• Closed • Champagne, Diamonds, and Dancing (Navyri)

[Aegis]

Saun 20, 718

The last several trials had been brutally hot all across the island. Most people were avoiding the outdoors and sunlight as much as possible. Many of the commoners had taken to the waters of Treid's Mouth to cool off. But one merchant in particular had a different idea. He was an Ithecal, and a ruthless business man. But outside of his work, he was a pleasant man. And today was no exception. He decided to open his mansion to the wealthy and influential of Scalvoris. There were no formal invites, no need to make a big elaborate plan. He hired staff, ordered food, drink, and opened his doors.

And so, as the sun began to go down, a pair of well dressed men stood at the polished steel gates of his mansion. They were clearly guards, in formal garb, and anyone with enough experience could tell that not only were they more than capable without weapons, but there were some hidden on their person. The first was tall, broad in shoulders with close cropped hair and well trimmed stubble, with hands the size of a dining plate. He looked as though he could just break a person in half with little effort. His partner on the other hand was blond, long hair tied in a ponytail, with a bright smile and a twinkle in his eyes. He was slender, relaxed, and yet still gave off the air of being the more dangerous of the two.

As each guest approached, the blonde man greeted them. "Hello there, welcome to Elivarn Kylus' home. Please, take this respite from Saun's brutal heat, and enjoy the food, drink, and company to your heart's content. His home is your home." During this time, he and his partner sized up the guests, to determine if they were, in fact, worthy of being here. No one wanted a beggar in a monkey suit at this party. They were also checking for weapons as well. They didn't disarm the guests, simply took note of who was armed, and likely with what. Anyone not up to snuff though was politely turned away.

There were plenty of finely dressed people milling around outside the gates in the road, talking and gossiping and sweating. One man though, was absent of any obvious signs of heat, standing there alone in a finely tailored suit. He was known as the Warden, the man who owned and operated Slags Deep, the prison mine in Egilrun. He was at every gala, ball, party, charity event, and such things. Commoners walked through and around the crowd, and one smaller man tried to slip some fingers into the Warden's pocket, while he was busy conversing with a couple. Those with the right vantage point would see that, without even having to look down, the Warden subtly grasped the man's prying hand, and with a single crunch, which was really an amalgamation of several of the finger bones broken, the pickpocket was thwarted. He didn't cry out, for fear of alerting the guards, but after the Warden released his hand, he ran off, the digits bent and skewed and swollen. The Warden's conversation mates hadn't even noticed anything had happened.

Soon the couple wandered off to enter the mansion, and the Warden was left with wandering eyes, eyes that soon found Navyri's, giving her a slight smile and a short nod. Then he gestured with his head, and no words toward the guards, to ask if she wanted to be his date to the party.

[Navyri]

20th of Saun, 718

The red satin flowed down her body like cool water, light and breathable. She wiggled to allow the dress to settle into place, hugging her curves and allowing freedom for her wings to stretch. The Naer relished the rich material, practically holding her breath as she turned to look in the floor length mirror of her room. She stood, stunned, her reflection more elegant than it had been in seasons and a manicured hand reached out to touch the reflective surface.

This was how she was always supposed to be. This was what had been denied to her for so long, no matter how hard she worked. Navyri turned, continuing her admiration and then paused. Something was missing. Even the prettiest house needed decoration. Reaching out, she pulled the sealed boxes towards her and began to open them one by one. Fives pieces of jewelry. Five statements of gold.

Which one? All of them. Always.

Fussing over her dark waves, she tied them back and into an regal updo, reaching for the livery collar first. It was the heaviest piece, made of thick gold and designed with the most careful hands. With care she lifted it over her head, feeling the new weight as it hung heavy on her shoulders. The gold glistened against the crimson fabric, and she continued her embellishment.

Golden cuffs, golden arm bands, golden earrings… With each movement she made, the sunlight pouring through the window and caught the expensive metal, but she was not done. Not yet.

She opened the last box, breathless.

With reverence, she lifted the dainty circlet, made of winding golden thorns and delicate flowers. Lifting it, she placed it upon her head. A placeholder for the crown she would one day wear.

Was there ever a woman so lovely as her?

Navyri grabbed her tamo daggers and headed towards the door.

It was time to shine for the world.

**************************************************

There was no chance of blending in; not today. Scalvoris might have been a friendlier city to outliers than Etzos, but even here she seemed to burn brighter than those around her. Perhaps it was the rarity of red she had covered herself in, or the show of wealth that clung to her. Maybe it was her wings or refined beauty. Or maybe it was because in the long line of guests awaiting entrance, she was alone.

Navyri stepped forward, feeling the eyes of others roam over her. From her assessment, there was an amalgamation of visitors. Some rich, some poor, some in between. Each talked and whispered, fanning themselves in the hot weather as two well-dressed guardsmen greeted guests. The Naer kept her eyes bouncing between the groups of people, appreciating some outfits and embarrassed by others.

Eavesdropping on more than one conversation, she had discovered a few things - that an Ithecal merchant was throwing the party, and it was supposed to be quite enjoyable. Navyri hoped that was the case, more defensive of her attire than usual. As a thief, she knew just what kind of target she had become.

The couple before her stepped forward. Was she supposed to bring a guest? Navyri frowned. Maybe she could have brought… what was his name? Oooh… something painfully simple… Adam? Adam Micheals! That was it. He had bought her that drink and liked to lavish her with ridiculously cheesy compliments… Ha.

Navyri snorted in derision, amused by the thought. Tonight she didn’t want to babysit. Attention roaming, she spotted someone glancing around and her brows furrowed. What do we have here? He moved subtly and she tried to see what was happening from where she stood. The pickpocket approached a group of individuals chatting and then-

The guards eyed her up and down at the gate. One was large enough to tear trees from the ground whole and the other smiled, but… seemed unsettling in his own right. The smaller of the two spoke first, “Hello there, welcome to Elivarn Kylus' home…”

She met their eyes, quite aware of the daggers strapped to her inner thigh, feigning normalcy, “Hello. Thank you.”

