(1867-09-05) Unexpected Company
Unexpected Company
Summary: As Alina and Gabriel begin to make plans to return home, a bit of unexpected company arrives leading to a quick lunch.
Date: 1867-09-05
Related: Ostvor Tourney: Awards Ball and other logs concerning the aftermath of the tornado.
Alina  Corvin  Emilia  Gabriel  Tiadora  Vorian  

Noble Tier - Ostvor - Couviere
Right off the lowlands gate to Ostvor is the Noble Tier of the City. The highest level of the city other than the gates that link it to the rest of Couviere goes through one long winding central street that goes down in a curve throughout Ostvor. From the lowlands to the mountains, the city is laid out like a twisted hedge then, a cork and a stopper of a glass bottle that wine flows out of. The nobles of the city live in the highest district as befits their class and their caste. Houses here are prosperous, as the nobles, their personal retinues, and the ruling class of the city and those who are staying with them stay. Large houses made of stone painted with the heraldry of the houses staying within them are common, most of them several stories tall. The ruling nobles of the city have the largest complex in Ostvor…a literal castle, with accompanying keep, nestled on the exact center of the hill, the castle itself the highest point of the city. It is apparent that the castle is directly in line between the only two gates to the city…and that it was fully intentional by design. Small gardens for each of the estates are common, though many of the houses are smaller in comparison to the general richness of the city. The layout of it and a long, curving path towards the mountains means there is less space available for larger houses compared to other large cities of similar richness. This is balanced somewhat by the opulence present. Many of the houses, for their size, are very richly decorated, particularly with stonework and statues around them. Many are also walled off with heavy metal gates separating them.

Recovery and rescue efforts have continued apace on the second day after the storm, though at this point it is more recovery than rescue. Looters had attempted to prise various bits and bobs from the broken houses of the noble tier the previous night, but the Archduke had been wiseenough to rest enough of his men to provide guards wandering the tier overnight.
Not that the l'Saigner manse had needed such. There had been exactly two incidents at the manse rented by the ruling house of Lonnaire.
Both bodies had been added to the rubble, to be "found" the next morning and carted away with the other bodies found (legitimately) there.

Mina is off to the heavily-damaged castle to speak with the Archduke regarding the recovery efforts, leaving Alina in charge at the manse. Many of the men-at-arms were elsewhere assisting where they could int he recovery efforts, but not all.
"We need to leave as soon as we can," Alina is grumbling to Gabriel as she glances across the way at the t'Cordova manse. A ruin, most of those trapped inside had been rescued through the efforts of men from her house and house t'Tremaine working together through the long day to move enough rubble to save those inside. At least… those that could be saved.

Gabriel reaches up and scratches at his chin, eyes narrowing in thought before slowly nodding. "Yes, but not too quickly. Perhaps later tomorrow or early the next morning. Probably best that we continue to be seen helping and contributing to this whole effort." He gestures towards the outside, not meaning anything in particular by it. "Will your mother be ready to leave as well? Or is she going to remain here a while?" Not that he would blame her, considering it was her family.

Vorian and a few of his men are just coming in from another long night's work. After his grueling first night, and the subsequent first day, helping a few of the other Houses fend off looters was almost a welcome relief. There are a few fresh stains on his leather jerkin, oddly dark in contrast to the white stone-powder that coats almost all his body. They seem to be in good spirits.
"Hey, Sir Vorian! Do you know why your first kill's just like your first screw?" One of the other men-at-arms, a young man who might be beautiful if it weren't for the disfiguring scar down the right side of his face, snorts a laugh. "You tell this joke every time." And the young Knight raises a hand tiredly as they turn into the courtyard. "Alright, enough. Go and get some sleep, lads. I want you all back out there in two hours."
Leaving his men as he sees Alina and Gabriel, Vorian makes his way over and clasps his hands behind his back, listening quietly. He doesn't interject, though — his job is to help translate the decisions into reality, not to make the decisions.

Alina leans over and kisses Gabriel's cheek, as if reassuring him she isn't quite about to demand packing everything and leaving at once. "I think Mother is staying a few extra days, at least. As Father's diplomat to the situation." James likely knew about the storm already— his spy network was highly extensive and frighteningly quick— but it was unlikely the Duke of Lonnaire had made anysuch decisions. However, Mina had enough autonomy to make such decisions on her own… and likely enough it would have been what James had wanted in the first place. They might not like each other much, but the Duke and Duchess of Lonnaire worked very complimentary to each other.

