Fantasy Tales of Raeligard

[AnonyMouse]

QUEST 0: WELCOME TO TYLSENCongratulations, adventurer! Though you come from far and wide, all roads converge upon the beautiful city of Tylsen... umm, metaphorically, that is. Upon completion of your recruitment test, the Kriegslowen who inducted you into this illustrious guild sent a letter of introduction to the Tylsen guild hall, where many a future hero got their start. You have been instructed to present yourselves there for an official welcoming ceremony, where you will receive your crest and arcanizer, marking you as a bonafide Kriegslowen. This is where your journey truly begins, adventurer! What will you find there? Who will you meet? Are you ready?

Location: Tylsen
Time: 10:00AM

Thin clouds drifted lazily across the pale blue Verattian sky. A midsummer sun shone through Tylsen’s eclectic assortment of shingled rooftops and woodwork, casting a warm glow on the well-worn cobblestone streets between them. A city of commerce and trade, Tylsen both existed at and was defined by its crossroads, where coin and culture, old and new, intermingled. It was a city known by many, but home to relatively few.

An ancient spire stood at its heart, stretching toward the heavens. Some said it was a wizard’s tower eons ago. Some say it was the steeple of a great temple, erected to honor gods long forgotten. It stood as a landmark for travelers from far and wide, like a landlocked lighthouse surrounded by a sea of rolling plains and gentle hills. These days, its weathered stones supported a more recent addition: a massive clock face, a symbol of Raeligard’s transition into a new age. Ten chimes of its bells announced the hour.

“Right on time,” Vivienne remarked as she shut the door to her humble residence, a small farm on the outskirts of Tylsen, close enough to walk into town, but far from the pressing crowds and suffocating pressure of civilization. From here, the clocktower’s hourly proclamations were little more than a distant melody, barely audible over the chirping of birds and the sounds of her cows and goats eagerly munching grass.

Viv’s sanctuary was a place of quiet meditation and study. Many an adventurer had gotten their start here. Their bolts and arrows had pierced her targets. Their boots had trampled her sparring circle. Their blows had rocked her wooden dummies. And, for those who didn’t make it, their flowers rest eternally in the shade of a large oak tree, as a reminder.

There were a lot of flowers.

As she trotted toward the city, Vivienne waved to the 10 o’clock landferry headed in the opposite direction, right on schedule. Its driver briefly removed his hat and respectfully nodded to the passing centaur as he guided his horseless carriage away from Tylsen, probably bound for the capital. Its large steel wheels ground the hard-packed earth, slowly building speed as it lumbered along, rattling and clanking as its mechanical innards converted magic into motion by means she couldn’t even begin to fathom. While it wasn’t the most comfortable ride, there was no doubting this was the future of transportation and would only get better with time.

As expected, Tylsen’s streets were a hub of activity. Many voices, sounds, and smells intermingled. As Viv strolled past the landferry station and stables and down main street into the city proper, the rhythmic clopping of her hooves was drowned out by the sounds of people haggling over prices, merchants harking their wares, and children laughing and playing as they darted amongst the booths. The scent of fresh bread wafted from open doors and windows, luring customers inside. The steady clang of a blacksmith’s hammer could faintly be heard. A passing cart carrying a mountain of crates to the one of the many warehouses and shipping companies made the ground tremble beneath its mass.

At last, Vivienne arrived at the guild hall, a place easily overlooked by those who did not know its significance. A three-story building of sooty redwood and ashen stonework, perched on a corner at the town square, where Tylsen’s iconic crossroads meet. Its tall, narrow windows were illustrated with stained glass portraits of ancient heroes and legends. A painted rendition of the Kriegslowe crest was mounted high upon the wall.

Viv entered the main hall, tilting her head slightly so her massive horns would clear the frame. Inside was a wide atrium, leading to a large receptionist’s desk, flanked by a staircase on either side. To one side, these stairs curved to the upper floors, where the guild offices and residential spaces were located. A balcony overlooked the entryway. On the other side, they curved downward, to the guild’s library, record archives, and vaults.

