'd be nothing more than a corpse long before she played as a pitiful servant. Alas the carriage journey - as squashed as it was - didn't last more than a few minutes, even a cynical, all-hating elf like Katriel could appreciate how majestic the Palace looked. She'd never been to Orlais, but she imagined this was what it was like; it was ironic how much she hated that she loved shemlin Palaces.


Theron's orders were probably the most pleasant surprise the evening had to offer, having free reign was probably the only thing she would have accepted anyway... Although the only thing related to "Punch" she'd be doing this evening was knocking Theron's teeth out if his jokes continued to be worse than a Werewolf curse. The elf pondered on the rest of their team, they all seemed to fit in well; which is why Katriel deciding fitting in was entirely out of the equation. She was a thief, better to do what thieves do best. 


Slinking off into the lavish, oversized, prettily jewelled doors Katriel tried to force her self to smile, hoping she looked like she belonged their. Judging by some of the horrified to outright disgusted looks she was probably failing. The again, that could just be a common reaction to seeing an elf wearing fineries in a ball, these people didn't dare conceive that elves were anything but cattle to be herded like sheep. Luckily however, the vast majority of the ball's inhabitants were far too engrossed in each other to notice a little elf slinking around eyeing up pickpocket opportunities, maybe she'd pickpocket Theron and Lanassa, just because she could... Hopefully.


opportunities, maybe she'd pickpocket Theron and Lanassa, just because she could... Hopefully.

 

[The Silent Z]

Zathras Arlen 
​

"The mage of personality.... yes, perhaps being outside of his grasp for the night would prove best. Never know what side the pendulum will fall," Zathras responded with trailing off as Theron moved on toward the flirtations and aims of one Templar and a Qunari recipient. The sight was rather amusing it wasn't often Zathras came across a Qunari and especially a woman among the large race, never would he thought it possible to witness one being courted with a dance proposal and ball accompany offer. Quite the scene to witness for the elven mage. 


But such things wouldn't last long they never do... before he knew it a bell sung through town and alerted all of the balls presence of time. The moment Zathras wasn't looking forward to would begin rather soon, flirting with a elven woman wasn't a terrible task to see done, getting her drunk or bedding her wasn't terrible either, but a human ball and political intrigue........ He was a Dalish mage from outside Antiva and his experience with politics or atleast human variety was quite limited. The inter workings of his people and the relationships between clans, the interaction of fellow elves and their lore were all quite up his alley. But dressing up in a neck hugging garb with no staff allowance to court a fellow Dalish keeper or keepers first who may or may not know of his exile from their people or recall him was another. If she merely recalled him then no problem other then he was a strongly opinionated and progressive thinking elf, but that wasn't so bad, actually he thought it rather refreshing if he did say so himself. 


When Theron spoke of everyone's task and started with him, Zathras nodded with a tap of his cane. "Right, lanalva..... I'll see what my fellow Dalish has in mind and where it leads...." Zathras spoke sounding up for the challenge while trailing off again and turning toward the stairs to see if she was there. Next he looked around and walked away beginning his search for the woman.

 

[The Silent Z]

​

​

 
​

The dwarf was born in Orzammar to carta and house Cadash member Helga Cadash and merchant caste dwarf Faren. Despite his fathers caste however the young man never found fair treatment as his mothers surface dwarf status and long exiled house of Cadash brought little then better treatment to a castless duster, which led to his hatred of the caste system and narrow minded nobles who's traditions bind the dwarves to a solitary and limited life, forever limiting the dwarven army and causes more in fighting then the race can afford. Everyday the enemies of Orzammar grow and the sister of Orzammar in Karl Sharok was hardly in any shape to do much of anything as poor off as Edric heard them to be. He sought change, he found a love in a chance and unexpected encounter with the middle child and only daughter of the late King Endrin, though it was only love for her ideals and treatment of the lesser castes that drew him towards her and led him to despise king Bhelen more and more. Certainly the man brought change but along with it many enemies...... it wasn't long before or after the should have been commander and heir to the late king Aeducan was exiled to the deep roads that Edric found himself in the same boat but for a different crime. 


