• PM To Join • [Oakleigh] Meeting the Oakleigh Venoras

[Sintih]

Ymiden, 78th, 717th Arc
Duke of Oakleigh's Estate, Oakleigh, Eastern Settlements

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he group of horsemen slowly moved towards the Oakleigh estate along the tree-flanked road leading towards it. From a distance it was difficult to tell how many of them there were due to their formation, two by two. As they got closer to the house, it became clear that there were three rows of them, six in total. All six members of the group seemed to be enjoying their drive up to the house as evidenced by the faint sound of laughing. It was still morning but not too early in the morning that a known lazy noble might still be in bed. Perhaps a break or three after Faldrun had graced Idalos with the sun rising on the horizon.

Sintih was the first of the group to arrive at the house and dismount. Unlike the previous trial, he was now arriving during the full operation of the house and Sin was busy looking at the various members of the household going about their daily chores. As he dismounted, the other five men also did and their laughter died down. Directions were given and hands formed various signs to accompany them with translations as well. The horses were loosely tied to the provided rings before the six men started heading up the stairs.

Unlike the trial before, Sin wasn't wearing the fancy cloak. Instead, he wore a full set of leather armor without the helmet. His weapon of choice, the short sword, was curiously placed on the back of his belt, hanging almost horizontally from it, ready to be drawn from the right side. His long black hair had been neatly tied into a ponytail, reaching past his shoulders. Either because he had been here before or because he was in charge, Sin was walking in front of the rest of the group, first up the stairs.

One step behind Sin, a large Qi'ora was stomping up the steps to the estate, wearing full chain mail armor, helmet under one arm. The other arm was supporting a large kite shield and a keen looking axe was hanging from his belt. If it hadn't been for the cracks and the mud brown color of his skin, the man's muscular build and size would have made him stand out from the rest of the group. The Qi'ora was busy making sure the last spot of dirt was gone from his armor, trying to clean it off with his thumb.

Next to the Qi'ora, a human was walking up the stairs. Dressed in equally clean chain mail armor, the man was busy taking his helmet off to reveal what was surely an attempt at maintaining the wild hair on his head. It had been tied into a similar ponytail as Sintih but the man's hair seemed to refuse the binds, instead breaking free in various directions. To go with the wild hair, the man was wearing a patchwork of clothing underneath, seemingly combined from various, once fashionable, outfits. Compared to the tall Eídisi leading him and the muscular Qi'ora next to him, the human looked almost tiny. He wore a sword on his belt. To anyone paying any attention to the man, the slave mark on his right cheek would jump out quickly.

Halfway up the stairs, following the group, the seemingly oldest member of the group was turning on the stairs to check on the last two still with the horses. His salt and pepper hair was more of a salt and paprika hair due to the red hair he used to have when he was younger. Now, the grey was spreading through it. The third member of the group to be dressed in full chain mail, the human shifted his Heater shield to his left arm and waved his right hand in the air in front of him towards the last two members of the group. He had a hammer hanging from his belt.

At the bottom of the stairs, two humans were looking after the horses, making sure they were tied down and that everything was in order. Both were wearing similar leather armor as Sintih but they looked less used than his. One of them, wearing a stylish robe underneath his armor that allowed his legs to still move freely in case of combat, was waving his hands back towards the older man on the stairs before quickly brushing one of the horses and making sure the saddle and saddlebags were secured. A step from him, leaning against the stone railing of the front stairs of the estate stood a long pole weapon, a blade on top. Once he was done with the horse, the young man made sure his own armor and outfit looked spotless before heading up the stairs.

The last to move towards the estate was a young human wearing a bow and quiver over his shoulders. He wore plain clothes underneath his armor, colored grey like the bricks and stones used for the buildings in Oakleigh. He pulled the hood of his outfit back to reveal a lightly bearded face and alert eyes. He seemed to be more keen than the rest to look around the front of the estate as he patted his horse and checked the bindings of the reins once more. He joined the last two members of the group on the stairs as all three of them headed up.

Sintih walked up to the large front doors and knocked. Yesterday he had been here hoping to get hired by the new duke. This trial, Sin was here to learn all he could about the people he was supposed to protect from now on and to start his job. Between the six of them, Sin was confident that he could provide the duke with the proper security the man deserved. When the door opened, Sin turned to face the person and greeted them. "Good morning. We're here to meet the duke. He should be expecting me. If not, would you mind letting him know that Sintih Rathaan has arrived as discussed."

► Show Spoiler

If anyone is curious about the NPCs that are arriving with Sintih, you can find more information on them in his CS, under people.