Unfortunately, Viv found the room entirely empty, except for one man, Arien, standing behind the desk, looking rather bored. After twenty years of service, she was used to this by now and it didn’t dampen her mood at all. Today was Orientation Day, after all, a day when many veteran adventurers made themselves scarce. Maybe they were shy. Maybe they didn’t want to take on a mentorship role. Or maybe they just didn’t like the idea of these bright-eyed young upstarts tugging at their coat tails, asking questions, and eagerly seeking guidance and companionship.

Fortunately, Viv wanted all of those things and was definitely not shy about it.

“Helloooo! Good morning, Mr. Bermille! How are you?” she said to the only person present. She had the powerful voice of someone used to barking out orders… but also the gentle, patient tone of someone who won’t mind at all if those orders are questioned or outright disobeyed. In fact, that would be a teachable moment.

Viv removed her coat and draped it on a rack by the door, but still wore a pale cloak, a shawl, and Goddess-only-knows how many more layers beneath it, as well as a pair of ornate kite shields affixed to her flanks, and a gratuitously oversized ceremonial greatsword across her back. That, and the golden trinkets and silk ribbons dangling from her horns, were about as close as Viv ever came to looking "fancy." Centaurs don't exacty have ball gowns and tuxedos.

“Ohhhhh, I can’t wait to meet them!” she squealed with excitement and clapped her hands before revealing a unnaturally large wicker basket from beneath the tailor’s shop she was wearing. “I brought cookies! Gingerbread, sugar, oatmeal, and chocolate chip. Something for everyone!" she declared as she casually placed the frighteningly heavy basket on his desk. "Try one, Ari, you’ll love it! Has anyone shown up yet? I know it’s not noon yet, but-” she squealed again, lost in her own self-induced joy, then took a deep breath, composed herself, and continued in a slightly calmer tone, though it was clear she was barely containing her excitement and might abduct Arien from behind the desk at any moment and smother him in a hug. It wouldn't be the first time.

“Ahem… sorry, but you know how much I look forward to these, dear," Viv said. "It's been too long. Anyway, where’s Kaira? She should be here for this. And Cephilia, too. We need snacks! Have the floors been swept? Mopped? Polished!? It's so dark... we need candles. Gift baskets, perhaps?” She continued muttering to herself, showing little sign of stopping any time soon.

 

[Reinhardt]

CHAPTER 0x
SMALL BEGINNINGS

Location: Kriegslöwe Guildhall, Tylsen​

After what had occurred at the sewers, the recruits were given a day to rest their weary bodies and disturbed minds. However, to the veterans of the guild, this was but a pretense - while the recruits rested, the others cleaned up the sewers and dealt with the ruffians that were caught. Every clue that could be scrounged up from the sewer was handed over to Cephilia, the current acting head, and those whom she had appointed to investigate the anomalies of that quest.

During that day, another new recruit arrived at the guildhall's premises, and unlike those that came before him, his activities comprised mainly of what was in the itinerary - an orientation on becoming a Kreigslöwe, and a tour around the guildhall's facilities.

It is now the 4th day of the 3rd month, 422 AC. The day of rest is over. The recruits have once again, been summoned to the guildhall - this time to do their duties as an F-rank, and that is to accomplish the jobs and requests designated for their respective rank. The orientation, albeit late, should have been sufficient enough to let them know how to choose from the quest board, coordinate with the receptionist for proper quest filing and tracking, as well as the report that comes after accomplishing whatever request they have chosen to take on. Granted, none of the F-rank quests could really be compared to what they have previously experienced.

What was once an empty space was now populated. There were people sitting down at the chairs, waiting to be called to file their requests to the guild. Several of the guild members could be seen wandering about in the main hall, some browsing the quest board, some merely idling by. The comforting noise of a crowd chattering amongst each other was present within the main hall - it was as if the recruits were given a special day to have the guild's premises all for themself, though that day may have gone differently from what was intended.

The hall now appeared like it truly did house a guild. Even the person behind the reception desk was different, and Arien could be found on one of the chairs, sitting down and taking a gaze at the live scenery.

It is now that the recruits truly begin their first steps as Kriegslöwen.