During the dwarfs exile into the deep armed with little more then a dagger and common clothes to defend himself from darkspawn. He was wanted dead by the nobles for speaking out and threatening to expose crimes, though his proof was a bluff and little more then conspiracy theory and guess work based off limited facts of the situation, but it was enough to draw the ire of the comfy and rich dwarves who squabble over everything and gossip about anything. How Edric hated nobles.... but Edric was no slouch with a blade, he was quick and knew how to survive and with some luck he survived long enough to align himself with the legion where he furthered his training and became a scout of the legion where his skill set expanded with the new training. Edric used the opportunity to keep surviving for as long as he could and maybe find the woman who could change his homeland, his kingdom and perhaps change his own fortune. 


The venture proved unsuccessful but he did gain new allies and training of a legionnaire scout without officially joining his brothers and sisters in arms. Instead he went to the surface despite his fear of falling into that sky up there, eventually finding his mother and rejoining or rather joining his house of Cadash and ultimately the carta as well becoming a smuggler and lead scout for any deep roads excursions due to his experience, training and knack for surviving the odds. 


But this was all in the past and today fortune and opportunity drew him toward Antiva and some human ball where the rich parade there wealth and act fake as any facade could be, otherwise a great headache and painful experience...... "Better be worth it.... ugh" Edric sighed and walked about the room taking note of some new arrivals, a pair of humans, three elves and one large woman who was clearly a Qunari..... odd Edric never seen a Qunari woman before only the bull headed and men he dealt with on occasion usually mercenaries and tal something or other group. Edric didn't pay much attention to them and what they were called or atleast not enough to remember there tongue and all those words they speak or call themselves, he also didn't mesh well with Qunari but those were just rivals to his people and the carta so interacting was usually done in less then diplomatic ways. Maybe this woman was different? Couldn't judge all by some horns of the past less he become no better then his foolish nobles back in Orzammar, well not all were bad but enough of them. 


Edric hadnt bothered to change out of his dwarven leathers and coat his bow and quiver of arrows remained with him. He had no need to get complicated, he wouldn't be there long enough to get complicated and story full of chapters and backgrounds..... just a messenger for some noble he got off the list of names, claimed he wouldn't be long and would get out of the noble sods way soon enough..... nothing special but it worked and st was that mattered, he only needed the way in and he hoped his Intel was correct or he was killing that salroka when he got back to the carta, they had been friends for some time but Edrics patience was growing thin for the amount of bad information and need of Edric improvising his way out a countless number of times, the guys Intel had brought on him. 


But anyway the group seemed different, were they rivaling the carta? If they were after the same thing as Edric then it meant trouble and a leak, loose ends that needed tying and shutting up when this was over. Or maybe something else..... but what? He would need to keep a eye on those long legged folk and keep sharp. 


@Archon @Aster @marorda @King of Strong Style @NecroKnight

 

[marorda]

Prior to heading out to the party, Lanassa had tried to explain the things Zathras could expect. Lots of fake compliments, subtle scorn, and exchanges of words with nobles among themselves that could easily lead to vendettas that would last for a couple of generations. It was a good thing the Antivan Game was less deadly than the Orlesian Game with which she was more familiar herself. Heck.... if it were the Orlesian Game, the night wouldn't be a proper ball without at least one unexplainable death, noblemen mysteriously disappearing upstairs for some hours. You know, nothing unusual. It was quite likely they'd have to play The Game more often if they would all keep working for the Inquisition, something Lanassa just might sign herself up for.
 The only question that remained for her was: what would she pretend to be? Trophy wife of distant noble's daughter? She still had a bit of time to think.