"Our place is back home, dealing with the 'bandit' issue. The more we delay, the more they entrench. If the Archduke needs more manpower, he will surely let his fellow Dukes know." Alina sighs. She is uncomfortable in borrowed clothing and wonders how Gabriel can be fine with staying here with his own trunks taken by the storm.

It is what some would call a rather odd visitor to the l'Saigner manse that is shown along, Emilia Cassomir. The young woman dressed within the familiar Huntress leather, that were likely causing a few looks from the Wraiths on duty. The two groups had their history and were not known to be…friends. Drifting into the room behind the servant with the ethereal movements that were common to her. A hand was drifting lazily over the head of the grey tabby feline who lounged smuggly in her arms. A feline that some would quickly recognize a particular cat lord, Rogue.

An unearthly graceful curtsey is dropped respectfully towards Alina and Gabriel,"Lady of Alina, Sir of Grabriel, I hope I am not causing of disruption." The other man..unfamiliar to Emilia does get a respectful incline of her head. "But something of Lord of Lucas' seems to have found of me and I was wishing to see it returned before either of us were of leaving for home." Just a minor shift of her head towards the Cat Lord. "They were of saying you might know where I could find of him?"

Gabriel nods at Vorian as the man approaches, and then turns his attention back to Alina. "Yes, that problem will be dealt with. However, staying another day isn't going to make it insurmountable, and can do much for our standing with the l'Fausts, something that may come in handy when you are Duchess eventually." He shrugs. "If it's just because you want to wear your own clothes again, well, one more day isn't going to kill you. It could be worse, there could be nothing to wear." Smirking, he turns to face the newcomer. "Lady… Emilia is it?" It took him a second to place her from the artistic events that she always seems to win. "I'm afraid I'm not exactly sure where Lucas is. You can give it to my wife though, and she'll make sure to give it to him."

Corvin Fremont is wordless and nearly silent in his approach, not out of any conscious desire to be stealthy, but simply out of a lifetime's worth of training and experience at knowing where to put your feet so it makes the least amount of noise. He moves over beside Gabriel and Alina (the opposite side of Alina from Gabriel…a living picture of the interrelationships there if ever there was one). He studies Emilia a few moments, then smirks a bit, glancing to Alina, "And here I thought Rogue didn't like anyone outside the family." He inclines his head to Emilia though, "Lady Huntress." No contempt to be had, but always that tiny touch of bemusement over…somethingorother.

And quite likely in response to his joke, Rogue moves over to Corvin's feet and bites at his ankle, though thankfully the boots keep any real damage from occurring. Still, it's clear the Cat Lord is mildly offended by Corvin's joke at his expense.

Vorian turns to regard Emilia as well, returning her nod with a sketched bow of his own, filthy and blood-stained though he is. He also nods to Corvin, offering the man a brief smile, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. But he seems in good enough spirits, and unharmed apart from some bandages around his hands. He looks down at the Cat Lord in mild befuddlement.

And then, taking his life in his hands, the young knight crouches down and extends a hand toward the animal, showing his palm first before reaching to pet Rogue atop the head. Well, if he didn't have any serious injuries befoore..

"You useless furrball," Alina says idly to Rogue as Emilia returns her. "Lucas would be distraught if you got left behind in Ostvor, and you know it." The catlord sniffs Vorian's outstretch hand and stretches out her head, demanding further pettings, and begins purring loudly as Alina calls her useless. From the tone Alina uses, its more affectionate than angry— and sounds like a typical "insult" from the heiress to the catlord anyway. Especially from how the feline responds.

Rogue looks up at Emilia and flicks her tail, half-closing her eyes.

The Normont party has been working tirelessly since the start of the storm. Tiadora's guard seems to be reduced by one and the remaining three men look exhausted. The girl herself has been helping clear the rubble from the inn they were staying, showing strength a bit beyond most girls her age; the bulk isn't all fat it seems. She's managed to get into something more practical for the task, a jerkin and trousers in black and red leather taken from her men. It looks almost comical the way she has to lace the garment up for support. It was clearly made for someone with a different kind of build. The long black hair is pulled up in braids so it stays out of her face. She's exhausted and it shows.

"We should check in, rest up, and go back to evacuations," she orders in a weary voice. "Once we get a bit more clear, we can keep looking for Harich. Even if he's…" She blinks and rubs at her eyes. "We'll find him," she concludes. Seeing the others, she raises a hand weakly and goes to join the familiar faces.

Dark eyes do find Corvin well before he actually ends up over by Alina, years worth of training in following and listening to shadows. Not that Emilia's stoic mien gives way to any thought that might be had upon seeing him, nor do her eyes rest upon him long. A casual glance by all rights before she is looking towards Gabriel with a brief nod,"Of aye, it is." She was the lesser known of the Cassomir siblings, undersurprising with Jaren and Raelyn amongst that number.