Interaction/s: Gaius ( Kenshin772 ), Razul ( AriAriAbabwa ), Thalgrukh ( AI10100 ), Sakuranbo ( Topless ), Risax ( Huntertabbysandshark3 ), Thea ( RedArmyShogun ), Lucia ( EmperorsChosen ), Cresselinde ( King Crimson ), Falion ( AnonyMouse ), Hysydice ( Thalia_Neko ), Morgan ( The Prophet )

 

[Reinhardt]

CHAPTER 1
AWAY FROM THE MUNDANE

Location: Kriegslöwe Guildhall, Tylsen​

It is now the 7th day of the 3rd month, 422 AC - the start of a brand new week. Several days have passed by as the guild continued with its unending work - dealing with a myriad of requests that spanned from something as simple as rescuing a cat from a tree to investigating a rumored conspiracy. For the new recruits, however, a vast majority of their time went to either training at the guild's grounds or handling whatever mundane task that had been given to them.

The chirping of birds filled the air as people began to rise from their slumber and leave their homes. The streets were mostly empty, besides a countable few early risers and sleepless folks that roamed the streets. The cool air breeze swept the currently spacious paths scattered all over the city of Tylsen, with the light of the rising sun slowly illuminating the once dark roads. To many, it would be quite too early to conduct any sort of business, but the guild operates on its own rules and standards.

On the night before, a message has been passed to the new recruits, instructing them to arrive at the guildhall's premises early in the morning, specifically at one of the many meeting rooms provided by the establishment. A few Manatech lights have been switched on to provide enough illumination within the guildhall, and in the event that any of the recruits are unable to locate the specified location, a small feathered friend currently perched at the reception table would guide them towards the said room - a strange sight, but not entirely perplexing, especially to people who have delved in a profession that is cloaked in eccentricities.

Location: Meeting Room 4​

At the end of the first corridor past the reception desk was a wooden door bearing a large surface engravement depicting the number four - this is the destination specified by the instructions. Light seeped through the tiny gaps and seems of the door and its hinges, indicating that the room was being used. To further drive the point in, a sign was hung on the doorknob, that carried a message saying "ROOM IN USE", with a small text under it that welcomed those who were invited.

Within this room, is the same layout used for the other rooms in the same corridor - a pinboard attached to one of the walls, accompanied by a small desk that bore numerous supplies such as pins, empty parchments, and writing tools. Opposite this was a small platform, with two podiums on its sides, and the crest of the guild hanging at the center of this area's wall. A number of chairs were arranged and grouped on opposite sides of the room. At the center of the room was a large round table, with a small clock embedded at the center of its surface, which was slightly covered by a small stack of papers that were placed upon it, and to the side of these papers, were a number of nondescript sticks grouped together in a small metallic cylinder. Right behind this table, facing the door, was a face that would be rather familiar to the recruits - Arien Bermille.

A few steps behind him was someone who bore a seemingly perpetually grumpy face, sitting on a wooden stool, and appeared to be not quite interested in being there. A few more empty seats could be found behind Arien, and within the same vicinity as the grumpy-looking man.

"Why am I here, Arien?", the man grunted.

"That shall be explained later when everyone has arrived.", the blond responded. "For now, try to exercise some patience that you clearly lack."

"Fuck off."

Arien shook his head amusingly as if expecting that exact response from his companion. "Worry not, I believe they will arrive soon, so you will not have to wait long."

"Hopefully before Miss Vivianne and the others get here.", Arien added. "Makes the surprise better."

A small huff was the only response from the other man.

Interaction/s: Razul ( AriAriAbabwa ), Thalgrukh ( AI10100 ), Sakuranbo ( Topless ), Risax ( Huntertabbysandshark3 ), Thea ( RedArmyShogun ), Lucia ( EmperorsChosen ), Cresselinde ( King Crimson ), Falion & NPCs ( AnonyMouse ), Hysydice ( Thalia_Neko ), Morgan ( The Prophet )

 

[Reinhardt]

CHAPTER 1
AWAY FROM THE MUNDANE​

QUEST LIST

The Rocky Road​

Due to a current lack of workforce, Mosse Supplies, a local company, is left unable to send a set of farming supplies on its scheduled delivery date. The recipient of these supplies has sent a request to the Kriegslöwe Guild, seeking their aid - asking them to retrieve the said supplies and deliver them to Dhai’Nir, a mountainside town, located northeast of Tylsen.