----


And so it began, with the ringing of the bells. A grin appeared on Lanassa's face. It was high time to... have some fun. Her task was simple enough: "do what bards do". Minus the killing. Geez... That was both really dull, and really understandable. As a bard, with the first bodies dropping dead to the floor, she'd be the main suspect. And so would her companions be. still.. killing was a part of the game, wasn't it? Ah well... save the killing for later then, for when there would be a proper, obvious reason to kill and it wouldn't wind her up in prison. Again. Emphasis on again. Whelp. Time to mingle. She skidded into the crowd with an almost childish sort of excitement. A kid she would be then, easy enough to pull of. Plus... she was excited to play The Game in all its glory again. She sat herself down at one of the benches, glancing around the nobles passing her by, looking down upon her with some sort of curiousity. Obviously, she was an elf, and they knew elves only as servants. Yet quite obviously the elves in this interesting little company were far from servants. The young elf considered herself lucky she had the experience with the game that she had, almost effortlessly upholding the facade of being a noble child with eyes full of wonder regarding this strange and distant land. Lanassa sat elegantly, politely nodding at the men and women passing by, a small smile on her face. Her eyes scanned the crowd carefully, searching for her first "target". Any singled out noble would do for her to shyly shuffle up to and initiate smalltalk of some sort.


She spotted several, a taller Orlesian man with what she presumed to be his wife, and a little further to the side... perfect. An Antivan noble nervously fidgetting with his clothes, barely capable of holding his wine glass. "I wonder what makes him so nervous. Does he expect something or what?" she mumbled to herself and she gracefully stood up and made her way over to him. Smalltalk, subtle questioning, careful people reading... that should tell her whether this man was even supposed to be here, expecting trouble, just a nervous wreck, or any kind of combination of the aforementioned things.

 

[Iskandar]

Theron Lawson
​

Antivan Royal Palace
​

 
​

Theron offered a nod at the group as they all went their separate ways, well, once they made it into the actual palace, and out of the garden. It was quite the site, it might even rival Halamshiral in terms of grandeur and beauty. He let out a sigh, straightened his posture and followed Josephine to the end of the Ballroom, where the King of Antiva, his Family, Lanalva and the Merchant Princes where all at. King Nenicio the Third was the current ruler of Antiva, of course he was just a puppet for the Merchant Princes. He was a short man, had short and well groomed brown hair and twisted mustache. He looked very similar to a Spanish Conquistador. His family included his Brother, Wife and only child, most of the Family was killed decades ago when someone in the Family got to greedy. That time Zevran fell into the Canal. Only eight of the twelve Merchant Princes were attending the ball, two were away in Orlais, one was oddly off in Fereldan, apparently he enjoyed King Alistar and his company, the last one was sick and couldn't make it. All of them looked pampered beyond believe, and were bankers or merchants or information brokers. They all had weird names as well, some Theron couldn't even pronounce. 


"Your Grace." Theron said, bowing while plastering a fake smile onto his face.


"Ahhh. Theron! Josephine informed me that you would be coming. Good, good. She is the best diplomat I have ever met. So, what brings the Inquisition this far north?" King Nenicio asked, he had a loud voice, one that could fill up the noisy ballroom, if need be of course.


"Well, I am here on diplomatic reasons. The Inquisition is expanding, as a part of the Chantry, and we would like Antiva to help be a financial backer..." Theron said, of course that was just the cover up for Theron being there. It was true that the Inquisition would like Antiva to become a formal Ally, finding Lanalva was their main mission... for now. 


The Barozzi twins, somehow managed to sniff out where Kutena was once she entered the Ball Room and began to pester her with questions and other nonsense. The two looked identical, they both had black hair that was long and curly, as well as twisted mustaches, brown eyes and a few moles on their face's. They were powerful loan sharks in Antiva, the Merchant Princes even owed the Twins money from time to time. They had a thing for the exotic, and the more flair it had, the better. Antone, the smarter of the two began to speak, "Wow! A real life Qunari Woman! Right in front of us Giano! Can you believe it?" The other just shook his head and continued to stare at Kutena, he was a mute and couldn't speak, he spoke through hand motions and expressions, "Where are you from? What is it like being a Qunari Female? Have you been to Por Vollen or Seheron?" Antone questioned, his voice giddy with excitement.


Meanwhile, Lanalva was at the end of the Ballroom with King Nenicio and the rest of the super important people. She had the look of an Ice Queen, someone that could freeze you with just her glare. She wore a splendid blue and grey dress, it looked somewhat Orelsian in the terms of it being very puffy and extravagant. Her facial features were somewhat normal for an Elf, of course she had pointy ears too. She seemed to be standing alone, near the King and Theron, and everytime someone approached her, she sent them away. It looked like Zathras had his work cut out for him.