An incline of Emilia's head is offered in return to Corvin,"Master of Corvin." Simple and stoic, as ever. Emilia does not offer comment upon who Rogue may or may not like, simply giving the cat another stroke along the top of it's head before it does bound down from her arms. As it does seem the same cannot be said for Rogue on that account, with the Cat Lord making that bite upon Corvin's ankles. Now that does cause a small bit of tugging to occur at the corner of Emilia's lips. "I do of think she was of confiedent she would be returned in due of time," this offered to Alina. Even if just when and how long the Cat Lord had been in her care is offered. Especially to see a familiar face amongst the group now approaching the manse. A grace little wave offered in return.

Gabriel glances down at Rogue, sighing. "Damned cat." He mutters under his breath. "A dog would be so much better, and so much more loyal. Plus, they make excellent guards against intruders, but I will not repeat this particular discussion." He makes it seem like it's something he's brought up before. "Fine. If you want me to start making sure that people are ready, I will go and do so. Right now, I'm going to go see how my father is doing. The healers say he'll make a full recovery and it wasn't that bad, but… head wounds are never something to take lightly." He leans over and plants a kiss on Alina's cheek, then nods to Vorian, Corvin and Emilia.

Corvin duly ignores Rogue's antics, not out of any particular dislike, but simply because there is in fact business to attend to. He glances to Alina and notes, "Small Pie is through the gate with the items that needed to be home quickly." Which largely consisted of non-healing Alchemicals and jewelry and such that Alina or Mina didn't plan on wearing. Security or not, the Manse was compromised, and it wouldn't do to have such things falling into looters' hands. Plus he no doubt carried a great deal of information, as well. "Overland transportation for the stay-behind party has been postponed to the Duchess' convenience. Maurice will be staying with her, along with a few juniors."

"With respect, m'lord," Vorian looks up from where he's petting Rogue, locking eyes with Gabriel as he clears his throat, "Could you send my regards to your father, and my best wishes for a speedy recovery?" He looks rather awkward as he speaks. After all, the t'Marens are hardly known for their friendship with the l'Correns. "I, well.. I have the greatest respect for him, after our time in the North." Harumph. Ah, here's a new person approaching. Something to distract from the awkwardness.

Straightening up from Rogue after a final rub, Vorian offers a slow bow toward Tiadora. If he's laughing at her get-up, he doesn't show it, taking in the state of she and her men attentively. He turns and moves over to where his men are still loitering in the area. "Go and fetch a jug of water for the visitors, Talbot. And wake up Fallon, tell him to see if he can assist Lord Gabriel."

Tiadora offers a clutzy curtsey. In pants. "The inn we've been staying in was…" she trails off. No need to say it. "We'll keep working and trying to get any survivors out. I just need ten minutes or so to rest." She gives Vorian a thankful sigh at mention fo a jug. "Yes, please. I've not had anything to eat since the feast."

Alina grimaces. "If there are any survivors left," she mutters as Gabriel heads out to the castle to go check on Duke Cesare. "Most of what's been found this morning, from my understanding, is people that have been crushed to death." The death toll on the noble side was in the dozens, but for the common servants of the houses was at couple of hundred at estimate. She lifts a brow towards the southern ducal daughter. "Not for two days? That's horrible. Marin, Kierstan!" the heir to Lonnaire calls over her shoulder to a pair of maids nearby. "Bring out some lunch to the dining room— whatever is available quickly, no need to do something fancy that takes hours." She looks to the other nobles (and her brother). "If you all care to join?"

Emilia does offer an incline of her head towards Gabriel as he makes to leave,"I am of glad to hear he will be of recovering. I pray it will be of a speedy one." Even if she'd not seen the injured man, she had heard later about it. And the girl knew to well the accord on head wounds, a small bruise existing where she'd taken a goblet to the head. Doing well to not actively listen to what business is discussed over yonder.

To hear Tiadora speak of not having eatten since the feast…two days past, Emilia is giving a shake of her head,"Lady of Tiadora, you need to eat of something! Especially if you have been working all of this time." Moving over towards Tiadora and catching up her friends arm as Emilia looks over towards Alina after that offer for lunch is made,"We would love to join of you." Some may question the setiment coming from a Huntress, but Emilia had stayed in Lonnaire not long past. Looking back to Tiadora,"Come, you need of a rest, and lunch. No of arguements."

"I've gone with nothing for longer," Tia mutters. Anyone who knows her could back that statement up. She nods to her men to follow. "I would be most appreciateive, Lady Alina," she says with a polite but small smile. "It's trying times like this that we must truly band together. Together, we are strong," she says piously.