Client: Elder Dhai of Dhai'Nir

Notes: Please look for Elder Dhai when you arrive in the town.

Reward: 2 gold feln to each participant, and a basket of mountain-grown vegetables

Wooden Woes​

Oyten, a small town that mainly lives off lumber trade, has recently had its logging businesses put to a halt due to numerous reports of a ferocious beast preventing entry into the Oytenrand Woods - attacking anyone who comes close to its territory. The town mayor has called on the Kriegslöwen to deal with the problem.

Client: Oyten Town Mayor

Reward: 2 gold feln to each participant, and some wooden products

Stolen Sanctity​

An artifact has gone missing, and was supposedly stolen from the Aurelian Church’s temple in the city of Ruben. An Aurezian diplomat has sent a request to the Kriegslöwe Guild, asking for assistance in investigating and possibly resolving the issue.

Client: Ariadne Lenz

Notes: Please look for Ariadne Lenz at the temple for further details.

Reward: 3 gold feln to each participant

Finding Fins​

Fish vendors from the portside town of Lohrof has been reporting that their fishes are disappearing from their market stalls for the past week. A concerned investor has sent a request for the guild to investigate the matter before any further revenue is lost.

Client: Samael Peries

Reward: 2 gold feln to each participant, and some products from the fish market

☆ Let's Have Some Fun! ☆​

*This paper seems to change color for every person's perspective.

"Hello Kriegslöwen! I heard you got some new folks added to your numbers! Lend them to me so we can have a little party! Meet me at Tylsen's city gates! Yes, I'll see you there!"

Client: Emarizadeel, Envoy of Chaos

Reward: ???

 

[AnonyMouse]

Falion "Falco" Cauphix​

Location: Tylsen streets
Time: 3 / 16 / 422AC, midday ​

Another busy day in Tylsen. Falco’s plan to tackle three quests in rapid succession went fairly well, all things considered. His knowledge of the city’s layout allowed himself and his two comrades to navigate the bustling streets and flow from one location to the next, even encountering their fellow adventurers along the way. It seemed everyone was keeping busy. More importantly, he managed to avoid putting his foot in his mouth a second time and keep things civil with the ladies, choosing instead to let his actions speak for themselves.

They were en route to their third destination, their arms laden with packages to be delivered, when they crossed paths with Endymion and Talio, who informed them the acting guildmaster wished for everyone to attend a ‘small gathering’ at her home at sundown. Falco immediately found this strange, but was never one to turn down a free meal, nor an invitation to a beautiful lady’s home at nightfall... not that he had ever received such a thing.

As the two boys departed to spread the word, Falco couldn’t help but feel they were all being roped into something big, yet again. The sewers. Oyten. Heine’s warehouses. Fate seemed to have a way of finding them, inviting them to take a dip, and then roughly shoving them into the deep end, just when they were learning to paddle. But this time was different. This was not mere ‘fate.’ This time, fate had a name: Rhoshanna De Luna.

There was no doubt she would be there. In fact, he was certain this was all her doing. Cephilia was not one for celebrations. She literally said so herself, at their promotion. No, the cat was definitely behind this. This was not a meal given out of the kindness of her heart. They must need something from us, Falco thought, trying to reason through it all, trying to think in four dimensions. Or want something from us, he corrected, his old street rat ways coming back to him. Nobles rarely ever ‘needed’ anything.

But his train of thought terminated there. What could Cephilia and this woman possibly want from a bunch of E Ranks? The latter had an entire guild branch at her disposal, and the former… well, she didn’t appear to be in dire straits either. All he could say is that he didn’t like the way the cat woman talked in circles and toyed with him. Thinking back on their encounter, he now felt his attempts at payback were clumsy and juvenile. Embarrassing, even. The only reason he didn’t fully resent her is because she seemed to notice he was out of his depth and ended things before he could fall any further. A small mercy, given too late.

