Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 25, 2013 0:50:27 GMT -5
The High Command castle loomed over Noxus, a magnificent testament to the capacity of architects and craftsmen in a country where the strong survive, the best thrive, and mediocrity is left by the wayside. A drive wound up the mountain towards the black pinnacle, lined by pristinely trimmed hedges and iron lampposts. The winter sun settled slowly behind the hillscape, washing the western side of the mountain orange, casting heavy shadows upon the city below.
Ironclad guards drew open the gate for the approaching carriages. The grounds lay perfectly tended, everything in its right place. Upon the marble landing, servants stood at attention, waiting to receive their distinguished guests. As the first carriage approached, as its passengers descended, they bowed low, pushed open the ornately carved doors and escorted their company inside.
The ceiling of the entry hall stretched up farther than the eye could see, farther than the dim candlelight of the cavernous castle penetrated. Here and there, twisting stairways led up and down to the various floors, but the servants escorted their guests straight back--into the heart of the palace. "Welcome to Darkbourne Hold. The Grand General is pleased to receive you. Please follow."
Back, back, back the hallway ran, past stately portraits of war-heroes, perfect marble busts, heavily laden bookshelves... Finally, the servants drew open a door through which wafted the savory smells of supper. Indeed, inside more servants bustled about, setting piping hot food and bottles of drink upon the table: creamy mashed potatoes, tureens of buttered peas, stuffed quails, fresh bread, a whole roasted pig, a selection of aged wines and liquors. A veritable feast lay spread before them. Servants turned from their tasks as their guests entered, bowing low. The appropriate chairs were politely drawn out for those present.
A young woman, clad in the modest attire of a state-owned maid, stepped forward, bowed low, her gaze respectfully trained upon the carpet. "The Grand General will be with you shortly. He bids us apologize that he was unable to receive you himself." She waited until the guests were comfortably seated before indicating the collection of alcohol. "May I fill your drinks?"
Post by Chairman Magnus Dunderson on Feb 25, 2013 23:12:35 GMT -5
Magnus wasn’t a man that got out of Zaun often…or even out of his own home to say the truth. Getting called to a banquet with the grand general of Noxus wasn’t something he couldn’t reject…even if he wanted. He looked outside the car as the intimidating structure of the High Command castle got closer and closer from the horizon he felt even smaller than used to. He knew it was now even more aware than usual that he was only a puppet…a piece in a game of power but never the least he found a little bit of resolve on his spineless person, even if he was going to sell his soul to anyone for Zaun he wouldn’t ever sell Zaun to anyone. He was a puppet…yes but not a easily disposed one if they were going to make amendments that created the future of Zaun he would do whatever was in his limited power to try to till the baance to future were no Zaunite should suffer more than necessary. Before he noticed it he was in front the gates of the castle he got out of the car on a clumsy way carent of all grace and accommodated his mask. He approximated the gates of the castle alone like had always been like will always be. He felt butterflies in his stomach while walking the halls of the grim castle even when he was guided by the Ironclad guards of Noxus then he saw a beautiful creature dresses with the typical attire of a Noxian maid. The sight of such beautiful presence warmed his heart and calmed his mind if even a little. "The Grand General will be with you shortly. He bids us apologize that he was unable to receive you himself." “Don’t worry I will take my seat.” He said he was the first to arrive even though The chemist of Zaun was currently in Noxus.
Post by Girard Laurentine III on Feb 26, 2013 0:20:36 GMT -5
Girard was not a man to be late to any event, especially when the event was a matter of great political importance to his city-state. When his personal carriage passed through the gates of Darkbourne Hold, his face drew into a frown. Judging by the motorcar in the drive, one of the Zaunite representatives was already inside, and the supper might already have begun. That would most certainly not do.
As his carriage pulled up to the marble landing, Girard decided to forego the small stair between the carriage's floor and the ground in favor of a more direct hop downwards. He straightened his topcoat, and made sure he appeared perfectly presentable before carrying on into Darkbourne Hold itself at a quick pace. He nodded a short greeting towards the bowed servants as he passed by them, while one of them broke ranks from the others to lead him into the castle and guide him to the dining hall.
"Welcome to Darkbourne Hold, General Laurentine. The grand General is pleased to receive you. Please, follow me..." The servant led Girard down an exceedingly long hallway, adorned with various items of aesthetic importance: Some portraits, shelves crammed full with books, a potted plant here or there, and a length of hallway dedicated to hosting alcoves with busts of famous Noxians of the past and present, including ones of himself, the other High Command Generals, and the Grand General Himself. A smirk alighted upon Girard's face as he passed Swain's bust; The Grand General's representation almost seemed incomplete without his famous pet raven perched upon his shoulder.
Finally, the servant led him to the Grand General's dining hall, opening a door to reveal a whole world of bustling servants and enticing smells. Looking over the array of succulent dishes was more than enough to whet any man's appetite, but it seemed that it was not yet time to begin the feast in proper. Looking out over the table, Girard noticed that the only other person in the room, beside the staff, was the Zaunite Chairman himself. A brief sigh of relief escaped Girard's lips in the form of a puff of steam, formed by the cold aura that was an inescapable result of his magical abilities. It seemed he was not late after all.
Another servant, this one a young woman, approached Girard and greeted him with a bow. "The Grand General will be with you shortly. He bids us apologize that he was unable to receive you himself." "That's quite alright." Girard replied, and moved to take his seat at the table. When the maid returned to ask him what he would like to drink, Girard thought a moment. "I would like some wine, preferably something that is better served cold." He replied., sending the maid off to fetch a bottle of white wine fill his glass. Girard tasted the wine..."A good choice." he complimented the maid before turning to the Zaunite present at the table. "Welcome to Darkbourne Hold, Chairman Dunderson. I trust the journey was not too uncomfortable...?"