Navyri hesitated, wondering if it was as simple as that and kept moving, glancing back to the pickpocket only to find him frozen in place, his face contorted in agony. She took another step to try and get a better view, spotting his hand being clutched dangerously. She watched silently, eyes following the pickpocket who was rushing off with his hand cradled to his chest, but when she looked back to the finely dressed man, their eyes met.

He smiled and nodded, the motion rather inviting and quite confident in its simplicity. As subtly as she could manage, she returned the gesture, as if she knew who exactly the man was. His suit was perfectly tailored, not a hair out of place. No reason to deny the rich what they wanted. At least they were worth her time.

[Aegis]

Date

The man effortlessly walked. No, he glided over the cobbled stones, his motions the furthest thing from jarring or abrupt. He flowed over them like a slow moving river, silent, effortless, with a wealth of power kept in reserve. He offered a bent arm for Navyria to hold onto as they approached the guards. The guards recognized him instantly, and could be seen shifting slightly in their posture, standing a bit taller, eyes specifically on him and not Navyri. "Welcome Warden, it's a pleasure to have you back. How are things in Egilrun, sir?"

The man chuckled, "Relax, I'm not your boss, nor would I talk to him about you two. Things go well, though we seem to be having a higher intake of... particularly dangerous criminals. We'll need to hire more guards at this rate." He led Navyri past the guards, and as they did, they allowed their eyes to fall upon her stunning form. That dress, in that color, truly flaunted her curves in all the right ways. And those wings added a bit of exotic flavor, despite her not looking like an avriel, half breed or not. Both would be thinking about her tonight while at home with their wives.

As they moved through the finely groomed garden that led to the mansion, a pair of servants approached, handing each of them a paper fan. When it was waved on them, though, the air wasn't just cooling, it was cold. Far colder than was natural. "It seems Elivarn truly is spending the extra nel for this party. Snowcrystals, from Ishallr." He didn't dare to insult her intelligence by telling her to not touch the snowcrystal directly. He was a good judge of character and pegged her to be smarter than the average beauty.

People were milling about in the garden, complete with finely carved marble statues, mostly of beasts and monsters. Though right in the center of the walkway, standing tall and proud, was a statue of the most flawless, white marble, with veins of gold running through it. It was a nude male figure, his physique perfect, beyond that which a mortal could hope to obtain. His eyes were the purest of sapphires, staring directly at a flock of birds upon one of his outstretched arms. Yet, staring long enough at the statue, and it would seem the eyes would change their gaze to the onlooker, and the lips curl up into the slightest hint of a grin.

In his gruff, yet easy flowing voice, the Warden spoke to his date, "It's a shame this statue isn't upon Immortals' Tongue, at His Shrine. Truly one of the few wonders of the island, kept behind walls here. Is the Winged Lord revered in the lands you're from? Not so much here. The Immortals are all equal in the Scalvoran's eyes, or so the saying goes."

While waiting, a servant arrived, offering flutes of iced wine to the pair, along with caviar on toasted bread with an olive. "Elivarn has truly had a profitable winter. His were among the warehouses not disrupted by the collapse in Scalvoris Town. Smart man keeping his wares away from such a... tumultuous town, especially these days."

A portly couple approached them, the man in an expensive yet still hideous green suit, the woman in a matching felt gown. There was a distraught look on the woman's face, "Warden, please... You've had our son for two seasons now. Is there not anything we can do? He's an artist, a painter, not some common criminal. You know we're good for the coin he's worth."

The Warden grinned and turned to Navyri, "My darlin', I introduce the lovely Madame Nortiz, her father ran the finest shipyard. He built the Slit Throat, and The Knife really put that one to use. Her husband here is Gustav Jimenez, the finest pork merchant in this corner of the world map." He gave just enough pause for Navyri to introduce herself if so desired, before he continued, "Their son, Calrein, is a painter, one of particularly fine skill. But the poor boy followed his heart too often, and ended up being arrest because his lover had ties to that damnable cult. I believe he was given three arcs by association."

He flashed a dangerous, playful grin at Navyri now, "But I'm in a fine mood, and in fine company, so I propose something to you now. Using what little has been told to you, should I arrange for the release of this young man? And if so, at what cost to him and his parents? What do you think?" With that, he took a bite of the caviar appetizer that had been given him, and washed it down with the iced one. His teasing eyes never left Navyri, and that same subtle grin that was upon the statue never disappeared from his face.

[Navyri]

⌘ Common ⌘ Rakahi ⌘ Euthic Sign ⌘ Grovokian ⌘

There were so many things to keep her interest, Navyri hardly knew where to look. Bouncing back and forth between her charming companion and the guards, she absorbed the interaction with immense interest in her blue eyes. It was the beginnings of her understanding of this man, fascinated and unsure by his side. It was an unfamiliar feeling, feeling clumsy in comparison to his gliding movements. She had only known one other being to be so…. overwhelming.

A servant approached, offering a paper fan, and Navyri found herself examining the fine piece of craftsmanship as the Warden talked, turning it over in her fan. Something like this cost money - the crystals imported in from a place called Ishallr, “I’ve never been,” she said softly, still admiring the embedded formations, fanning her hand and then her smiling face. The wind from the fan was icy; the handle almost frosted. What a delight on such a hot day, “It might be worth a visit.”

Of course, she’d need a new coat…

She mused over this as the Warden led her deeper into the garden, the Naerikk drawing inspiration for her new outfits from what she saw around her. Scalvoris was always a curiosity- the very few times she had been. Her visits were always short lived, and yet now the the woman was wondering why. Navyri admired the foliage - the lovely flowers and winding plants, absorbing every statue as she tried to imagine facing such beasts in real life. Some looked quite formidable indeed and others were comical in their unusual shapes.

But it didn’t take long.

Her attention was demanded by the marble statue, how could it not be? Perfectly symmetrical, each curvature of muscle carved with divine care. The gold threaded up the entirety of his form, and down his arms. How did this representation compare to the other three she had seen? Always different. Always the same, “Who could make such work?” she whispered, a pit of paranoia gripping her among the awe. She was feeling cautious, just as when she caught a bird watching her in a stream, or felt an unusual breeze on a hot day. She stared at the statue and froze, convinced the sapphire eyes shifted.