[Atolini Venora]

The young noble had been stirred from her beauty sleep, her hair was frazzled and blood shot eyes crept open as her bad attitude was marinating her mindscape as she was agrieved to be awake at this hour. What was it the afternoon, she smacked her lips with her tongue tasting the nastyness a reminiscence of dinner long past. Her mouth fumed of pungent nauseating odor like smoldering jacadon breath.

All at once Atolini willed herself from her sepulture of silk and fine linens and roamed the halls of her brothers abode like one of the undead, slowly dragging herself forward to sanctuary where she would find salvation the bathroom the land ruled by the porcelain throne. In Sabatiant, with her whole family tucked under one roof it was truly the game of thrones each one vying for bathroom supremacy.

Hand staggering clawing her way through the necessary necessities until she found the one bad boy she so desperately needed.

Hrmmm

Its companion toothpaste was missing in action.

"Welp ive done all I can do here"she murmered as she slowly dragged herself down the stairs. The tooth paste waiting for her on the sink, where she left it the morning before sat in sullen isolation as if to cry out for her to open her eyes and look but alas it was too late as she absconded.

Toothbrush dangling out of her mouth she opened the door, in her night gown.

Much to her dismay she was greeted by Sintih again, mmmmhmmmm she thought. Eye brow raised with the look of undeath plastered to her features, she nodded as she surveyed him with the evil eye, the signature look a woman gives a man that lets them know how much shit theyve unwittingly stepped in.

The look had passed and there was only silence before the storm. Her features melted and became placid as she responded.

Yup....

Uhuh....

Yea...

Wait here, Ill go fetch him this instant!

Door closed with a thunderous boom, click clack of the lock and ole Atolini clamored up the stairs across the hall and back to bed.

[Sintih]

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in wondered where he recognized the woman from who came to open the door. Never in his life had he seen such a display. Perhaps he recognized her from the trial before but there hadn't been any servants then so how could he recognize her? Sin tried to remember as the woman before him listened to his quick introduction. She seemed to have no clue at all about why he was here or who he even was. Maybe Tristan hadn't changed as much as Sin wanted to believe.

When the woman closed the door in his face and the sound of the door locking came from inside, Sin knew who had just been talking to him. Last night she had been a horrible person who looked like a noble. This morning she was a horrible person who looked like a horrible person. Her hair had been all over the place, none of the standard make up that was expected of a noble. In fact, Sin was quite sure she'd been wearing nothing but a night gown. Not that he imagined there would be anything to see on such a brat. He let out a slow sigh before knocking on the door again.

Maybe an accident might solve the problem? Sin thought as he turned to the Qi'ora next to him. "Meet the duke's sister. She's lovely, isn't she." The Qi'ora nodded absently, his eyes glued to the door where just before a very casually dressed young woman had been standing. From the looks of it, the Qi'ora had seen something there that Sin couldn't imagine. He wasn't even surprised anymore. "Iemes, stay with Theth and continue knocking until someone opens up. I'll go and have a look around with the rest." Sin ordered the larger man as he passed him and headed back down the stairs. In passing the young robed warrior, he moved his hands, motioning towards the Qi'ora and the door. The young man nodded and walked up the steps to join the Qi'ora.

"Let's go find someone that works here. I'm sure they'll be able to get us inside." The other three of his companions joined Sin back down the stairs and walked with him left around the estate. From what he'd seen last night, the garden where he had met with the duke was somewhere around the back of the house but it was fully walled off. Sin didn't want to risk getting shot by trying to climb inside. They walked towards the left corner of the building and into the garden, walking and looking for several bits before they managed to spot someone else.

They found someone working around a flower bed in the left gardens, either a gardener or a servant, it mattered very little to Sin. "Good morning, Ser. We're here to see the duke but nobody is answering our call at the front door. Would you mind letting the duke know that Sintih Rathaan's here to see him? He should be aware of who we are." Sin waited for the man to go and fetch the duke for him. Once the man had left, Sin let out another sigh and shook his head. "I'm afraid it'll get worse before it'll get better. Hopefully, we'll have access to some sort of servants entrance by tomorrow." It was a general statement to whomever around him was listening as he started walking back towards the front of the house.