Falco had spent most of his life trying to avoid fights. Running away or bullshitting his way out of situations and keeping a fistful of sand or a shank for when things really got dire. These days, all he thought about was getting stronger, so he won’t have to back down. But what if that’s the wrong way to go about it? What if there’s a way to fight with words? Since joining Kriegslowe, Falco had spent plenty of time honing his blades and arts, yet none honing what he used to feel was his greatest asset: his silver tongue.

Bwahahaha! Who are you kidding? he thought as he began to fall behind Lucia and Thea, grinning to himself like a madman. You can barely tell anyone how you feel without making a fool of yourself. You're no silver-tongued devil.

Well, maybe it was time to change that...

With newfound resolve, Falco picked up his pace and took the lead. "Sorry," he said, for getting distracted. He wasn’t sure if this woman was a new ally or a new enemy or something in-between. But, just like everything they had faced before, he would rise to the occasion. He couldn’t afford not to. She won’t beat me a second time...

Rhoschanna De Luna​

Location: Tylsen, Marble District, Valdergeuse Estate
Time: sundown​

The aroma of warm food fills the halls of Cephilia Valdergeuse’s home as she and her companions prepare a small feast for their guests. After hours of work, the meal prep is nearly complete and the kitchen can barely contain the amount of activity taking place. They make their final push, just as the sun begins to set.

“Okay, hear me out…” Rhoschanna said, as she paused to take a break from the greenery and vegetables she had been slicing for nearly half an hour. “I have always been a firm believer in specialization, but-”

Cephilia groaned. “I thought we agreed you don’t speak anymore until that salad is done?” she said, looking up from the glazed ham she was carving to side-eye the chatty cat.

“Oh, no, let her go on. I quite enjoy these stimulating discussions,” Viv said, trembling with giddy delight as she paused from icing her cake to fetch a tray of cookies from the oven. “I found your commentary on… what was it… 'the merit-based socioeconomic policies of Valgemian aristocracy versus the dwindling Raelgardin upper-middle class’ to be truly fascinating!”

“Why, thank you! Unlike Cephilia, we enjoy the exchange of ideas through dialogue with others. It is how we grow wiser, together,” Rho said. “Furthermore, friends should not stand in silence. Lady Yvarra, you are a true friend to all, and I cherish you. Cece should follow your example.”

“Well, since Viv approves,” she gave the centaur a death glare, “Carry on. I, too, am morbidly fascinated by how many roundabout ways you can come up with to say we --and, more specifically, you-- shouldn’t be cooking,” Cephilia replied.

“Hmmm? Oh, no, darling, I revel in this! If anything, I feel we should do this more often,” Rhoschanna said, as she set about chopping the salad once more. “These young adventurers are working so incredibly hard. They deserve to be treated once in a while, and it is my pleasure to be of assistance in that endeavor. However…” she paused for emphasis, “I am a believer in specialization. ‘Choose the best person for the job,’ I say.”

“Ergo, we shouldn’t be cooking. It’s ‘beneath us,’” Cephilia summarized.

“No, darling, that is not what I said. Quite the opposite, in fact, if you would let me finish,” Rhoschanna rebutted, wagging her finger at the other woman. “There is a time when choosing the wrong person can have the desired effect. The meal is more impactful because we are not cooks. I see what you are trying to do here and applaud you wholeheartedly. It's actually quite brilliant.”

“Ah, so I'm using food to manipulate them? Don’t be ridiculous,” Cephilia said.

“Oh, but you are, Cece… and there is nothing wrong with that. Some of us are good at using our words to show appreciation. Others, such as yourself, possess a crippling inability to verbalize even the slightest hint of love, as if you are allergic to warm fuzzy thoughts. An apology dinner is sooo you! Don't deny it.”

"She does have a point," Viv proposed. "Cephilia, didn't you spend hours handcrafting arcanizers for a group of total strangers, only to claim you don't have time to train or interact with them? And don't even get me started on Talio's arm..."

Rhoschanna doubled over with laughter. "Yes! That's the Cephilia I know. Our lovable little introvert, ever tinkering. Where would she be without us?"