Navyri instinctively reached for her hip, expecting to find the brooch he had left her in the Miasma, the same one that had morphed into his face, almost mocking her. She could imagine the statue doing the same, but it was not there. She had left it at her lodgings along with her other gear. But Delroth was watching, Delroth was-

The Warden spoke and suddenly she was back at the party, holding onto the man who wished to know of the Immortal’s approval rating. Navyri looked down at the rich fabric of his suit, felt it beneath her hand. Navyri eyed the stitching, the fit, the glint of his polished shoes, “Of course. Is he not?” She hadn’t even given her name, how did this man know she wasn’t from Scalvoris herself? Was it so impossible to believe or did an accent give her away? Yet, he had simply known. Lands, not land, “In my experience everyone always picks a favorite. So Scalvoran’s can say what they want but actions are a man’s tell.”

Or so the saying goes.

Navyri turned so that the statue only played in her peripheral vision while a servant approached with a snack and some wine to drink, “Thank you.” Navyri might have been selfish, but she she wasn’t completely ungrateful. She unlinked herself from her date, carefully taking each item from the tray, scouring the crowd. Where was the host?

“Smart man keeping his wares away from such a… tumultuous town, especially these days.”

“The reason I left Etzos,” Among others. She was a thief, not a politician, and as tempting as Noth’s paradisiac vision had been, a world without pestilence had horrified her. For it was a world without her, “It was a bit undesirable for my tastes.” The feeling had been mutual.

The Naer was trying to look casual, but she was unsettled, not wholly convinced the walls wouldn’t melt to mist and she’d be back in the Miasma again. She needed to be be careful, she needed to play the game.

“Warden, please…”

Navyri had a cracker of cavier half poised to her mouth, ready to indulge a bit to calm her nerves, when two fellow guests began to approach. Both were quite rotund, neither with a sense of style. The Naer stopped, unsure if the woman was really distraught over her son, or because she must have been boiling in that felt. And it wasn’t doing anything for her frame.

Her date introduced them, and Navyri held out a hand, her painted nails pointed downward in expectation. She nodded pleasantly, as her hand was taken by husband and offered the chastest kiss above her knuckle. His lips didn’t even touch skin and she spoke, “Navyri. A pleasure.” She retracted and rejoined the warden’s side, returning to the crook of his elbow.

Explanation was offered and the shadow woman smiled at the Warden’s own dangerous grin, her piercing gaze dropping upon the two. And a heavy look it was. Many judgments played within those icy irises, taking in the fit of their clothes and the way they carried themselves. Navyri began picking apart each detail she could remember before she took a drink of champagne, watching the two from over the rim, “No, I don’t think a release would change anything.”

There was an audible gasp, both preparing to protest when Navyri looked away, seemingly losing interest “Unless…” she met the eyes of the Madame, voice trailing off, “Something positive could come from this whole ordeal.”

She smirked, honingin on the woman first, “You were introduced by the achievements of your father, which makes me believe you have been coasting on the success of others - your husband, maybe your child. Children?”

She craned her head as if humoring the possibility, looking for the smallest reaction in the wife, “What woman worth her salt has nothing to be proud of? But you married rich, played it safe. You are… content with mediocrity.” Navyri swirled her drink, making that decision based on such ugly attire. It showed wealth, yes but it didn’t show any interesting statement about their personality. Other than bad decisions, “Or is it love?”

Now that was an interesting thought, “I doubt it… one of you always gets their way…” The Madame, from their matching outfits. Hers was more flattering, his less so and Nav gave a small wiggle of her fingers. Neither were particularly attractive, “It strains the relationship, and is the reason your son is such a romantic. Also why he would risk imprisonment for a cause he supposedly,” she stressed this, enjoying the game, “has no interest in.”

The Naer sighed wistfully, “But I do admire your dedication to one another. Rest assured, tragedy begets opportunity. At the freedom of a conspirer, the family should offer their shipyard and its supplies to more capable hands - for the betterment of Scalvoris. Ambition shall save it.”

“Surely, a son, even an innocent one, has no business in butchering or building if he is to stay a painter. Those businesses will die when they do, a terrible waste,” Navyri looked to the Warden, wondering what he thought of her logic. She felt she was missing so much, “They could look upon this as inspiration for betterment. Morally. Financially. A chance to rebuild. After all, it is such a small price to pay for the freedom of their sweet baby boy and a generous gift from a family of loyal citizens. Am I wrong?”

[Aegis]

Date

While Navyri kept her studious eyes on the Jimenez couple, the Warden's eyes were on her. Even while watching the party, he'd been watching her as well. He'd caught the grab for something on her hip that was not there. An interesting reflex. Most would think it was for a weapon, but he could tell it was for something else. Clearly a connection with Delroth, to elicit such a response. He watched how she teased in her words and mannerisms to the terribly dressed couple. The seemingly carefree attitude, and yet, he knew this was the most interesting experience she'd had in a long while.

And her cunning was spot on. He knew everything about these portly people, and Navyri hadn't missed a single beat about them. Even more impressive was the look to the future. Of course their son wouldn't bother with either of the businesses. Once she was finished, "Not a single breath was wasted, nor a single word mistaken. No, my dear, you are most certainly not wrong. And a most interesting proposal, one with which I find myself agreeable. I even know someone who would buy the Nortiz Shipyard right this moment. She might even be here, though I've not yet seen her."

He smiled, not smug, yet with a hint of teasing power behind his dark eyes, "I can have Calrein released and returned to your lovely home before sunrise. I'll even provide comfortable transportation of him, a service we do not typically provide for those released." He took a swig of his champagne, "Assuming you agree to Ms. Navyri's proposal.

The Warden watched as the husband grew shades redder, while the wife turned an even deeper shade of pale white. It was a massive decision, so he decided to sweeten the deal a bit, for his own purposes, "If you let me negotiate on your behalf, I will get you a much nicer selling price than your people would net, for a finder's fee, of course. And you'll keep your pig farms, of course. We can't get rid of those can we?" That last bit was said with an extra teasing on the curls of his smile.