[Tristan Venora]

The man did try and fetch the duke, but the door to the duke’s private quarters was locked, and he could hear strange sounds coming from the other side. Somebody was hammering quite loudly. Fearing that they were trying to kill his employer the man moved to break the door before he remembered that Tristan Venora had been a famous sculptor before his unexpected promotion. Apparently, he realized, he still sculpted occasionally. So instead of breaking the door, he knocked loudly several times – to no avail. Apparently the duke couldn’t hear him. What was he supposed to do now? Tell Mr. Rathaan that, sorry, the duke was busy? No, there had to be another way!

~~~

Tristan missed sculpting. Back when he had been an artist, life had been much easier. He also missed Zanik, the Immortal that had marked him. He had not heard anything from him since the premiere of his great play. So he had decided to make a sculpture of his favourite male Immortal and send it to him (although he had no idea where Zanik actually lived). Normally he took a lot of artistic license, but this time he tried to make a realistic sculpture because he wanted Zanik to be happy and not take his mark away again because he thought he was making fun of him.

He had picked a nice white stone. The Zanik that he remembered had been a broad-shouldered individual and tall and dominating, with long dark hair. He had also been friendly and had had a sense of humor, so Tristan had decided to make his sculpture smile rather than making it look all serious and dignified like the sculptures he had seen in the various museums in Andaris.

It was hard work. Tristan’s hands hurt from hitting the back of the chisel with his hammer about a thousand times – sculpting took quite a bit of strength, especially if you were using stone as a medium – but Zanik was the Immortal of Strength in addition to the Immortal of Music and Seduction, so hopefully he would approve.

All the hard work eventually made him thirsty, so Tristan put his chisel and his hammer down and reached for the bottle of Venora Rose that stood on a nearby table. In public he usually drank wine from Oakleigh, but in secret he still drank other wines occasionally.

He was just about to take a gulp, when he noticed somebody in front of the window. One of his servants was standing there and looking quite desperate. The duke put the bottle down again, furrowed his brow and walked over to the window to open it.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Sintih Rathaan is here to see you, Your Grace!” the man informed him. Tristan nodded. He considered telling the man that he was busy – he really wanted to finish his Zanik sculpture – but Sintih would be responsible for the security of this place. It would be a bad idea to make the man that was supposed to protect you mad. He might just decide to get rid of his unlikeable employer! So Tristan grabbed the bottle of Venora Rose (Sintih would probably be thirsty and tired from the journey) and went to answer the door.

~~~

Tristan had not changed his clothes. They were made of silk and velvet and had probably cost a fortune, but there was a bit of dust on them now from all the sculpting, and there was even a chunk of stone in his hair. He had noticed it when he had brushed a stray lock out of his face, but he had decided not to remove it because men were allowed to wear hair ornaments as well, right?

“Mr. Rathaan!” he greeted the Eidisi before he looked at the men that were with him. “Are these your soldiers? Welcome to Oakleigh! How was your trip? What is he by the way?” He pointed at the Qi’ora. He had never seen anybody like him! Was he even a real person?

“If you don’t mind the question. I don't mean to offend you”, he quickly added, realizing that pointing at somebody and asking what he was probably not very polite. As a duke he ought to try and be more polite.

“Please come in! I have wine and cake and everything.” He showed them the bottle. “I’m not sure why nobody answered the door. My sister should be at home. I should probably tell her that you are here. She seems to like you quite a bit!”

[Hart]

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"

From his place high up in one of the many trees that lined the road leading to the mansion, Hart stopped his sketch of a bird and watched the procession of horses and men go by.

He thought little of them other than noticing they were there, not immediately making the connection between this group and the party of bodyguards that Tristan had reportedly hired just trial-last. His mind instead was in his work; he had come outside on such a fine day to appreciate and make use of the hot but-not-too-hot Ymiden weather before Saun could come and make it unbearable to spend any amount of time outside. Watching the men leisurely passing by below, he stopped drawing the bird as it tittered away on bright wings, perhaps stirred, too, by the sight of horses and men.

Instead, Hart turned his attentions more fully to the six-man party, and began to quickly sketch them, as quickly as he could in fact, practicing his speed drawing as he focused on the long-haired bluish man in the front of the procession, a noble, thin fellow as finely dressed in his armor as any of the others following behind him. Altogether he decided they made a striking company.

By the time they had entirely passed he had done a couple sketches, mostly of the first and second in the double-line and their horses, only done in vague lines and shapes. As they went on further down the road he added detail as he remembered it, the slant of the second one's brow and the line of his mouth, the horses' markings and the exact riding posture with which the people had been holding their bodies and heads.

Soon enough such details were exhausted and he looked around for the bird that had flown, intent to climb down from the tree to follow it, but the brightly-colored thing was no longer in sight-- a pity, as Hart was even now still getting used to the wildlife of Oakleigh and didn't think he had seen such a bird before. Carefully swinging down from the tree onto bare feet, his pant legs rolled to the knee and wearing a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves likewise rolled, he tucked the charcoal he'd been using behind his ear and made his way slowly back towards the big house that he sometimes thought as great as a castle.