"I have always said she keeps her heart in her toolbox."

"Vivienne, whose side are you on!?" Cephilia said, exasperated. She cast her eyes down to hide her embarassment. "You're both insane. This dinner is just an excuse to get them all in one room, so I can fill them in on the situation... and so Rho can make a fool of herself. With everything going on, I think we can all use a good laugh about now, and she's good for that much, at least."

"Well, unlike our pointy-eared wallflower, I can endure being the butt of a joke or two. It comes with the territory," Rho said with a knowing smirk. "Laugh all you want. You wouldn't give me an audience if you didn't think my proposition has some merit, darling. I really do think Lord Ainsworth is up to something. I can't prove it yet, but with your help, we'll nail this bastard to the wall."

"You don't know these recruits the way I do," Cephilia scofffed. "Each of them is problematic in their own way. I doubt you'll get the results you expect."

Rhoschanna stifled a small chuckle. "Cece, darling, how many times must I tell you: the world isn't like one of your precious clockwork gizmos. The gears never turn the way you would like them to, but turn they must." In a darker tone, she said, "We'll get results. Nothing is worse than stagnation. I hate to see you idle, darling. I hate to see you afraid."

"Yet again, she has a point," Viv said as she balanced her completed cake on one hand and the still-warm tray of cookies on another. "A guild branch was destroyed. The same nearly happened here. And we still haven't heard from Maze or Kaira. We must do something, even if it means groping in the dark for answers where we may find none."

"This isn't 'groping in the dark.' This is infiltrating the home of a man who already despises Kriegslowe. If discovered, we would be validating his years of falsehoods. Every vile lie will be tainted with truth," Cephilia said. "The world isn't a wind-up toy to be played with, Rho. It's a powderkeg... and you're trying to light the fuse."

Rhoschanna's eyes narrowed on her. "Spare me your pedantic speeches. It's already lit. Ask Kaira or Krafen's guildmaster, if they still live."

The two women stared at one another in silence, an animosity tempered by years of understanding, as the playful banter turned to something much, much more serious. Viv, sensing the tension, began to back toward the dining hall, to deliver her goods to the other room. However, Sen charged in, slapping the centaur's furry flanks as she charged into the kitchen.

"The fuck are you guys doin' in here!?" the Syrieth demanded to know. "It's almost time and the food ain't ready yet? C'mon! Aaron and the girl need more plates. Where y'all keep the dishes?"

"Third cupboard on the right," Rhoschanna said with a friendly smile, as she positioned herself between Cephilia and the wildling. "And it's 'Arien,' darling. Arien Bermille. Why can't anyone get this man's name right?"

"Whatever. You know who I meant," Sen said as she yanked the cupboard open and snatched out a dozen plates. "By the way, what're we drinkin'? I know you got wine in this joint, elf. Where's it at?" she said as she gripped the dinnerware as if she might throw them at any moment.

"Stop calling me 'elf,' elf. And I'm not wasting my good wine on this," Cephilia retorted.

"Of course not. She needs that for drowning her sorrows, alone at night," Rhoschanna teased. "Fear not, Miss Hyazari. I shall prepare some special tea for the ocassion."

"Like hell you are! I've been subjected to your 'special tea' before and this is not that kind of ocassion!" Cephilia said, bristling with anger.

"Oh, but it caaaan be."

"I feel like there's a story here..." Viv commented.

Rhoschanna laughed. "Oh, there is. Shame, she doesn't remember any of it. But I do."

"Okay, you've got my attention. What's in this tea?"

"Only the finest medicinal herbs and spices the law will allow. Enough to liven up even the stodgiest old elf."

"Hit me. That sounds like my kind o' party," Sen said with a satisfied grin as she backed out of the kitchen with a stack of plates and saucers. "We'll talk later 'bout any other 'medicinal herbs' ya got, cat lady. It better be good."

"For a friend of a friend, only the best," Rhoschanna said with a wink.

The moment Sen was out of sight, Cephilia slowly shook her head. "Do you exist to corrupt everyone you meet?" she said with a sigh.