And so, he waited, and looking over the rim of his glass were the eyes of a true predator. A shark in a man's skin. He drained his flute, and let the silence linger, not fidgeting, not yielding in his stare. And eventually, Gustav broke. "Bah. Fine. Do it. Whatever it takes to get my boy back."

The Warden held his flute out for a waiter, "Would you mind so terribly fetchin' me a quill and some ink?"

"Right away sir."

While waiting on the waiter's return, "I must congratulate you, my darlin', for the shrewd deal you helped concoct. I'll show you something special once these formalities are sorted. I do despise paperwork, but it is a necessary evil upon this world I'm afraid." The waiter returned, quill and ink on a silver platter. The Warden plucked a scroll from inside his jacket, and unfurled it. He made a twirl of his index finger, and the water turned his back to the man, keeping the platter within reach. The Warden flattened the scroll against the waiter's back, and began to write upon it.

Prisoner Calrein Jimenez
Released immediately.
Bathed, groomed, fed.
Transport with my personal owl to his home in Almund.
Confirm.

A few trills later, words appeared by themselves underneath. 'Confirmed.'

"Wonderful. Now that this part of the business is sorted, let us return to this lovely party. Do say hello to young Calrein for me, and let me know when he begins to paint again. I'd love to see how his experience in Slags Deep went."

He rolled up the scroll, and slipped it back into his jacket. He grabbed a coin from another pocket within his jacket, a single onyx nel, and set it upon the waiter's tray. The waiter nodded in gratitude and left. The Warden watched as the Jimenezes quickly made their leave, likely to head home and prepare for their son's return. The Warden turned to Navyri with a teasing look in his eye, only to look back toward the mansion, leading her across the garden, Delroth's sapphire eyes following the woman all the while.

The doors to the mansion were excessive, two stories high of Scaltoth Teak with gilded vines poured into the wood. They'd been firmly shut this entire time, but with an embarrassing creak, they began to swing outward. The Warden tsked at this, not impressed by the servants having failed to oil the hinges. As they opened, they revealed the host. He was a middle sized Wyvarnth Ithecal, at six and a half feet tall, dressed in a finely tailor tuxedo, with space for his tail to hang free. Upon his head was a top hat, and a monocle on a good chain rested in front of his eye.

"Welcome to my home, ladies and gentlemen. Please, come in and enjoy my home as if it were your own. There is a band in the ballroom, buffet style dinner in the grand hall. I've opened up my art collection in the east wing, with plenty of new pieces from my latest travels, do stop by to admire them. I have more entertainment for the evening, so please, enjoy yourselves. My home is yours."

With that, he stepped out into the gardens, and greeted each couple as they entered. Warden led the way over to him, and Elivarn was quick to notice Navyri. "My word Warden, just who is this stunning work of art you bring? I dare say you shame me madame, for there is nothing I own that could hope to match your beauty. I am Elivarn Kylus, humble merchant."

The Warden simply grinned, "This, my humble friend, is Navyri, whose wit and insight has just earned quite the boon to my coffers."

Elivarn was bowed for the woman, "Truly my pleasure."

The Ithecal merchant turned to greet the next pair when the Warden interjected, "Is it true you found her Elivarn? The Lost Lady? I've heard the rumors."

Elivarn's eyes narrowed on the Warden, "I did not. I doubt she exists, friend. I've given up trying to find her. Rumors have no place in reality." The man was quick to turn away after that, and began greeting the next guests. The Warden led Navyri up the marble steps, and through the massive doors. This led them into a large foyer, with marbled floors and walls. Two carpeted, dark wooden stairwells clung to the walls leading up to the second floor, with halls heading for either wing. The majority of the guests went forward between the stairs, into the grand hall, with the ballroom on the far side of it. "Well dear, shall we dance? Eat? View his precious art? Or perhaps something a bit more... fun?"

[Navyri]

? Common ? Rakahi ? Euthic Sign ? Grovokian ?

A giant relief lifted from the Naer’s shoulders at finding she was right and she couldn’t help the delighted grin that brightened her face. She beamed, looking at the couple who held mixed expressions. The man was ashamed or enraged, the woman sick. Oh, don’t be like that, Nav wanted to say, ‘You’ll still have money and your boy.’

The Warden pushed the matter, casually, but the tension began to build among the group. Blue eyes bounced back and forth between the parties, her apprehensions returning. Both men stared each other down, a look Navyri knew well. It was a challenge, and as the beat of silence extended, so did the unspoken pressure. At last, the fat man broke, “Bah, fine…”

It was hard to understand the true depth of her actions, changing the course of a prisoner’s life, as well as his family. Navyri’s eyes moved past the couple, looking for who might be the one to buy an entire shipyard immediately. The Merchant Queen?

She had heard the name once or twice, making purchases in town, but what the woman looked like or why she had that name, Navyri did not know. Scalvoris was still such an enigma.

“I always enjoy a good game,” she tried not to fidget as a waiter took the Warden’s orders and for a moment her wings twitched with the promise of opening, but they resettled upon her back, refusing to be displayed. Meanwhile her date began writing, and she tried to offer privacy, but when a word appeared beneath his own script, she blinked.

What was this?

The Warden began to speak and he placed a onyx nel upon the waiter’s tray. Navyri looked away in shock, anxious once more as she was beginning to understand the presence of the man beside her. Had he just tipped that man for simply allowing him to write upon his back? She finished the drink in her hand and unfolded the fan in her other, blowing cold wind upon her cheeks.

Everything moved quickly after that. She was led towards the estate and was soon face to face with the host. Navyri had very little experience with Ithecal but he seemed nice enough. She smiled, offering a small curtsy. That was appropriate right? “Humble or not, you know how to flatter a lady. Thank you.”

The introduction went smoothly, but something struck her as odd. What was the Lost Lady? She initially assumed a ship, but perhaps it was another piece of art, like the statue… They stepped forward with the crowd and Navyri was eager to go into the shade.