Zevran on the other hand... was in a bit of a bind. He got sidetracked by a lovely Servant Girl and attempted to smooth talk his way into her pants, sadly a Guard spotted the two and chased Zevran off. He was rather sad at the fact that he could not be in the sight of such a beautiful servant, but it did allow him to get back on track with his mission. Zevran was just now arriving at Lanalva's office.


@NecroKnight @Aster @Archon @marorda @Saru


(Archon, you can control whatever NPCs Katriel will be interacting with or stealing from.)


(Same with you, Marorda.)


(Saru and Aster, I will be controlling Lanalva and The Barozzi Twins.)


(Necro... You can control whatever NPCs you want as well, unless you

 

[NecroKnight]

[SIZE= 20px]Ser Arthur Umbra[/SIZE]
​

 
​

Arthur was playing his usual card at that - namely playing the role of the Orleasian; in that sentence, being pompous, high-born and an usual know-it-all dick. It helped that, in previous years, when he had served the Chantry - he had picked up enough to make do. One might expect the Chantry military arm to be without politics, but there were a ton of nobles back in Orlais - whom were eager to get their great-nephew or grand-grandson as some high-ranking Templar leader, so they could add some new fancy title to their name.


It helped, that his designation here had been - His Divine Guardship, Knight-Divine Arthur Umbra of Orlais - the Inquisition, had someway re-hired him into his position. And in any case, even the Crows would find it hard to tell the difference, if he was Knight-Divine or not. Since he had the experience, skill and elegance to have been one before - and there was nothing in Chantry Law that forbid them from reinstating their old soldier. Which made it both funny and serious - he had to play the part of an Orleasian, aka being a dick. On the plus side, he was essentially immune to any backlash - since one expected such an act from an Orleasian and secondly, nobody wanted to be on the receiving end of an Exalted March.


"Vous avez déshonoré mon pays," he stated, to some unknown merchant, before giving him a slap with his glove. The third one this night at that - it was funny, since in Orlais - one had to show off and then later, bring it to the table. In Antiva, one had to option of bringing it to the table immediately, in such an event - only problem being, NOBODY wanted to be 'that guy' who killed a Knight-Divine over some stupid reason - such as what dress the Chantry Mother wore in Antiva.


It helped to lessen the mood, namely since he had gotten all the high-class, tit-sucking and rich girl crowded around him. All eager and talking around him, wanting to know what the Chantry had now planned, ever since the election of a more militant Divine. "I can tell no more or less - as such information can be used against her, and Divine Victoria has her hands full working on rebuilding the Chantry after the Great War," he spoke, calmly drinking his wine in an Orleasian fashion, that made the others look like Free March' commoners. He was in essence, the King of the Ball - or namely most eyes focused on him, as such he couldn't do anything much but chat.


"Vous avez déshonoré mon pays," he spoke again, this time to some rich silk merchant, whom said that the Divine' outfit was Tevinter spidersilk. As such the Game, in its most retard way was brought to Antiva. Before he slapped the silk merchant with his glove again. "I will have you know, the Divine fears the finest Orleasian linen and crafted by the Jean dur Bapbis himself."

 

[The Silent Z]

Zathras Arlen 
​

 
​

The former elven apprentice and keepers first had yet to decide on how he would approach his fellow keeper. The woman stood not far from human royalty mans had a certain air about her that told him this wasn't going to be easy...... not that he expected otherwise. But one could hope couldn't they? Theron and the king were not far but her she was alone, every attempt of social grace proved a failure as they were quickly turned away. Maybe that meant she was in no mood for games? Could it be that Zathras may just have some luck yet during this ball? He hoped so. But the elven mage wouldn't count on it nor would he allow a underestimation of Lanalva blind him from his course and lead him into trouble. With a few prepared options coursing through his mind for quick playthrough and a final decision, Zathras approached with walking stick and all in a casual but stick induced style of approach taking time to adjust from the normal height he was more commonly use to walking with having his staff and it looking far better in his opinion then a much shorter version and less magically capable one at that. But it would do and suffice, nothing great was wrong with the walking stick outisde of personal preference and used to wielding. 


