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]

"Congratulations!" says the proving master, pleased. "Your last opponent, Frandlin Ivo, is as fierce a competitor as we've ever seen. But, it seems, you are fiercer. The ceremonial helm your father commissioned for today's winner goes to you."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Does it?" he says. "But that's hardly fair. My father commissioned that helmet for the best warrior to fight in my honour, didn't he? I'm not so selfish as to steal that prize. Give the helmet to the runner-up, and may the ancestors bless him. He fought very well."

[aestrix]

"The people will remember your honor and generosity for all time." Well, until the next Provings came around, anyway. It's likely that Frandlin Ivo will remember longer, though.

[thisvorlunatic]

Stalas beams, and - reluctantly - changes back into his ceremonial gear before allowing the provided escort to escort him back to the Diamond Quarter.

[aestrix]

Back to the Diamond Quarter!

"Congratulations, by the way," says Gorim.

[thisvorlunatic]

"Thanks," he says brightly. "I'm going to look like I was pounded with mallets tomorrow, but I actually don't feel that bad. I didn't take any solid hits down there. Life is pretty good right now."

[aestrix]

"I'm glad to hear it, my lord. And now, the feast in your honor." He would say something snarky about feasting with vipers, but they're still in public. Best not incite the assassins. Stalas can probably figure out his opinion about it anyway.

[thisvorlunatic]

"Mmhmm," says Stalas. Oh yes. He knows.

[aestrix]

Good, because they are about to enter the room the feast is taking place.

Gorim looks around once they're inside. In an undertone, he informs, "All of the usual suspects. Looks like this will be pretty routine. Good luck, my lord."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Thanks, Gorim."

Then all that's left is - assuming there's no one here he actually wants to talk to: nope, doesn't look like it - to approach the far end of the hall, and greet his father.

[aestrix]

It seems someone is already in a conversation with his father.

"My king, please reconsider. The trade contracts alone could bring great prosperity to our houses," says one foreign-looking dwarf.

His companion adds, "Will we really turn our back on our brothers and a potential force of cheap labor because of a political technicality?"

The king's eyes narrow. "Denial of the traditions of our people does not qualify as a political technicality! There is more to life them monetary gains, my lords Bemot and Meino. The assembly of Kal Sharok will respect the rule of Orzammar, or they will rot and die alone, surrounded by enemies."

"Yes, my king," sights lord Meino.

Stalas's father spots his son and smiles. "But look, we have company to spare us further wrangling. Atrast vala, my son. How fine you look in your grandfather's armor."

[thisvorlunatic]

He's sure he looks like an earthworm playing dressup, but he smiles anyway.

"Thank you, Father."

[aestrix]

"And I hear," says his father, looking amused, "that you were declared champion of the Provings. I suppose you were never one to sit by when something exciting was going on."

[thisvorlunatic]

"You know me," he agrees. "But I felt it would be discourteous to claim the prize myself. I'm being given enough today already."

[aestrix]

The king nods. "Honorable of you. Are you ready to be presented to the heads of noble houses?"

[thisvorlunatic]

"Yes."

[aestrix]

"Very well, let us begin." He raises his voice to address the entire room. "Lords, ladies! Grant me a moment of your time. I introduce to you my second son, Stalas Aeducan! Prospect to be the newest commander of Orzammar. Would any of you like to pose a question to know the prospect better?"

"I, your highness. I would like to know the prospect better," says a lord.

"Lord Dace, head of House Dace, speak."

"Lords, ladies, my question concerns the plight of our wayward kin, the so-called surface caste. What does the commander prospect think is the correct place for these lost souls?" asks lord Dace.

[thisvorlunatic]

"I don't know, Lord Dace," Stalas says with a smile. "I haven't given extensive thought to that particular issue. It seems to me that a little time spent under a ceiling of air is a small thing for a dwarf's fate to turn on. We allow the brave warriors who guard our gates to leave and return without forfeiting their caste, and we have sent forces in the past to aid our honourable friends, the Grey Wardens, without exiling the troops or their commanders. Who's to say that a merchant venture, for example, should not be similarly permissible? After all, we depend on trade with the surface to bring us some of our finest food and clothing. But the ancestors made this rule, and I must assume they had a good reason, even if I don't yet know what it is. Perhaps after tomorrow's battle I'll consult the Shaperate to find out more, and return to you with a better-founded opinion."

[aestrix]

Lord Dace recovers very well, for someone who's had the proverbial rug pulled out from under him. It is not particularly hard to find out about the failed merchant venture that he helped fund, but he's surprised that Stalas is even aware of it at all.

"Thank you, my lord. I am satisfied in my knowledge of the prospect," says Lord Dace.

"Are there any other challenges?" asks the king. Silence. "Then I give you Orzammar's newest commander!"

This is followed by cheering.

[thisvorlunatic]

Stalas does like cheering.

He also likes showing off, and that was a great opportunity to show off. No firm statements that might offend anyone, but a genuine acknowledgment of both sides of the issue and the limits of his own knowledge, and a subtle reference to Lord Dace's ulterior motives that will sound completely innocuous to anyone who doesn't already know about them.

[aestrix]

"Tomorrow," says the king, "our newest commander will lead part of a mission to strike a great blow against the darkspawn. But for today, we will feast, drink, and celebrate! The morning brings battle!"

And now Stalas is free to mingle. Or not, that's up to him.

[thisvorlunatic]

Duty requires him to partake of some feasting, although he avoids the drinking part.

As soon as possible, though, he gets up and prepares to make his escape. The sooner he gets back to his rooms, the sooner he can get out of this tin turd.

[aestrix]

"Stalas!" calls his father, as he leaves. "Since you're departing - find your brother Trian and send him to me."

[thisvorlunatic]

"Yes, Father," he says obediently, concealing a sigh of regret. He certainly can't go talk to Trian wearing improper attire for the occasion.

And where is Trian, anyway? Not at the feast. Neither is Bhelen. Maybe they're in their rooms...? He checks there first.

[aestrix]

Bhelen's room is empty (even of Rica) but Trian's room is not; with Stalas's entry, it now contains all of the sons of King Endrin.

Trian looks at Stalas and says, "So you are a commander now. In name, at least. Shouldn't you be attending our king father?"