He wasn't sure what time of day it was, nearing noon? But as he approached the manor, cutting through the grass outside, he now again made note of the procession, only this time realizing who they were. Up ahead he watched as they knocked on the door only for it to be opened and then slammed in their faces, and Hart could only imagine who that had been-- certainly not a servant as all of Tristan's servants were friends of Hart's and good people at that. Probably Atolini then.

By the time he reached the front walk most of the party had moved on, disappearing around the side of the house and towards the back gardens, and Hart went after them, waving to the others at the door to follow if they wanted rather than just stand around outside. Walking a little more briskly now, perhaps preparing to apologize for their rude welcome at the front of the house, he rounded the manor and found the group of armored men just as Tristan, dusty from scultping, opened the door to the back yard.

As Tristan asked 'what' one of the men were and then hurried to say he did not mean to offend, Hart winced and then couldn't help but smile, standing at the back of the group with the sketchbook tucked under his arm. The men would note, when they saw him, that he was dressed much less fancily than his look-alike half brother, in normal day-to-day clothes. Other than that, however, he looked a lot like Tristan; strikingly so. There were little differences here and there, in demeanor and accent especially as Hart usually didn't bother to hide the Biqaj swagger to his step or flavor to his words, but just from sight alone... most who did not know them well would not be able to tell them apart. Perhaps Hart looked a little more tired, a little more worn.

Now the Venoran bastard stepped with them as Tristan invited them in for cake and wine, still trailing after the group as they marched into the house.

"I hope you don't mind," he said once any hellos were done, having gone through and shaken their hands if anyone offered, "But I did a couple quick sketches while you were coming down the road. Didn't realize who you were or I would have said hello earlier and let you into the house." As Tristan had shown them the bottle before Hart now indicated the closed sketchbook, looking a little pink around his nose from the sun but other than that nothing worse the wear. He ran a hand through messy hair.

"I'm Hart," he said then, "Pleased to meet you all." If they gave him any undue attention he'd laugh and say, "Don't mind me lurking around, though do feel free to ask me if you need anything and I'll direct you as best I can." He smiled again and gestured to the man who may as well have been his twin. "But of course, Tristan's the one you're here for."

[Atolini Venora]

The dormant daughter that slept beneath the banner of the rose, rested happily head submerged in a pillows fluffy delight. And oh what a wonderful rest she was having, each moment passing in blissfully tranquil paradise, the only thing missing was some sort of fruity drink with an umbrella but nonetheless its time she happily wasted without regret.

Atolini felt great having worked on her brothers project the night before, it felt good being able to apply her skill with fletching again.

But the joy was short lived as the landscaper who belonged outside was now inside, she could hear his boots clattering and making a ruckus. Atolini rolled her eyes as she drew the sheets over her head as she scorned her cheap tactic by not fully securing the perimeter and locking all the doors now the property was besieged by peasants. Worse yet there stink of squalor loomed in the abode. It was over, whatever semblance of peace and quiet she had was just washed away far enough out where you cant touch it but so close you could see it drifting away in the tide.

Welp succumbing to cruel fate Atolini rolled out of bed as she struggled through her morning routine, brushing her hair.

Today would be a good day she thought as she pulled out the box with her finished crossbow bolts. A second examination revealed something she all but forgot to do, put lacquer on the wooden shafts. Oops she noticed another part of unfinished business, she hadnt polished the bodkin points.

This part was easy regular polish in a rag and and go over the metal diligently, each time the metal sparkled and glistened with every pass of the rag exposed the true beauty of the steel. It really did make the bolts look more pleasing to the eye elegant and sophisticated for a tool thats only purpose was to shiv stuff at a distance.

Atolini wanted to accentuate the glimmer of steel with a proper finish to the wood too preserve and highlight the exotic features of the grain with a brush and can of clear lacquer atolini began painting the wooden parts evenly with each careful stroke of the brush, every dip into the can of clear coat the noble attempted to take precautionary measures making sure not to drizzle anything on the furniture as she wiped excess off along the inner edges.

When finally complete Atolini opened the window to her room, and sat each bolt standing up. She wanted to use Defiance and dance with the wind to speed the procedure but the young master needed to demonstrate daunting refrain, she felt seperated and anxtious it was a horrible feeling like giving the cold shoulder to a best friend as she kept her relationship with the air and wind a secret.

How terrible she felt, as the blinds closed and attempted to ready herself for the day, gear check, cloths check, hrmmm toothbrush check as she raised a quizzical brow as the personal effect had been in her mouth the entire time.