"We can all use a little push toward the edge," Rhoschanna said with an innocent shrug. "But, relax, darling, I won't be making my special blend tonight. This matter is far too important for that. But, perhaps, a little something to sharpen their minds won't go amiss. I want our friends to have their wits about them tonight. We have so much to discuss."

And thus their banter continued into dusk. And, as the sun began to sink below the rooftops, the first of many knocks were heard upon the door as the guests arrived and plans were put into motion...

Chapter 2: The Old Flame​

Location: Tylsen, Marble District Valdergeuse Estate
Time: 3 / 16 / 422AC, nightfall ​

Falco ascended the steps to Cephilia's home with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his nicest pair of pants. He wasn't quite sure what to wear. Was this a formal event or something casual? He opted for somewhere in-between and choose not to don his armor and adventuring gear. He only brought two small knives and kept them well-concealed within his jacket.

His mind raced, but his heart rate remained steady as his knuckles rapped lightly upon her door. He could hear voices within. He waited for footfalls, but none reached his ears. Instead, the door opened before him without warning or preamble, and there she was.

"Ah, we meet again, Falion. So delighted to see you," the cat said as she beckoned him to enter.

Ugh, it knows my name now. Well, two can play that game, Falco thought as he shuffled inside and the woman shut the door behind him. "Good evening to you as well, Lady De Luna. I am delighted to see she hasn't turned you into a frog yet."

"If she did, I am sure a kiss from you would return me to normal," she teased as she took the lead and guided him toward the dining hall.

Falco briefly gimaced, not at the mental image of that, but at the way she returned fire so swiftly and efficiently. When he bantered with Cephilia, or even Lucia, he could feel their ire. With those two, he sometimes felt he was walking a tightrope over an active volcano. But Rhoschanna seemed unfazed, even when he was taking a dig at her, as if she enjoyed this.

Fortunately, they soon reached the dining hall, where Falco discovered he was neither the first nor the last of the guests to arrive. Many of his E-Rank companions were already present. Vivienne, Arien, and even Sen were there as well, which came as no surprise. Oddly enough, Rena was also in attendance, sitting near Cephilia at the head of the table. Falco breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that their guildmaster was wearing a relatively simple blouse and plain trousers. So, this wasn't a super formal event, after all. She even had her sleeves rolled up, revealing her typical adornments: arcanizer on one wrist and multiple timepieces on the other. Rhoschanna was the only one trying to score fashion points here, which made her look significantly over-dressed as she spoke to Rena in a hushed voice. As he looked at the two feline beastkin together, Falco couldn't help but notice some... similarities.

Naaah, couldn't be, he thought with a subtle shake of his head.

Once all of the attendees arrived, the food was served. There was quite the spread, with a wide variety of meats, vegetables, cheeses, and grains on offer. However, Falco noted the meal was more of a sampling of various things, rather than a heavy banquet, further reinforcing his belief that this was not going to be a proper dinner party, but a 'meeting' with food as a backdrop. Okay, what's really going on? he thought as he returned to his seat with a small pile of sliced meats over rice, and some of Viv’s cookies on the side.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out. Once everyone was served or served themselves, Cephilia took up a position at the head of the table and tapped her glass, to get their attention:

"First and foremost, I would like to thank you all for showing up tonight. We are honored to serve those who serve," she said, her voice even and slightly somber, lacking the sharp edge he had come to expect from the prickly Caskarieth. "I know it is in poor taste to reveal who prepared what, so I will simply say, if anything is not to your liking, that was me. Blame it on the acting guildmaster," she said, regaining a small glimmer of humor.

"More importantly, I want to thank you for your patience," she went on to say, pausing to swirl her glass of red liquid before taking a sip. Wine? No one else had wine. Did she need liquid courage? "I understand the past week has been… difficult for you. For us all. Ever since you joined, you have found yourselves facing unprecedented trials. Threats we never imagined, have attacked from angles we cannot fathom and, by the grace of the Goddess, you all have been there every time.