"Well dear, shall we dance? Eat? View his precious art? Or perhaps something a bit more... fun?"

“You’re not enjoying yourself? But the party’s just started,” she teased, pulling her eyes from his as she considered her options. Had she been alone, the art work would have drawn her. Valuables to admire, some to aspire to.. appreciate. Somehow this decision seemed harder than the last.

The ballroom might have been the safest option. Eat, schmooze, maybe make some interesting connections. But wouldn’t the Warden be quite a good ally? He seemed like a terrible man to cross. But what did fun really mean? “I want to dance,” she said soundly, glimpsing the edge of a dance floor, “But if you have a better idea, I’m always open to suggestions,” 'Even the cryptic ones.' She held her tongue on that last bit.

Navyri lifted up her hand for him to take, scrutinizing his face in an effort to read his expression, “It’s a terrible insult to be called boring after all. So… Lead the way.”

[Aegis]

Date

The Warden smiled at his date's response, a playfulness in his eyes, "Oh I would never dare insult you as such. Let's go see some sights for now, dear. With everyone still arriving, we still have a break or so before dancing truly gets started." He paused, then chuckled, "Apologies, I just realized that I've been to far too many of these."

He led the way toward the right hand stairwell, stepping upon the lush rug of a bloody crimson color. The wall was adorned with rich tapestries dangling down. Being the central entrance, there were servants stationed above and below the stairs, and their eyes all fell upon Navyri as she neared. And yet, not a single pair of eyes dared to rest upon the Warden. As he crested the stairs, he turned down the right hand hall, passing two more servants who seemed to wish they were anywhere else.

The hallway boasted tall ceilings with smaller crystalline chandeliers every so often. There were doors every so often, with small tables with plants or other decorations atop them. It seemed to be a residential wing. The walls had portraits of the various Pirate Lords from Scalvoris' past. "Remnants of a simpler time, and yet not so long ago. Do you know of the Pirate Lords? They may have had their flaws, but the world was easier under their rule." There was an obvious shift in his demeanor, his smile slipped into a more neutral expression, his eyes looking tired.

He continued onward until he stopped before a painting. It showed a woman with sea touched hair, black as night, eyes hard and cold. She stood upon the deck of The Slit Throat as a hurricane raged around her ship. Her swords dripped blood, bodies were strewn across the deck. Beneath the painting was a small golden plate with The Knife engraved into it. His eyes dipped sadly, lonely, "Martiya."

He then reached down for the door knob, of the door next to the painting, "Shall we?" He gave it a twist, and Navyri would be able to hear the click of the lock preventing access. And yet, with a continued twist the lock gave way with a mild metallic snapping and the door opened up, all in all taking not but a moment. He stepped inside, opening the door wide. It was not a bedroom as one might expect in this wing, it appeared to be a study of sorts, a fairly large one.

There were incredibly detailed maps of eastern Idalos, topographical, military campaigns, coastlines and trade routes, all hanging from the wall, with one laid out upon an ornate lectern. There were several large, filled bookshelves, much of which were concerning sailing, weather, and lore concerning the Pirate Lords. A desk was pushed into one corner, with a variety of scrolls upon it, with all of the indications of a space that was consistently used.

The Warden moved over to the lectern, looking down at it. This map had twenty different courses, with various dates on each, but all branching out from Scalvoris, departure dated as Vhalar 1st, 716. "Interesting..." He turned on heel and faced Navyri with a playful look in his eyes, "Tell me darlin'. What do you think is the most valuable object in this room? And, what object do you think might be most missed by our esteemed host?"

[Navyri]

? Common ? Rakahi ? Euthic Sign ? Grovokian ?

They avoided him - the servants.

Rigid when they walked past, Navyri found it quite curious another man’s help would become so tense to a fellow guest. The Warden had said he was at these sorts of things often, but what would make him unpleasant? Up the stairs and down the hall they walked, the fabric of Navyri’s red dress slithered around the corner and pooled at her feet. They looked up at a painting, a strange scene to find in ones home, and she heard the change in his voice.

Peering at him from the side of her eyes, she crossed her arms, “Not very much,” she admitted, looking at the woman’s face, hair, the way she carried herself in this way. “There were twenty. Made a pact in Scalvoris…” That was about as far as her knowledge went. “She was…hm.” ’Naerikk’. Navyri did not know this confidently, but the features appeared similar to her own mother - dark hair, bold eyes, a lust for blood. She had seen that ruthless look in the gazes of Augiery, could see it in her dreams. The footwork was reminiscent of what she had tried to learn once upon a time, but Navyri was not a sword user. Such memories were barely wisps of nostalgic imagination. Of training in a place as distant as a dream.

Navyri noticed the change of expression; the drop of tone. She glanced at him, but it was gone as fast as it came, his hand reaching for the door knob. She raised a brow at the metallic block, how it groaned in protest and then shattered. He moved without consequence, unfazed and so the the woman stepped forward, relieved to see something other than a bedroom.

The Warden had known where to go, which room to to enter, and had not cared if it was off limits. His idea of fun was getting very interesting. She felt her fingers itch with the need to explore, and she glided around the room, gold tipped nails caressing the walls as she walked. Navyri stopped before the bookcases, reaching out as she read the spines. In the glint of her golden wrist band, she watched him move, look down upon a map.

Was that what he came for?

’Tell me darlin’,

She pulled a book from the shelf, looking over her shoulder in acknowledgement while thinking of his earlier words. What kind of man, a man who must have sway in a city as is, wish for the times of old? Times before “peace”? Unless… he had some ties to those days? “Well, let’s see,” the tome she picked up had been on the pirate lords, and she flipped through it quickly, looking for anything familiar. Martiya, for example.

A number were listed: The Swift. The Gambler. The Kraken. The Butcher. The Boar…. Navyri pressed the open book to her breast and let her attention bounce around, “Hm, the most valuable? My own life. Or, one’s own specifically. After all, mine has cost me a great deal to keep within my possession.”

'And I would spend much more.’