With quiver and bow in hand, the young venora checked the coating and when dry she harvested the standing crossbow bolts to present to her brother neatly stacked in a basket as she dared to venture over yonder beyond the safety of her bedroom door. If only for the promise of cake, Tristan could have whispered it and Atolini would have heard it she was a junk food junkie at times.

Down the staircase she went, happily obliged to greet the guests she so despised well at least the sell swords. She could surmise who her brother was between him and ger half brother Hart, clearly he was the one dressed in cloths suitable for royalty and allowed them to nonchalantly tarnish with dust and flakes of stone. As if that hadnt been enough of a clue it was clear as day to his Sister as he even allowed a chip to dangle about in his hair just for whatevs it was so posh.she couldnt stand it. Without question that was ~her~ brother.

Her ~other~ brother from another mother Hart she viewed like her brother she cared for him even if others in the family passed judgements as Atolini seemed to take on Tristans attitude when it came to bastards at least he had venora blood running through his veins he was one of us afterall even upstarts could have money its lineage that counts Hart had ancestry and thats what mattered oh and he doodled well. They were both artists they just had chosen different mediums.

And that was beside the point, the real bastard in all of this was Sintih and friends.

"Oh there you are Brother I was looking all over for you! Also I found a nice piece of ash wood and helped myself to some tools, but look arent they lovely."

Atolini presented her wicker basket, filled with crossbow bolts made of ash wood, sporting bodkin tips and fletched from hawk feathers its plumage of white red and browns. The clear oil coat made the grains look like temperlines as the wood itself came off a shade of white while the bodkin tips radiated the light magnificently thanks to her last minute touches.

"Sorry Sintih was it? I had to get the Dukes permission before I let you and strangers into the house. Im sure you'll understand"

The hellion rode her stallion of reasoning like a white knight clamoring for the moral high ground to objectively justify her blatant deuschbaggery. Atolini was pretty nefarious in that regard, as she was quick to be a slick bitch that passive aggressively operated under the radar like it was casual indiscretion. Sintih would know it, and feel her seething intent directed at him but everyone else might be unaware of it. She hadnt forgotten his retort, she remembered it enough to stoke the flames of her ire.

She still let the toothbrush dangle from her mouth,she could be aristocraticly posh too!

"Hart did you take my toothpaste ?"

Atolini was still on the hunt for her elusive toothpaste and rather then look for it properly she jumped to the next step and assumed foul play.

[Sintih]

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s the gardener left to fetch the duke, Sin and company took in the sights of the well taken care of garden. Near the back of the house, Sin could see the beginnings of the wall that enclosed the duke's private garden. While he had informed his companions about the lay out, only Sin had been inside of it so far. It could provide a useful means of defense in case of an attack but it wouldn't stand against anything more than a few rebels. A simple ladder or a second person giving someone a boost would be enough to overcome the duke's private defenses. When the gardener didn't return immediately, Sintih started to head back to the front so they wouldn't be left outside in case someone did open the door for the two men he had left there.

If possible could you leave any chaos out of this, just for one trial? I would really appreciate it if you could just set your sights on someone else for the next few breaks, father. Sin sent his prayer to Aelig quietly. His worship of the trickster immortal of chaos was a personal matter, even to the company he kept now. They hadn't been together that long so private matters were still considered as such between the six men. While he noted other people around the estate, Sin didn't pay much attention to them anymore as they passed them. "Anything?" Sin asked the large, metal clad man who had been waiting by the door. "No ser, nobody yet." Occasional hand motions accompanied both men's speech as they conversed.

They didn't have to wait too long. Luckily it was still earlier in the morning so the trial was still fresh. The men waited mostly in silence, keeping an eye on their surroundings and on whatever they could see inside of the building. When the door finally did open, the duke himself stood before the six men, dressed in a noble regalia that probably cost more than their combined wages and looking disheveled at best. "Ser." Sintih returned the man's greeting, still not having decided on or been told which title to use. In a very Tristan like fashion, the duke quickly followed up with a chain of questions and greetings before immediately slipping back into himself and questioning Iemes' person.

Sin quickly looked from the Duke to the Qi'ora to see if they'd have a problem on their hands but the mud brown skinned man simply smiled. Iron Hand training at its finest. "I'm a Qi'ora, ser. From Nashaki." The man seemed less taken off guard by the question than some of the other members of the group, Sin included. Perhaps he'd gone through this enough to expect it? "I don't mind you asking." Iemes responded to the duke trying to mitigate his social mistake. They were invited in and the six men stepped into the house, through the large front doors. Sintih kept his thoughts to himself as the duke wondered why they hadn't been greeted by someone. The mentioning of the duke's sister didn't make it easier.