"The Ladies are right," murmurs Vorian with hypocritical solemnity, given that the man has been practically asleep on his feet at several points in the past few days. He reaches down to pat Rogue again, grinning briefly at the cat, then straightens. "We've not met," he says, to both Tiadora and Emilia, apologetically. "I should've introduced myself sooner. Sir Vorian t'Maren, at your service." Talbot returns bearing a tray with a jug and several cups, looking entirely out-of-place in his role as server. Vorian pours a few cups, offering them to Tiadora and Emilia, his man-at-arms standing there impatiently, shifting from foot to foot. The t'Maren looks over at Alina and admits, gratefully, "I could do with a meal myself, Lady." And a wash.

Ah yes, because clearly people were too stupid to figure out the value of numbers before the One came along. Not that Corvin Fremont voices such a sentiment, even if he tends to think it when that particular platitude comes up. No, he simply remains silent, inclining his head in agreement to Alina's invitation, and waiting for the nobles to precede him to the impromptu lunch banquet.

They make their way inside. The dining room of the manse isn't the cleanest. The windows are broken, though the broken glass has been swept away and a pair of sheets hung over the two gaping holes to keep the dust from outside out as best as possible. The table had been wiped clean and a trio of servants are setting it quickly with plates, goblets, and utensils. Three loaves of dark wheat bread had been places on the table, along with some cold chicken and turkey, and, because it was Alina, as much of the fresh vegetables as they had remaining in the larder as could be found… tomatoes, onions, leafy lettuces and radishes, some carrots and celery. Bottles of oil and vinegar are placed on the table as well. Half of a choklat cake has been brought out for a dessert.

Rogue follows the group in, clearly expecting to be given some of the chicken or turkey. Her brother, Wraith, is already in the dining room sitting on Alina's chair, peering at the turkey expectantly.

With being as close as she is, Emilia does catch that murmur. "I of know, but it is not good for of you to do of that when you are working of hard." Giving Tiadora's arm a small pat, even if that hold is yet had clearly meaning to escort the other Rivanian into the lair of…er..to the impromptu lunch. "No, we have of not. It is of a pleasure, Sir of Vorian," dipping her head to the knight. Her speech having that odd cadence and turn to it, just as her expression rarely moves from a rather stoic looking set. "I am Lady Emilia of Cassomir, and this is Lady Tiadora of Gerrell." Extending the introductoin to her friend…and well social better really.

Before way is made into that dinning room, and even if she does not seem to give active attention to where Corvin, or any of the other guards are at…It is likely Emilia is well aware of them in any given moment. A thing that is certainly true in return. Escorting Tiadora to one of the chairs, after Alina has taken her seat. Or well having noted which Wraith has claimed in her place. And Rogue's expectations are clearly well places, as Emilia will soon enough be slipping the Cat Lord some of both. Maybe that is why the feline likes her?

Tiadora makes another rough dip of a curtsey as she's introduced. "Sir Vorian, I wish it was a better circumstance." She soon falls in with the others and ignores the state of the mess; it's cleaner than most places these days with the chaos outside. She looks at the cat in surprise and asks, "Is it supposed to do that? Is it allowed to do that?" Who can imagine her family letting her have a pet.

Tiadora then realizes there is choklat. She looks instantly better by the very sight of it. "I didn't realize I was this hungry. Work has a way of making other things fade into the background."

Standing behind his seat, waiting for the others to settle, Vorian says, "Something I was told once.. Always eat, drink, and sleep whenever you can. You never know when you'll get the chance again. It's good advice, Lady." Vorian offers a quick grin toward Tiadora, but his attention lingers on Emilia for a longer moment, watching her as she notes the guards. His smile doesn't falter, however, as he continues.

"Cat lords go where they like, as far as I can tell." He eyes Wraith bemusedly, then looks back to Tiadora. "I know what you mean about the work. Ran into a young noble lady yesterday treating the wounded, and I had to send my sergeant to sleep before he dropped a rock on his foot." He eyes that choklat cake himself, but his attention diverts slowly to the cold chicken. And stays there. Unconsciously, he leans slightly forward toward the repast.

"Necessity can allow for a remarkable degree of fortitude for minor discomforts." Corvin notes, waiting even for Vorian to be inside and seated before choosing one for himself. "Best be quiet, Sir Vorian. We wouldn't want the Rivanans to learn of House l'Saigners true feline lieges." He doesn't immediately partake of the repast, though he does take a sip of Alina's wine once it's poured. Because he is that cautious (especially, once again, given the compromised structure of the Manse), and there are a lack of proper food tasters about. He doesn't really think it's likely to be poisoned, but it's not going to be for lack of checking. Still, once everyone else has dished up their first plate, Corvin moves to assemble his own.