She tried to hide the conflicted look that wanted to take over her features, her knowledge of Immortal championing still uneasy in her mind. She had not one, but two marks upon her skin, both forced and a vying for her soul. Would she… ever be willing to kill an Immortal? To try? Had she not sent Curio away, convinced he was Delroth’s eyes on her, only to end up before a haunting figurine? Escape from his clutches would never be so easy if he wished to break her.

“Not that I believe every life is equal or deserving,” she admitted this with a level look, trying to gauge his opinion, “To say otherwise would be a wicked deception, and when I lie I try to at least make it believable. Anything else is just an insult to the clever.”

Those that refused to help themselves, the eternal victims, the ones willing to roll belly side up to their mortal keepers - what a waste of space! Men who relied on women to feed them, women who valued only arts and crafts to never pick up a sword, what made them deserving enough to share the same breath she did, the one who has crossed oceans and defied odds - lived through nightmares - all while earning her keep in this world?

Navyri valued her own life above… well, everything. Didn’t he feel the same? If it was between him and her, he’d choose himself, no? She often found one did not reach a status like his without selfish decisions, “But you asked two questions.”

The Naer exhaled, pulling the tome from her chest and pressed it closed between her hands. She pushed it back upon the shelf, a bit further than the others and then frowned. Fussing, she adjusted it so that it aligned perfectly with the other spines, not an inch out of place.

Once satisfied, Nav laced her fingers in front of her and glided across the room, craning a neck to look at the map he had found. There was little interest in her eyes at first - it looked like just about anything else. Not a merchant, travel times did not interest her, but perhaps intercepting them could prove quite fruitful…

It seemed like an easy answer - too obvious, but when she opened her mouth, she stopped. Her brows furrowed, an internal puzzle being put together within her mind. She looked down, then at the desk in the corner. Then back to the lectern. Why not just use the desk completely? Why display something that needed to be behind locked doors on a podium of its own?

Trap.

Navyri took a step back, eyes flashing. She realized he had not touched it once, but nothing had happened. No footsteps approached the room, no guards to drag her away… Cautious she pressed her lips in a thin line and observed it closer, cold and analytically.

The lines went to many places, some she knew instantly, others that she had yet to see. She tried to find a pattern and then crossed her arms, counting the routes. She felt that creeping of paranoia, the whispers of warning against the lobe of her ear. The most familiar of all this was the departure date - a date she knew well.

The day the shadows had come - monsters, beasts. She had been in Rhane then, convinced it was the doing of Audrae, ready to drag her back to the depths of the shadow city for punishment, when the city realized it had been a widespread phenomena. Had such horror reached Scalvoris too?

Twenty lines. Twenty pirate lords? Why would an Ithecal have this? Twenty shipments? Twenty rumors? Navyri didn’t understand and felt it best to tread lightly. She met his playful gaze, searching, “Why are you showing me this?”

[Aegis]

Date

The Warden simply smirked at her first answer. He agreed with her, of course. The self was always the most important thing for some people. And for many of his arcs, he was that way as well. She was still so young though. Older than she seemed, but still young. He watched her closely as she read the map, seeing the subtle changes in her face. She knew the date. And it scared her. With good reason, it scared a lot of people around Idalos. When her eyes found his, she would see his curiosity piqued.

He stepped closer to her, eyes never leaving hers, eyes that had seen a thousands of deaths, of friends and foes, had known a thousand lives, full of love and heartbreak. He continued to close the gap to her, gently grasping her hips, pressing her into the lectern, pinning her there. He leaned in close to her lips, a hair's breath away, the aura he gave off no different from an apex predator who'd cornered prey they'd been chasing. Then his lips slipped past her own to her ear, "For fun."

One hand worked behind her, rolling up the map, his other hand cupping her cheek, that hungry look never leaving his eyes. He leaned in a bit more, before pulling back, now holding the map before them. He stepped back a bit. He unbuttoned his jacket, and untucked his shirt. From the ends, using the hand that had been on her face, he tore two strips of long, narrow silk. He then knelt down before her, his eyes still never leaving her own, a man used to getting his way by his mere presence. His rough hands reached under the bottom of her dress, one on either side of her left leg, their touch moving higher and higher, dragging the luxurious fabric with them. High upon her thigh, high enough to feel her heat, he tied the first band of cloth around the rolled map, his eyes never once daring a peak at the expose flesh of her leg. He tied the remain band a bit lower, securing the map to her inner thigh, right in the sweet spot to not hinder her movements, nor reveal it through her clothing.

Standing up, dropping her her dress back in place, he righted his own attire. And offered his arm once more, "How about that dance now? And you can tell me what it is you want from this world. After all, the host will be wanting to speak to you again, and he might grow suspicious if he cannot find you. Unless you'd rather the servants see you return from this corridor alone?"

His eyes and smile indicated that this wasn't a threat, but more of a dare. To see what she would do when presented with this ridiculous situation with a stranger. He pulled open the door, holding it for her, "And you never answered my second question."

Meanwhile, down in the ballroom, things were going just as the Warden had said they might. No dancing had yet begun, as people trickled in, mingling, trying the food from the buffet tables. The band was playing an upbeat diddy, light, and playful. Everyone was chatting, rubbing elbows, giving lies in the form of compliments. At least the ballroom was kept cool by the many servants around the edges with larger versions of the ice fans that had been given out.

But the ballroom was the furthest thing away, as a servant walked past the open door, stopped, and looked in. The moment his eyes found the Warden's, he knew he'd messed up. Quick as a snake, a hand shot out, grabbing the man by the lapel, and yanking him inside, kicking his feet out from under him. The Warden straightened his jacket, and stepped into the hall, looking back, "I'll have a drink waiting for you on the dance floor." And with that, he shut the door, and left, leaving Navyri with the stunned servant, who was on his elbows and knees, looking up at her, in an area she should not be. The man dared not move nor speak, for any woman who was with the Warden must certainly have a reputation of her own on par with his.