When they stepped in, Sintih noticed another person behind them who followed them in as well. He glanced at the person and was ready to turn his attention back to the duke when he saw the man's face clearly. The widened eyes and the raised eyebrows were clear indications of Sintih's surprise at seeing Tristan standing behind him. He turned his attention forward to the duke and back to the second duke. Twins? A body double? The similarity was uncanny. Sin let his eyes shift back and forth between the duke and the second man, trying to find an indication of who was who. He made a priority note to find out who was who and how he would keep them apart. It wouldn't be a good start if he saved the wrong twin during an assassination attempt.

Once he started speaking, though, the difference became quite clear to Sin. While none of his team would shake the hand of the man who was obviously the duke's brother, there were polite nods or attempts at courteous bows when the second duke spoke to them. Sintih couldn't help but note the twin's interest in the arts. A Venoran thing? Despite the professionalism of some of his team members, the back and forth glances between him and Tristan from most of them would be quite obvious to the duke's twin. "Ser Hart. It is good to meet you this trial." Sintih bowed his head towards the, now identified, twin duke. Sin had to admit that his lack of information on the man was worrisome.

Before he could get into the basic introductions of the other people in his group, the calamity arrived down the staircase. Atolini Venora, sister to Duke Tristan Venora and, apparently, Hart Venora as well. Sin's smile tightened as he grit his teeth. The illusory white eyes of the Eídisi form he had taken remained void of any pleasantness as she spoke to the duke and then turned her attention to him. Her explanation was as transparent as the night gown in which she'd opened the door in earlier but Sin kept his cool. Arguing with the favorite little sister was not a good way to start employment. He did manage to nod in understanding of her explanation.

Once everyone was inside and someone had closed the door, Sin started to introduce his men to the duke and the other two Venorans in the hall. In a normal person's home, they would have moved somewhere spacious enough to fit all nine of them, ten if you included the gardener, but Oakleigh Estate was big enough to fit a normal person's home in the hallway itself so there was no need to relocate beforehand. For Hart's benefit, Sin started with himself in case the duke had forgotten to mention it to the rest of his estate that they'd be coming today. He didn't put it past the man to forget.

"I'm Sintih Rathaan. Former squire of the Iron Hand. The Duke showed great foresight in hiring me as extra security." He bowed his head towards Hart a second time before addressing all three Venoras together. He motioned towards the large, mud brown skinned Qi'ora. "This is Iemes. A former member of the Iron Hand like myself." As before, with anything he said, Sin's hands moved occasionally as he spoke, forming signs as he continued on. He motioned over Iemes shoulder to the young man standing somewhat behind him. "That's Gallien. He's from Oakleigh and knows his way around better than the rest of us combined, including you." He motioned to the disheveled and rough looking slave, obvious from the marking on his right cheek. The man seemed to be quite out of his element in the situation and simple waved his hand at the gathered nobles in front of him.

"Argun Doghar, former arena fighter who recently managed to fight his way out." There was a distinct lack of explanation about who his current owner was, if any. Sintih moved on to the next one, the robed young man. "This is Thetfretr. He used to work for Iron Hand as well, although not as a knight or squire." Before he could properly move on to the last man in the row, Thet's hands moved quickly, obviously aimed for Sintih but visible for all to see, as he motioned a series of shapes and forms. Sin responded with something and the same series was repeated, much slower this time. Sin turned his attention back from the young man to the Venorans, smiling. "He wants you to know that he's deaf and that he would love to teach you some of his language once we get settled in." If any of the Venorans responded, Sin translated the general meaning of their words to signs for the benefit of the young man.

Lastly, Sin motioned towards the last member of his team. The older redheaded man stood a little to the side. Despite his attempt at a proper bow when he was introduced, the man was obviously not someone who found himself often in the presence of nobles. To say he was rough around the edges was quite an understatement. Aukey Navok. Former mercenary and the most experienced member of my team." That they were a ragtag group of people was quite obvious. With two final signs to Thetfretr, Sintih finished his introductions and he turned his attention to the Duke, waiting to see what was planned next, if there even was a plan. At least one apart from wine and cake and everything.

► Show Spoiler

My apologies for the delay in my post. Something came up IRL.

[Tristan Venora]

“Hart!“ Tristan exclaimed as his brother showed up and smiled before he turned around. “May I present my brother to you?” he asked Sintih and his entourage. This time he actually remembered what he had been taught during the etiquette lessons Granny Ebony had made him suffer through – kind of. He forgot to mention that Hart was just his half-brother and a bastard on top of it – because it didn’t matter to him. He loved him as much as any full Venora – perhaps even more so. Some of his relatives were really getting on his nerves.