"Those two go where they want and do what they want. Cats are notorious for being the sort that do their own thing, and catlords are like little royalty among cats. Larger, more intelligent— they understand what you say, even if they only listen when they feel like it." Alina begins explaining as she lifts Wraith off her chair and deposits him unceremoniously on the floor… to which he immediately jumps back onto the arm of the chair and remains precariously balanced, attention still on the turkey. She takes the the wine Corvin has tasted and takes her own sip of it before fixing herself a salad, giving it a generous amount of the oil and vinegar. "They make Gabriel uncomfortable because they have no intention of listening to anyone, least of all him, and they do whatever they please besides. He'd prefer a pair of warhounds to these useless creatures."

Rogue bats at Emilia's shins, demanding tribute. Wraith paws at the table, as if banging on it to demand turkey being brought to him. At once. They are rather bossy creatures.

"We don't always travel with them, but sometimes for long trips Lucas and I will bring them along. They seem to enjoy the change of pace from time to time. If they were regular cats, they would have likley passed away by now, but Catlords live almost as long as people do."

"Greathawks are similar," Tiadora agrees as she pulls a plate forward, settling it with a bit of everything - the veggies and pieces of both the fowl. She digs in hungrily as she dribbles the oil and vinegar over the greenery. "Attitude, longetivity, the fact they understand you but choose to pretend they don't. I am willing to wager my brother's bird is jealous of the fact Symon's married and doesn't spend as much time with him anymore."

There is a mild tug at the corners of Emilia's lips at Tiadora's surprise regarding the behavior of Wraith. Silently taking to her seat as the others do well in covering Tiadora's questions. Seeing to her own plate, no one thing seeming to draw her attention over another. Though there is a bit of extra chicken and turkey taken. Pieces of which end up offered to Rogue in way of tribute (as demanded) as she notes to Corvin,"I dare of say, Master of Corvin, some have already learned of that secret. And perhaps they are of why we missed you at the archery of contest this tournament." Only moving to eat some once the Cat Lord has accepted the offering, out of respect for the little beast perhaps?

"You may of noticed a grey of feline that sometimes is with Sir Leander, that is of his Cat Lord Fritti." Emilia cants her head a little bit,"I have heard that of Greathawks, though I do not of think they get to pick of their owners as Cat Lords of do." Another piece of tribute going to Rogue as there is another tap on them.

"You're right, Master Fremont, of course you're right. Been here barely a minute and I'm already betraying the House's secrets. I do beg your pardon." Vorian grins down-table to Corvin as he cuts himself off a hunk of bread and a very, very, generous portion of the turkey Wraith's been eyeballing. It seems the Catlord is going to have a bit of competition.

Some water, as well, though he drains his goblet with a thirst that is a little less than polite. He pours himself another, from the jug, before taking a bite out of his makeshift sandwich. "Ahh.." A quiet sigh out, his eyes closing. "That is good." Glancing over to Emilia, he says "Leander Giraldi? I remember seeing him in the melees. His brother Raimond and I met more than once, mostly to my chagrin. Skilled man."

"Truth be told, Lady Huntress, the prize in the Archery contest held no real appeal for me." Corvin replies to Emilia's comment, before adding a heartbeat later, in a comically subdued tone, "And Wraith said I couldn't go." He makes as though hiding that comment by stuffing his face with a piece of bread layered with some chicken. Though once that's thoroughly consumed he returns, "Giraldi…Giraldi. Why does that sound familiar?" Corvin glances to Alina, "Is that the fellow that fought Lucas to a bloody standstill in the bareknuckle contest a few tourneys back?"

Alina nods. "I've wanted a greathawk, but I'm afraid Wraith might get jealous and kill it. And Lady Emilia is right. Greathawks and warhounds bond with their human companion, but that's at the choosing of the human… picking a hatching or a pup and and training it. Catlords…" Alina shrugs. "These two followed Lucas and I home one day when we were children. And took up residence in the castle as if they had been born there. They pick their own people, and the people have little say in the matter. I've heard even if you abuse a Catlord, once one has picked you he won't leave, but if you abuse him he'll do you ten times worse when you least expect it." Sighing, she reaches for the turkey and carves off a small chunk, which she places on the end of the chair arm. Wraith begins setting to it with gusto, occasionally letting out mrewls of delight to punctuate the human conversation.