The Warden whistled a light tune as he passed the servants once more, and once more, they did their best to pretend he didn't exist. Once back downstairs, he began shaking hands, and greeting acquaintances with a bright smile and a firm handshake. The first waiter he came upon, "Two iced wines. The reserves Elivarn drinks, not the swill he's trying to give away. In the nice crystal." The waiter nodded nervously, and disappeared to fetch the drinks, as the Warden continued his trek to the dance floor, to await his prize.

[Navyri]

? Common ? Rakahi ? Euthic Sign ? Grovokian ?

Google Doc

Navyri was a bold woman but when she lifted her gaze and met his, she hesitated. Moving away as his hands reached for her, her backside smacked into the podium and she was trapped; The Warden’s hands found her hips and held her there, the air thickening between them like a toxic cloud. It stole her breath and stopped her words.

’What are you doing?’

Unlike other men, he was an enigma. Completely out of her comfort zone and a twisted, curious part of her wanted to chase it. To understand it. Who was this man that stole the spine of others and shifted fate as easily as taking breath? The Warden leaned close and teased her, using the same tricks in her own arsenal. He was beating her at her own game! His lips slipped past and his words blew away the fog of brief excitement, plucking the thread of fear.

For fun.

For fun.

Navyri released the breath she had been holding, a tangle of emotions wrestling within her as the room came back in focus and he cupped her cheek, “What a wicked trick,” she breathed, disbelief at her own self soured on her tongue. Laughter, anger, shame - she wasn’t sure which to display. Now was not the time to let teenage hormones take root! She tried to think of something clever to say, a question to ask, but the Naer was out of her element. The Warden untucked his shirt and she felt a wash of relief and curiosity, brows furrowing as he ripped away a strip of silk.

She thought he would do one thing and yet he always did another.

Lowering himself - and she would be lying to say she didn’t enjoy seeing such a powerful figure kneel before her - his grip wrapped around her ankle and began exploring upwards. Red satin was pushed away, higher and higher, revealing dark tendrils of intricate design pierced upon her flesh. A way to keep her whole. To keep her fitting in. From her ankle to her knees, the illusion was displayed, beneath the exploration of calloused fingers and the tickle of rolled parchment... Then he was already to her upper thigh, and she suddenly shifted in hopes to pull away, but he held her in place.

The Warden watched her, but his hands moved knowingly. Beside the newly revealed dagger, above the setting suns and beneath the moons of a city she had never seen, he settled the stolen atlas against her supple skin and tied it into place, “What?” she tried to jest, “No room in your own pockets?”

He let her dress fall back into place, his amusement maddening. And now he wanted to dance! Navyri wasn’t even sure she could step without the silk tie slipping and as a test of her own grace, took a step and tried to gauge if it had fallen in the slightest, “If I dance this will surely come undone,” she was so sure of it! How could it not? While he dared her, she narrowed her eyes and frowned, not sure if she liked his games now, a silhouette at the door catching both of their attention, and yet the Warden was faster.

In the blink of an eye, the man was thrown upon the ground without care and Navyri tensed, looking up to see her companion slipping from the room and shutting the door behind him. So casual while she was left to pick up the pieces of his puzzle. A new tension began to stir and she glared at the new arrival, her gaze cold and hard. Navyri felt the silence between them like a weight upon her shoulders to be carried, and she was a hawk descending on horrified prey. She lunged.

And yet when her hand were as soft as the feathers on her back, “Oh my!” she gasped, allowing all the shock and embarrassment and horror the Warden had beckoned within her to soar across her face, “Are you okay?” Careful of both her dress and the cargo she was carrying, Navyri dropped to eye level, more interested in keeping him focused on her and not any… missing items. She reached out, so very conscious of the map and where it was, fingertips fussing over the lesser being.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, “Such an unnecessary display,” shaking her head, she rested a hand on his shoulder pretending to examine him (the fall was so minor, after all. He was fine!), while her touch slid down his arm and rested there, “You’re not hurt are you? You can be honest with me.”

Everyone knew you attracted more flies with honey than vinegar… but yet again the same thing could be said for corpses… Navyri would wait to make that decision. With a soft smile, almost coy in its delivery, she looked to his face, “What’s your name?”

“L-l-lenny, m-m-m-ma’am. N-n-no, not hurt at all, I just tripped a bit, completely m-m-my fault.”

The man slowly stood himself up, straightening his clothes, his posture subservient, eyes down, shoulders slumped, “Can I get you anything, m-m-ma’am? Only the best for a frie-- a guest.”

“Lenny,” Navyri repeated, feeling the weight of it on her tongue. It wasn’t a powerful moniker by any means. Nothing very distinguished or memorable about it. Still, she feigned interest, tone of voice whimsical as she weaved a lie, “I knew a Lenny once. On a farm with white rabbits...”

The servant straightened himself up, quick to take any blame for being in her presence. Trained well. Very well, “Actually,” He would not meet her eye, and had not every muscle in his body been tensed, she would have tried to soothe him more. But too much physical contact to a scared bird did not help, but gave it reason to panic more. She would have to keep her distance, try and show him she was not the Warden. Navyri clasped her hands together beneath her bust, thinking of her next inquiry.

But how she very much wished she would use this poor man. To answer questions her companion would not, “May I be open with you?” she almost grabbed his arm, but thought better of it and moved to the door, motioning him back to the hallway, “The door was open and I was feeling faint. Collapsing beside the Warden, in front of everyone… Could you imagine? We had to get away, of course.”

Once out into the safety of hallway, she moved the train of her dress to the side and shut the door behind them with a bit of delicacy, “I should go and try to eat something - Oh! What would you recommend?”

The servant nodded as he walked with the woman, a bit more visibly relaxed now that he knew he wasn’t in imminent danger. “Of course ma’am. This door was meant to be locked, but I imagine one of the newer servants was careless. I’ll see to it that it is properly handled, so there’s no mistakes in the future. I do hope you’re feeling better now.” He didn’t have the keys on him, so he’d have to go find them.