“You have to show me your sketches sometimes”, he said to Hart. He was just about to show Sintih and his men to the sitting room – which he was very proud of, in his little house in Andaris he hadn’t had a sitting room, there had only been his room, Faith’s room and the kitchen – when his other sibling arrived, carrying a basket full of … were those crossbow bolts? His eyes instantly lit up!

(He didn’t say anything about the toothbrush dangling from her mouth. Apparently such things were a commonplace occurrence in Oakleigh.).

“They are very nice. We should go and shoot something after we are done with this here! I still have a few old sculptures left that we could try them out on! Did I ever tell you how I learned to shoot? There was this guy, Kylar …” He was about to launch into a very detailed explanation of how he had learned to use a crossbow even though he had wanted to learned to fight with a sword when the weird looking guy told him what he was.

“A Qi’ora”, he repeated. “You have to tell me more about your people sometimes!” As they finally entered the house, he briefly pondered if he should claim that Hart was actually the real duke, and they had just been playing a prank on him, but then he decided against it. If he pranked his new guards, they might just decide not to guard him anymore, and then his enemies would come and kill him!

As the introductions were made, the young duke smiled politely. He was about to ask Gallien about his story, but then Thetfretr (he couldn’t even pronounce that name correctly in his thoughts!) started to make those signs, and his interest was instantly piqued. “I would love to learn your language. It could come in really handy one trial!”