To her brother, she replies, "I think so. Southern house. Used to be Pacittan… remember old Councilman Giraldi?"

"I cannot of say there was much of appeal to it, but it would not do to simply of let mine sister walk away with all of the prizes as she is want to do some of times." The corners of Emilia's lips just briefly tug upwards,"But it is understandable that one would not wish to counter-of-mand Wraith." She nods slightly to Alina,"I have heard as of well, that they rarely take to of others, once they have chosen." Emilia gives a slight incline of her head towards Vorian,"Of aye, Sir Leander of Giraldi. He was doing of better this of tournament from what I of saw. But of aye, Sir of Raimond has proven himself to be quite of skilled and is of a contender for this of years circiut. You did of well considering, as I do not of recall having seen you compete before." With her brothers, Emilia has been to a lot of tournaments. Proof of point as she adds later after Corvin and Alina,"Of aye, he is of the one. It was at the tournament in of Pattica."

Tiadora eats. She has little to contribute now and is quite hungry. She does toss an experimental scrap of turkey at Wraith's direction in offering and greeting.

Upon finishing the first chunk of turkey offered, Wraith begins banging on the table for another. Which is promptly provided by Tiadora.

Vorian snorts at Corvin's sotto voce commentary, giving the man a crooked grin. He takes another bite of his sandwich. Swallowing, he looks over at Emilia. "No, Lady Emilia, you wouldn't have. I'm green as grass, when it comes to the tourney circuit. This was my first." The t'Maren grins again and takes a swig of water, rolling his shoulders briefly. "He hit hard, I can remember. I thought I might've had him, a few times, but no. Slippery." The words are genial enough, though he's speaking of his own defeat. "I hope he and his brother came through the storm safely enough?"

"Ah right. Those Giraldis." Councillor Armand Giraldi would've died when Corvin was still a child, but the l'Saigner are closely aligned enough with Pacitta to keep up with the history. He looks back to Emilia and chuckles, "Your sister is an excellent archer, though I do believe you've won at least once, haven't you? And didn't your goodbrother challenge the Viscountess t'Corbeau for the finals of the bareknuckle competition? Seems there's no end to you family's talents." At Vorian's query, though, Corvin gives a shrug, "Not sure. Though I haven't heard their names coming up in discussions of the dead, so I'd be inclined to assume so."

"I am sure the storm didn't affect them. They're stronger than some wind and tumbling rock," Tiadora says politely as she takes a much needed drink of the water. "The Cassomir family is very talented, even those married in to it," she says of Stephen. She smiles over at her friend. "Lady Emelia and I are also always closely matched in the painting contests, though her work wins of more judges as mine is usually religious in nature."

Alina frowns. "Gabriel and Mother have both been up to the castle a couple of times since the storm," she says. "And of the nobles that have been mentioned as injured or dead, I haven't heard the name Giraldi come up. So likely they are fine." She gives the catlord at her elbow a Look before giving him more turkey.

"You did quite of well for it being of your first, a testament to of the skill you must have off of the field." Taking a sip of her water before she does ask Vorian,"Will you be of competing of again in the future, or have you gotten of your taste of tournaments in of this one?" Emilia was aware not all particularly cared for the pagentry involved. "I believe I saw of them in the crowd leaving the Great hall before of me," being one of the last out….and not through the broken wall,"but I have not heard anything specifically of their safety." No news was good news.

Emilia inclines her head slightly to Covrin, confirming,"I of have." How many she does not number. "Of aye, Stephen did of give her a challenge in of the finals. As my own of loses were to he and Viscountess of t'Corbeau, I found the finals quite of interesting. And did not feel to of bad about my loss." Giving a bit of a corner tugging smile thing to Tiadora,"But as Tiadora has of noted, I seem to be most suited with mine-painting. The judges did seem most of torn over who to name, once of again. You do very good of work, Tiadora. " Leaning to give Rogue another bit of meat, the Catlord does seem to have a good source…or her well trained. Noting perhaps a touch more softly to Tiadora,"Raelyn has even been of saying, you are I are of like Jaren and Sir of Gabriel but of amongst of the artists."

"Good to hear," admits Vorian, looking from one person to the next. "Felt like I got along with the fellow. When we weren't walloping each other as best we could, of course." He finishes his sandwich and leans forward, cutting himself a hearty helping of chicken. More bread, more water, as well. "Oh, I expect I'll ride again, Lady Emilia. I'm no tourney hero like some, but it was.. mostly enjoyable. Bit odd, is all. New rules to learn and so forth."

He looks puzzled briefly, listening to Emilia and Tiadora, then nods after a moment. "I missed the artwork," he says apologetically. "I think I was busy trying to put my bruises back together."

