Feast

[aestrix]

It is a special day, in the city of Orzammar. For one man, especially. It is a day of celebration for the second son of King Endrin Aeducan. Despite his physical... issues, he's been made Orzammar's newest commander. Tomorrow, there will be quite a lot of bloodshed. But tonight is for Stalas Aeducan. Not only is there a feast in his honor, but Provings, as well. It's his day, one of honor, but also his formal presentation to the heads of houses.

The merchants have even been allowed into the Diamond Quarter, a rare treat they only see on special occasions. They're probably regretting it, by now, after trying to talk to some of the dwarven nobles and tackle their very particular brand of pride, but it's a chance to win over the highest class, instead of hoping they deign to notice the Merchant Caste.

Regardless, today is certainly a day to remember. Possibly for the wrong reasons.

Comments

[aestrix]

"... Oh, my goodness, I'm - sorry, milord!" Then she flees into Bhelen's room with an 'eep.'

[thisvorlunatic]

"Hey - uh, it's okay," he calls after her.

[aestrix]

The door opens a little, and a green eye peeks out at him.

[thisvorlunatic]

Stalas can guess why she'd be there.

He feels... well, awkward, mainly. But also - responsible? Is that the word?

"Hi," he says to the eye. "I'm Stalas. And I'm not the one with a pickaxe up his ass, that's Trian."

[aestrix]

"I-I would never presume," says she of the noble hunters. "Um - milord. Especially about any pickaxes in - anywhere."

[thisvorlunatic]

Stalas snickers. "Sorry. But look - are you okay in there? Did Bhelen just wander off without saying when he'd be back...?"

[aestrix]

"I'm fine, thank you, your highness." The green eye looks down demurely. "Prince Bhelen was called away by your brother, I don't know when he'll be back..."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Oh, boy," Stalas mutters. "Well, if you're fine then I can quit bothering you I guess. Uh - what's your name?"

[aestrix]

"Rica. Rica Brosca."

[thisvorlunatic]

[aestrix]

"... I'm sorry, your highness, if I insulted you -"

[thisvorlunatic]

"No-o," he says. "You didn't. Definitely not. Don't worry about it. Everything is completely fine." He tries a smile.

[aestrix]

Gorim, from behind Stalas, is calling bullshit. Not that he will say it aloud, of course, he'll ask later.

"O-okay, milord," says Rica.

[thisvorlunatic]

Through his brother's bedroom door is definitely not how this conversation should be had, if it should be had at all.

"Well - um - have a nice day," he says, and resumes progress down the hall. Hastily.

[aestrix]

"Y-You too, your highness," she says.

When they are far enough away, Gorim observes, "You just blanched like a fat nug in a den of deep stalkers."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Nobody ever told you my mother's last name, did they."

[aestrix]

"... No, but I am going to take a guess and say it's 'Brosca'?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"You're a sharp one, Gorim."

[aestrix]

"I try, my lord."

[thisvorlunatic]

And that's the end of that line of inquiry. Whew.

[aestrix]

Yup. Thankfully Bhelen was born from another mother, so there is no fear of inbreeding. How lovely.

The duo head to the Provings, but - it seems that there is a brother in the way. Two, technically, but only one is really a problem.

[thisvorlunatic]

Stalas sighs.

"Hi, Trian. Hi, Bhelen. Fancy meeting you out here."

[aestrix]

"Atrast vala, big brother! How surprising to find you out here," says Prince Bhelen.

"Especially since duty requires that you attend our king father's feast today. Have you so little respect for him to disregard his wishes on a day set aside for you?" growls the problematic one.

[thisvorlunatic]

"Duty does require that I attend the feast, and I absolutely will, but duty does not require that I attend the feast right now, so I'm going to see the glory Proving they're holding in my honour first. I thought it would be... appropriate, brother."

Trian is a massive pain, but he can be more or less handled sometimes, if you know how to talk to him and don't let him rile you up too badly.

[aestrix]

"... Perhaps you were right, Bhelen," allows Trian, grudgingly. "When you said our brother was not a useless, skinny, honorless weed."