“In exchange I could make a painting or a sculpture for you. I need to show you my art when we are done. One of my sculptures was recently exhibited in a gallery in Andaris!”

~~~

The sitting room was very nice, with a fireplace (that was currently not in use) a big table and comfortable looking chairs. Since he remembered his manners this time, Tristan gestured for everybody to take a seat before he did so, and then he had a servant bring the wine and the cake (a very nice and juicy looking chocolate cake). “The Raglans make really good wine”, he informed them. “They own the biggest vineyard in the area.” Having said that, he poured himself a glass, raised it and announced, “To Ilaren!”

He had no idea what to do now – he had never been in such a situation before – so he just looked at Sintih and his men and said, “As you know my appointment is rather controversial. In fact some of my subjects just want me to leave again. They don’t want Rynmere to interfere with their business. On top of that I have the RCA and the Alliance to worry about. That’s why I hired Mister Rathaan. This meeting is supposed to help us get to know each other better – and talk about the security measures we are going to implement, among other things.” He gestured towards the false Eidisi, a sign that he was supposed to say something now – because Tristan had run out of ideas (apart from feeding them so much wine and cake that they stopped caring).

"Atolini, Hart", he added. "Feel free to contribute to the conversation as well. This concerns us all."

[Hart]

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"

A lot was going on and Hart tried his best to keep up with all the introductions.

Most if not all of the men bowed or nodded at him, rather than shake his hand, and Hart, never before treated as a noble, was totally perplexed by their general hesitance. Still, when each man was introduced, Hart made sure to repeat their names, mainly to himself so he might memorize them. "Sintih... Iemes, Gallien, Argun, Thetfretr, Aukey."

For a moment after the first name, Sintih, he seemed to pause, going still as if something had surprised him; when he looked up Hart seemed particularly interested in Sintih as the man and a few of the others, confused by his appearance, glanced between him and Tristan.

"Sintih," he repeated again, and thought of saying something but then, immediately, thought better of it. Instead, as they proceeded deeper into the manor, he said casually, "Interesting name," and left it at that.

But he had taken notice.

Hart had been around Quio --full name Quiome-- for arcs, just over a decade, and though throughout the years Quio had lost his command of the Yludih language, Hart had heard him speak it enough in their youth to remember its particular... ring.

Hearing that sort of ring here was unexpected, to say the least.

But no matter that, for now.

The group was ushered towards the sitting room and Hart once again trailed at the back, though purposefully this time. For the most part he was just trying to keep out of everybody's way, though he was also curious and content to keep an eye on them all, trying to learn these newcomers by how they interacted not only with the nobles but with one another. He was under no illusions that the men were here to protect him, as he didn't really think he warranted protecting; no, the men were here for Tristan, and Atolini, and definitely Ayla as well.

Hart thought of himself as Tristan's brother, sure, but a half-brother, a bastard; he was little more than a modest houseguest, something he was sure the company would pick up on soon. As was befitting for someone of his common stature --and also as was comfortable, as many of the rooms in the Oakleigh estate were entirely too big-- Hart had chosen a room near the servant's quarters. He didn't expect special treatment from anyone, not the servants and not the guards. He didn't have the Venora name. In fact, he smiled thinking that the cat, Mistral, was higher up in the family hierarchy.

And speaking of which, Atolini had asked about her toothpaste.

"Are you sure Mistral hasn't taken it?" Hart asked in response to her question. Mistral, as far as Hart knew, had a habit of collecting things he shouldn't. He also had sharp teeth, claws like razors, and a despicable --if not oddly loveable-- personality. "You might need to think of getting a fresh supply." He shrugged. "If you want you can use mine."

As Tristan eagerly agreed to learn Thetfretr's language --some sort of sign-- Hart also nodded his head. "I'd love to learn it as well." Ever since he had done some alchemy with Tristan Hart had been looking for more opportunities to learn. Learn what it didn't matter-- anything was fine.

Soon enough the small-talk had wrapped up and they moved onto topics of personal security. Tristan was quick to ask his siblings what they thought. Hart was aware that the Duke and at least some of the others had met before. Likely they would have already spoken about similiar topics, and yet...

"I was wondering a couple things," Hart said softly. "Firstly, if there are any magic users amongst you." Magic had been banned from Rynmere not all that long ago, and while Tristan dabbled in alchemy, and Hart was interested in it, he didn't know how mages would be recieved by the household. That was up for the men to report and Tristan to decide.

"And secondly... well, I was wondering if any of you have communicated with, been blessed or cursed by, or otherwise made contact with any immortals; and if so, which ones, when, and for what purpose or reason." He paused. "I know it's a lot to ask of you all, but please remember that mortal enemies may not be the only ones we need watch for." It sounded like such a fantastic claim and yet... they would be able to tell that Hart spoke seriously.

While he had some he favored, U'frek and Ymiden chief among them, Hart was... wary of the gods. Mainly, he was wary of their involvement in Tristan's life. He knew from observation and anecdote that the immortals rarely worked through their own power. Most times, they worked through proxy, which meant they worked through people.

So he was cautious, yes. Hart merely wanted to see what these people in particular thought of the almighty ones.

[Atolini Venora]

Atolini was quick to smile as her brother seemed pleased with her creation, she had to admit he played a big part in her work as she tried to add artistic value to her fletching. This work was not only for style but she figured most out here wouldn't be adorned in plate and bodkin tips made easy work of chain and leather.

"Thank you I'm so glad your pleased, these were made with you in mind. They are lighter and should fly further, and dispatch enemies in chain or leather at a distance might have issues with plate but who is wearing that out here.

Yes that sounds lovely, id love to do some archery. I even brought my bow.

I don't believe I've heard of Kylar."

Atolini quirked a seriously pissed of brow, how dare they treat there half brother Hart like that while they suckle on her brothers Dukeship. They will pay, and suffer, it would be an agony like none other as they wished for sweet release but death would be to good for them and pass them by as they floundered about like fish out of water. Atolini had her ways, she would find sweet vengeance.

"I'm not messing with that Feline, one minute he loves you the next your breakfast. It's true Mistral is roguish enough to do such a thing, but I'm not so bold as too mess with him.

If he took my toothpaste he can have it, I value my life.

Wait, one of you expendables find Mistral and retrieve my toothpaste. I fear the casualties will be exorbent but I'm afraid for my teeth we can all agree that this is what you signed up to do.

What's that word I heard ebony say, oh yes thats it acceptable losses"

She shuddered at the thought, it was true he was an ambush specialist she half suspected him capable of wiping out Sintihs entire party one by one in a game of cat and mouse. He was a scoundrel a loveable hatable feline that offers you love but gives you swift claws instead.

"Hart why are you letting former slaves disrespect you? How many times have we been over this, you have them, the animals then us. See your like way up here, it's rude that they show you less respect then me. Maybe my brother might make you a Baron someday, you are family.

In my eyes your a noble, please act it."

Atolini made elaborate hand gestures trying to illustrate the ladder, and how Mistral was actually above Sintih and his sell swords and former slaves. She had no shame in dogging the hedge knights, after all they were shamelessly disrespecting her family in her home.

She hushed her mouth when Hart asked about mages and immortals and other junk. She was a defier, fickle as the wind and she enjoyed her station. She wasn't going to declare herself as anything, besides no one asked her if she had any special talents.

It was time for payback

"Oh you guys must be familiar with my brothers work as an artist.
Have you seen his sculptures, I think that you should familiarize yourself with his art.
People may try to break in for such legendary treasures.

Don't you think Brother ? Let's show them your studio."

Atolini grinned magnificently as if some machination in her mind had sprung to life. Whatever the noble had in store for Sintih was savage as she laid out her verbal trap.