Tiadora giggles a little at Emi's comment. "Well, I had little to do with my time as a girl except work on my scribe's tasks or painting, and I've found myself with plenty more in these current days. I'm going to beat you -some- day, I'm sure." She smiles at the pair of catlords curiously as they seem to be eating just as much as she is at this point.

"Get used to it. From what I understand the Circuit tweaks their rules frequently, but certainly every year there seem to be changes." Corvin chuckles towards Vorian, "That's why I stick to simple things like Archery. Less to worry about there…hit the target, or don't." He shrugs, gobbling a few of the veggies and washing it down with some water, "I will admit, I was somewhat surprised to see so few of the Rivanan entourages in the lines for the Faegate this morning. I would've imagined many would have been seeking to get out of here as soon as possible, all things considered."

"It is of true, the rules of tournament are much of different then of practice or true of engagement, even if the bruises and of injuries are of no less real," Emilia forking at few vegetables as Rogue seems to be getting her share of the poultry. "I shall be of sure to watch for you at future of tournaments then."

The corners of her lips tug up briefly as what does amount to a smile for the young woman as she looks to Vorian,"It is the case with of many, the of art and craftsmanships pieces do not have quite of the draw for many, and many knights are taking of the time to rest." Turning towards Tiadora,"I do fully of expect you to of beat of me, I have in of truth been surprised they have not of placed you over of me several of times now. But that does not of mean I am going to slack off in of my pieces and make it easy for you." Another of those odd smiles for her friend.

"I of imagine some were in of a hurry to of depart, where as of others delayed to give what of aid they could. Much like your own of countryman have sought to do." Emilia moving to take a sip of her water,"It seems of a more productive thing to of help rather then of stand in of an endless line." Taking that sip before she adds with a look,"Be of sides, Rogue said I could not of leave yet."

"Isn't the whole point of the Circuit games to encourage cooperation and brotherhood between the nations of the Edge?" Tiadora looks mildly puzzled. "It's not all about fancy balls and amazing prizes, but communication and clarity and truly taking the words of the Church and making them real. We are stronger, together. I would look down on someone who left without -trying- to help, to be honest. Unless they had pressing family issues or needed to recover from their own wounds."

Vorian tilts his head slightly as he considers, looking between one person and another. "There was a Rivanian working beside me yesterday, for a good piece of time. I think he went off somewhere else to continue on. I suppose nobody felt it was right to just leave." A beat. "And besides, I cannot be the only one who'll take any excuse to avoid Gate sickness for another few days."

"I'll try not to embarrass myself with you watching, Lady," he says, returning to the topic of tourneys and giving Emilia a quick grin. "And I'll make the art show next time, certainly. Of course, someone will have to explain what it all means to me." An apologetic look toward Tiadora as he continues, "I'm.. not so handy with symbolism and the like."

"Or with rules," he admits, grinning at Corvin. "Might be I ought to just stick to the melee. Seems a simple enough concept."

"I don't know so much about the tourneys promoting brotherhood and cooperation as an excuse for Knights who aren't at war to pretend to fight one another." Corvin shrugs, smirking just a bit, "But I'm hardly the one to talk to when it comes to discussing the business of Knights."As long as you remember your courtesies." Corvin notes with a tone as dry as an Alhazredi desert, earning a dark look from Alina that he pretends to ignore. "And speaking of courtesies, I had best excuse myself for now, as Maurice over there looks to be trying to gain my attention and my beloved sister is staring daggers at my back." He rises to his feet and offers a bow, "Until later, Lords and Ladies." And with that he moves to join one of the other Wraiths who's just entered on the far side of the room, beginning to converse in hushed tones with him as they walk out.

"You may well of enjoy looking over the craftmenship that is put of on display, more then of the artwork, as I have seen some rather of fine daggers and armor entered in of their division. And there are some of fine and entertaining of performances as of well." Emilia adding after a moment,"But many of the artist are of pleased to talk about of their of pieces, or answer of questions about of them. So anything you do not of understand can be of explained, if of wished."

Emilia inclines her head towards Corvin even as she looks towards Tiadora,"It is often more the truth of the reason behind of tournaments. Even if such of promotion of brotherhood and of cooperation may be pushed in of these times." Something about the new push for lasting peace. "I of fear, there may be many who you will looking down upon then, Tiadora. There are those who of yet remain but do not of help, as they of wait for an opening to of leave." The irony of it all not lost on Emilia, for many left as soon as possible, even before the banquet, for the history and bad blood that still existed between some Houses….and she knew her sister was not going to be pleased to hear who she'd shared a meal with. Not. One. Bit. "A pleasure as of always, Master of Corvin," Emilia giving an incline of her head to the Wraith as he departs.