The man lit up when he was asked about his food recommendation. It was his passion, and he was hardly ever asked, “Well, the majority of the guests will be clamoring over the stuffed sea bass.But… if you don’t mind me being a bit blunt, it is nothing special, just expensive. It is served at every gathering of this sort to show that it could be afforded. The true delicacy will be the small table off in the northern corner. Chef Bartox from some far off island made a spread that sounds quite off-putting to most, but is most divine. Using rice, raw fish, seaweed, and a few other ingredients, he makes these little, colorful rolls and treats. They melt in your mouth and are truly an exciting experience. He’d come to Scalvoris to spread his new craft, but many are too reticent to give it a go. He calls them Sea Charms, and the variety of types is astounding. And despite what people think, they are safe to eat. Would you like me to show you to them, ma’am?”

“But of course! I’d love to try some, thank you,” Navyri praised, clapping her hands together, more pleased to see things were going smoothly, “Elivarn must be so lucky to have you in his service. With this and all the other beautiful things, you and the rest of the staff must work so tirelessly to make an event like this happen. And the Warden mentioned he comes to these things all the time?”

She tried to remain casual, peering at the man from the corner of her eye to try and see if there had been any change of reaction at the mention of either men, “It simply pains me to see one of you trip…” They were closing down the hallway, and she slowed so not to reach the other guests too fast.

The winged Naer gently slipped her hand into the crook of the man’s arm, holding him in place so that he couldn’t find a reason to rush off, “Do accidents happen often?” she had lowered her voice, smiling to hide the lacing of conspiracy, “Friend to friend-” she used her thumb to stroke his arm and to onlookers, it must have looked as if she offered him another compliment, but it was a warning. An offer of possible, fleeting protection. After all, servants - as overlooked and somewhat pathetic as they were - could be great allies. They saw everything and just like the dinner menu, knew the special secrets, “The front doors need to be oiled. It doesn’t bother me per se, but I’d hate for anyone else to take a tumble. Not after all the effort put in. You’ll be careful for me, won’t you?”

Navyri saw the movement of others at the end of the wing and released him, “It is a party, after all.”

The man might’ve been a servant, but he certainly was no fool. He could see what was happening here, but he also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He didn’t bother to try and pull away from the woman’s commanding touch, “Oh yes, where there’s a party, charity event, dancing, or party, the Warden can be found there, he especially loves to dance. I believe he even attends the Council meetings, such boring things.”

His eyes flashed with derision at Elivarn’s name, but Lenny was a good servant to the end, “Oh, I’m the one who is lucky to be working for him. Outside of the occasional party, there’s not much to do, always away chasing myths. Makes life quite dull when the mansion is empty.”

At her mention of accidents, he saw where this was going, and was eager to be on the good side of such a woman, especially one so ravishing. “Accidents are quite rare ma’am. And yes, you’re correct ma’am, I will be much more careful, for you.” Upon being released, he did not move, not wanting to appear eager to escape her, for he truly wasn’t. But he wasn’t sure about remaining in her presence either. “Enjoy the Sea Charms ma’am. And I’ll see that hinge never squeaks again.” He knew she’d understand his meaning, and with a nod, he disappeared back from where he came, a relieved smile on his face.

Navyri watched him go and then eyed the stairwell, briefly considering what would happen if she didn’t meet the Warden immediately. Lenny’s reaction had not been unusual, but perhaps more open with the disdain for Elivarn than she had expected after his initial stuttering. Navyri suspected he held one man in much higher regard than the other. But her own education on Scalvoris was lacking. She had no idea who or what the council did, but mentally made a note to find out another day. For now, it was safe to assume if the Warden went to every meeting, every schmoozing event, he did it for more than a good time. But what was his motive?

What drove a man who clearly had both money and power? Navyri began her descent down the stairs, hand hovering over the rail as the corners of the map tickled her inner thigh. She didn’t understand. What was he trying to gain?

Once at the bottom, Navyri peered into the ballroom, a bit reserved. She watched the crowds, trying to decide who was the most valuable of the lot. She looked for Elivarn and then the Warden, the later she found sipping wine as if he hadn’t been literally up her skirt just bits before. Still embarrassed by easily disarmed she was in the study, the dark haired woman didn’t want to go to him immediately. Chasing him around all night would just be shameful and she was an independent woman!

Navyri strolled from the foyer casually as a couple was exiting, heading exactly to where Lenny had suggested. Lines by the sea bass were atrocious and she breezed right past them, her red ensemble drawing the eyes of hungry. Giving particular attention was a servant manning the lone table she approached, shock dropping his bottom lip, “Uh-Can, I help you with anything, Miss?”

“Yes,” Navyri examined the brightly colored creations, pleased with the creativity gone into the food. Everything appeared so clean and delicate. Lenny had been telling the truth after all, “A little birdy told me these were simply a must have. May I?” She pointed a golden tipped nail at a small roll, strips of fresh salmon coiled in its center.

“Of course!” the man said, shuffling quickly to put the requested piece upon a folded napkin, “Here, please, try it with some of the sauce,” he handed her the morsel with two hands, holding up a small dish with dark liquid, head bowed in offering.

Navyri took her time, feeling the eyes of others upon her, dipping the roll and appreciating its faint aroma. Then she popped it in her mouth and sucked the tip of her finger, surprised by it’s clean and complex flavor, “Mmm,” she licked her lips, already curious for another, “One plate please.”

As she waited, she fanned herself to bask in the icy wind, arching a brow when he asked which ones she would favor for her palette , “Surprise me, of course.”

Within trills she was given an entire plate of assorted sea charms, dipping sauce, two shucked oysters, a mound of suspicious green, and a slice of lemon. After being given a warning about the green condiment, Navyri stepped away from the corner buffet, pretending not to notice those that lingered and finally followed her lead. One by one they lined up to see what had caught her interest.

But she could stall no longer, and the Naer could not afford to cross the Warden, a Scalvoris elite.

“Is this seat taken?” she set down the plate with a teasing smile, blue eyes spotting the fancy crystal, “Or have you found another to have fun with?” Had he, the Naer wondered if she would feel relieved, but as promised, one of those drinks awaited her. So with polite grace, Navyri rejoined the Warden and his dangerous dance.