"Aneth Ara, Lanalva..... Ir Serannas Sahlin-"  Zathras opened in the tongue of their people of the Elvhen. Which could be translated into a social and friendly greeting among the Dalish 'My safe place' it wasn't the perfect setting for such a translation but it was a common greeting among the Dalish. While further translation pointed toward 'I  Am appreciative in this moment.'  "Tu Ena, Tu dirth In Falon" Zathras spoke in continued Dalish tongue. Translation; ' To Appear, To speak with friend'  Zathras did indeed openly speak his people's lanaguge amongst the shemlem however he would not continue much further in the elvhen tongue not yet anyway unless needed. "It's been a long time Lanalva.... I see your well in standing amongst the shemlen royalty. Quite the position, I congratulate you on the achievement. Perhaps our people should see how the quick have accepted our own." Zathras spoke merely exchanging pleasantries for the moment and gauging the woman's temperament and responses toward him before trying anything. 


@King of Strong Style

 

[Archon]

Katriel Larethrya
​

So here they were, in the Grand Antivan Ball! Katriel was planning to enjoy her stay, and by, 'enjoy her stay' she meant, 'steal something pretty'. or at least something of value, but preferably something pretty. She wasn't much for jewellery, in-fact she hated it... In the presence of others... It was like her deepest, darkest secret, she adored rings, necklaces and all those sparkling metallic wonders. But since she literally hated everything else about the shemlen it paid to play the role of hating everything, loving nothing. It was a little hypocritical, perhaps. That so many nobles adorned themselves with jewellery, and whilst Katriel would never look like one of them, she'd be verily happy to prance around with an abundance of jewellery - all hidden of course - beneath her thick, concealing thief-ware. Unfortunately she didn't have the luxury of thief-ware or the element of surprise, she was going to have to rely on her instincts and natural 'elegance' to succeed in this place.


Trying her hardest to act natural - and probably failing - the elf strolled across the room to where two guards were stationed; the duo guarding the stairs to what she assumed was either the kitchens or the bedrooms, Either would suffice for what she had intended, moving casually away from the main floor Katriel took flight up the stairs to the second floor, ignoring the swelling pit of disgust in her stomach, a result of all the prying shemlen eyes; studying her like some farm animal to be sold. They likely thought she was a servant to someone very important, well-dressed servants usually were... mostly elves, too. Luckily for her, the second floor is also were the gardens were. Brilliant targets for pickpocketing, usually inhabited by pathetic lovestruck puppies, usually so enthralled at giving each other googly eyes that they don't notice their most prized possessions and all their gold get swept away by the hands of an elf. If Katriel had hobbies, pickpocketing was one of them.


With well-practiced swiftness, she walked calmly through the maze of bushes, the extravagant fountain offering excellent cover - the splashing of water was always more favourable to a thief, than a noble - her first mark lay ahead, a young couple of innocent little lambs. Two spoilt brats who've never know anything of hardship, they wouldn't miss the gold. As she approached, the pair were overlooking the view of the city.


"Oh Raynold, isn't it wonderful?"


"That it is my dear, such a magnificent view!"


Timing was everything, luckily for Katriel; they made it easy. What kind of idiot attaches a pouch to the backmost side of their belt? The noble kind, that's what. With a devious smirk the elf peaked into the satchel, pleased to see... a wedding ring? "How sweet," she muttered to herself; the mischievous grin growing across her face, she slipped it onto her finger and gazed up at the moonlight. "I do." She whispered to herself mockingly, she was practically glowing now, the only person who could ever make her laugh was evidently herself. Now many people had a sense of humor that connected amusement to robbing a young couple of their wedding ring, which was too bad. More laughs for her. And the elf did afford herself a victorious chuckle which ended more like a giggle, before slipping the ring into her own satchel, and letting the evidence drift helplessly down the side of the balcony.


Why do I need a heart of gold, when I have had a bag of gold?


Hm, that sticks. It can be my motto.