Oh, bugger. Vorian's left as the sole host at the table, which means that he had better figure out how to be polite and winsome. He watches Corvin depart with a briefly sullen attitude, masking some level of discomfort as he looks back to the table. Oh, right. There's more chicken. And there's still that choklat cake sitting out there. He clears his throat.

"May I.. Offer either of you more wine? Water?" He's trying, but dinner parties are just not the poor guy's forte. And it doesn't help that he's downright filthy. "Uh. Some more food?" He does cut off more hunks of turkey and chicken, laying them on a plate and setting them between Emilia and Tiadora.

Tiadora eyes the cake for a moment, trying not to be rude. "Ah, the food is wonderful, thank you. And I really needed the water." No mention of it. "It's, ah, well… I hope he's not mad at me. He seemed a bit iffy. I don't always know how to be diplomatic when it comes to matters of honor, at least, that I feel are important." See, not a single request for cake.

"Water is of fine, Sir," answers Emilia easily. Not seeming at all put out to be left with him, or that he's filthy. But she has looked worse before. Much worse. With more turkey…well Rogue gets another sliver, even if the Cat Lord does seem to be slowing down now. Giving a small shake of her head to Tiadora,"I of assure you, he is not mad at you." Her gaze drifting slightly between the two,"And I am of sure, given of the circumstances, it would be will of understood if there was a small or minor of lapse in of a courtsey or of honor."

"I don't know the man well, but I agree with Lady Emilia here. I don't think he's angry with anyone. But he has had a trying few days. He and several of the servants had to be dug out yesterday." Vorian pours Emilia's water, and tops off Tiadora's goblet as well. And then, finally, he looks to the cake. Three smaller plates are grabbed and, wordlessly, he cuts three thick slices. They're served out carefully, the thickest going to the woman who hasn't eaten in two days. He grins briefly at Tiadora as he sits. "I suspect he's simply been called out for another job. I'll be getting back to it myself, soon enough. Just need to get these bandages changed." He nods down at his hands.

Tiadora looks grateful. Cake. After two days of hard labor and voluntary skipping of meals, she is hardly the most decorous about enjoying it. "I'll be back to the digging afterwards too. One of my men was at the inn when the storm hit, we've yet to find him. I can only pray he's still alive under there, One be kind. If not, we have a body to take home for proper burial amongst his ancestors."

"And he is just being of..well, Master of Corvin." Emilia giving a half shrug. The cake is accepted with ease, not a word said about Tiadora getting the biggest piece. Cause she had seen how her firned eyed that cake when they first arrived. "And I should likely be of returning of soon myself, my sister will of wonder what is taking me so of long." Looking towards Tiadora, her hand reaching and giving her friend's arm a light squeeze,"He and his family will of appreciate all of the efforts." Whether he is found dead or alive.

Dead, most likely. And if not dead, wishing he was. Vorian doesn't say that, though. He simply looks at Tiadora for a moment, then smiles, taking a bite of his slice of the cake. "As Lady Emilia says, it's the right thing. I'd never stop looking for one of my lads, not ever." Absently reaching to comb a hand through his beard, disturbing some crumbs and a tiny scrap of chicken, he adds "Point of fact, you want, I can send over Fallon and Taggett. Two of my strongest fellows, and I had them take a nap earlier, so they should be rested. Don't mind Fallon's ways.. he's a bit familiar, but he's earned the right."

Looking torn between accepting the help and wanting to handle it 'internally, Tiadora settles on a smile and a thankful nod. "He may not be alone under the rubble so getting it clear would also be helpful for anyone else trapped inside. And my men are just as tired as I am, though I made sure they ate something."

"There are a few folks I can send as well, getting the work seen to sooner would be better for all." OFffers Emilia softly. "I'll go see ta that, as well as seeing to some extra food being sent over for your men." Incining her head towards Vorian,"It was ood to be of meeting you, Sir. And I shall look to see you in the tournaments in the future."

Rising briefly, Vorian offers a bow toward Emilia, smiling slowly. "I shall endeavour not to embarrass myself, as I said, Lady. Thank you for coming to visit, and for returning Rogue. I'm sure Lord Lucas will be pleased to have his friend back." His smile turns briefly crooked. Turning to Tiadora, he says with another bow, "Perhaps it'd be best if I went and put the boot to Fallon and get him moving. My other men ought to be rested and fed by now as well, so I can send them over to a few of the other Houses, and I'll join in at the Inn myself."

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