"Now, each and every one of you is smart enough to know I didn’t invite you here merely to fill your belly, feed your ego, or subject you to my longwinded apologies and floundering attempts at humor." That sharp edge, that cold confidence he had come to expect from Cephilia began to rise once more as she spoke: "No, we’re here for one thing: Krafen."

Cephilia was far from done, but now took her seat, a gesture symbolizing this wasn’t a speech. She wasn’t going to stand over them and talk down. This was an open discussion of the Tylsen branch's future and their role in shaping it. This dining hall was the war room and they were all in this together.

"What happened in Krafen was no accident. We were attacked."

Falco expected this and yet, as it played out before him, it felt surreal -- even more so as she began to lay out the details of what they knew and, more importantly, what they didn't. Their actual guildmaster was missing, or worse. Traces of veracite were found at the scene. The containment devices smuggled into Tylsen’s sewers by the so-called ‘bandits’ suggested the same thing nearly happened here. Falco had heard bits and pieces of some of this information before, but there was so much more than he imagined and so many questions remained unanswered.

After the incident in the sewers, she had opened an internal investigation into the matter. What little they knew about the Krafen attack had come from an adventurers by the name of Integra Masri. Falco had seen the petite black-haired beastfolk hanging around the guildhall after they defeated Lou the Raven and his cohorts. Although she never approached them for questioning, he could tell, just from looking at her, that he would squeal like a newborn piglet if she did… not that he had anything to confess to. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

Cephilia explained that the guild’s silence was only supposed to be temporary, only until they learned enough to mount a response. But in the absence of new developments, rumors and outright lies began to run rampant. The devastation in Krafen was less than a week old and things were already getting out of hand, so she would be releasing an internal statement tomorrow, to bring the other adventurers up to speed, and something more public would be released in the coming days, but only after reaching a consensus with the other guildmasters.

As she spoke, Falco's eyes wandered from the Caskarieth to the other veterans. Vivienne seemed very contemplative, probably not feeling great about keeping this a secret from them. He had always felt she was the heart of this group. Sen, on the other hand, looked uninterested in all of it. She just sat there, feeding bits of fruit to Marcel, and fidgeting with annoyance, as if she might leap up and do a lap around the room at any moment. Arien was the same as always, stoic and professional, nearly to a fault. And Rhoschanna remained uncharacteristically quiet, proving she was capable of not being the center of attention. It didn't really occur to him at first but, as Cephilia continued to speak about guild matters, Falco became increasingly aware that there was one person in their midst who was neither an adventurer nor a staff member. Even Cephilia's old butler, Maurice, wasn't around for this clandestine meeting... yet here was the cat lady, soaking up all of their secrets.

Hmm...

"Now you know as much as we do. But that is not the only reason I have summoned you here, tonight," Cephilia said, her eyes wistfully lingering on her now-empty glass. "I cannot even begin to tell you how delicate this situation is. The sewer map was stolen from our archives and Maze found fake guild crests in Krafen's rubble. I won't be releasing either of those facts in my statement, so they mustn't leave this room. Trust is of the utmost importance here. I am telling you these things because I trust each and every one of you,” Cephilia said, looking to each of them in turn. “Knowledge is power. With power comes responsibility."

"Look, Cephilia is going to dance around the issue all night. I'll get right down to it," Rhoschanna said as she fetched a bottle of wine --Cephilia's wine-- from beneath the table and refilled her glass, before refilling Cephilia's as well and passing the bottle to the nearest adventurer. "Half of you don't trust me. The other half don't like me. But I have actionable intel and you have nothing. I have a job for you... unless you would rather toil around town, with your head in the sand, pretending there aren't enemies moving against you even as we speak. So, if there are no further questions about the doom and gloom, I propose a way forward, but I need to know I can trust you. I'm staking my reputation and perhaps even my life on this, so no more games."

Interaction(s): Reinhardt (Arien, Van) / @lunar_moth (Endymion) / @Silver Wolf (Lupa) / @TreasureSniper (Talio) / @ERode (Lori) / RedArmyShogun (Thea) / EmperorsChosen (Lucia) / Thalia_Neko (Hyss) / Topless (Sakura) / Huntertabbysandshark3 (Risax) / King Crimson (Cressey)