The journey had not been easy, nor had it been pleasant, but the important thing was that the Machine Herald had arrived just in time. It had been rather surprising, to him, to have received such a summons with little to no reason. Viktor was no politician, nor did he care for such things, so it went without saying that he was utterly bemused by the prospect that had been offered him. Even more so, as he had not given any clear indication to anyone whether or not he was able to ingest things as a human could. The answer was yes, he could do so, but he didn't require sustenance as significantly as, say, a normal human man of his age.
"Welcome to Darkbourne Hold, Machine Herald. The Grand General is pleased to receive you. Please follow."
The maid seemed to have been expecting him, as was Swain, though Viktor said nothing as he was led through a myriad of hallways and corridors to wherever this supposed dinner would be taking place. He didn't really care for grand feasts, unsurprisingly enough, and saw such extravagant events to be highly tedious. Viktor had never been the type to know the meaning of amusement and indulgence, as everything he had ever gained he had had to work hard to earn of his own accord. His upbringing hadn't been lavish in any sense, and he had seen his own fair amount of struggle to get to where he was today.
So it needed no elaboration that he was not exactly dressed for such a prestigious evening, as he was adorned in the usual fabrics and materials that he was often seen in on the Fields of Justice. And it might be surprising to others to find the Machine Herald, one who speaks so oft of change, adamantly against altering his own appearance. Then again, Viktor never showed any concern about his image, even repeating that he preferred function over form, so it went without saying. Eventually he was brought to a generous chamber whereupon a number of servants were hard at work laying out the spread that was to be devoured by the guests of the evening, and still Viktor remained silent as he took his seat. That was when a rather modest-looking aid appeared to address the attendees...
"The Grand General will be with you shortly. He bids us apologize that he was unable to receive you himself."
When asked if she could fill their drinks, the Herald merely folded his arms across his chest and said nothing. His gaze was fixed upon the head of the table, where he was quite certain their host would gracefully seat himself so as to be able to gaze upon the entire congregation that would be upon him. Viktor didn't have any need, nor desire, to partake in any of the cuisine that was put before them, nor did he have any fondness for alcoholic beverages - even before his self-augmentation he disapproved of liquor and wouldn't touch it himself, though he didn't mind others indulging in it around him.
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 26, 2013 19:02:54 GMT -5
The rented carriage approximated the Darkbourne as the horses pulled it. Singed wasn’t paying much attention to the trip truth to be told he was admiring the magnificent specimen that he had procure for himself. Not just the body but her mind was rather endearing…no he needed to put attention to all that happened in the dinner. The carriage stopped ant the entrance of the castle he descended the carriage and assisted Vermillion to do the same. “…Welcome to Darkbourne Hold. The Grand General is pleased to receive you. Please follow” Said the servants expecting that the chemist would come alone. They walked through the halls and corridors of the grim palace until they arrived to the dining room were the one of the maids was expecting Singed but not his consort even the less she didn’t showed any sign of curiosity or disrespect. "The Grand General will be with you shortly. He bids us apologize that he was unable to receive you himself." After that she offered drinks to Singed and his partner. "May I fill your drinks?" She said indicating the collection of alcohol. “A Bourbon would be nice”
Caerys disembarked from the carriage, now made up and dressed up to Singed’s expectations but still within her own tastes. Once her feet touched the stone pavement, she took a few moments to adjust to her heels, the things giving her a height boost- necessary, given Singed’s height accentuated by his skinny build.
She looked about the great castle exterior, genuinely awed by the structure. She clung to Singed’s arm, partially because of balance reasons, and because it was only appropriate in the situation. She looked at the servants who had greeted them-indeed it was a welcome change not to be looked down on, especially with her collar hidden by a gold necklace and a red silk scarf to boot. They were received by the Hold’s own servants, and led them into the heart of the palatial abode.
Accustomed to pain and uncomfortable attire, she walked down the lavishly decorated corridors without a complaint, her expression one of distant aloofness, a face she’s seen Sylvia Monteclaire make hundreds of times. She even deigned to speak up, her speech coated with a drop of Monteclaire’s own speech.
“Lead the way then. We would not wish to keep the General waiting.” She said, a hint of Sylvia’s own speech in her voice. Confidence and determination replaced naivety and innocence. Caerys and her partner were finally ushered into the vast dining hall, taking a seat after Singed had seated, and her stomach did complete topsy-turvy tumbling in her abdomen.
She was a gladiatrix with next to no fat in her body, which meant a very strict diet and almost never knowing the feeling of being filled. Hunger momentarily got the best of her, as Caerys looked at the food she had always looked at in the Monteclaire estate yet could never touch- she composed herself once a servant approached them about their drinks.
“Oh... I’ll take a glass then.” She said, though having little intention to drink. She composed herself and helped herself to the appetizer, placing some cold cuts on the hard noxian bread slice, and topping with a sour cheese... it had to be enough until supper was properly underway, and everyone else was eating. The acting and speaking parts were easy- not looking like a starved animal was the hard part.
She looked around at the other guests already present... she didn't recognize them, but given where they were she knew instinctively they were all important and powerful figures. She felt particularly odd from seeing Viktor, his augmented nature reminding her of Zaun's scientific endeavors...
Many minutes went by and still their host had yet to arrive, nor send any word of when his presence would be upon hem. Viktor, ever a symbol of progress and opposed to stagnation, was growing more and more restless with each passing second. He wouldn't eat any of the food laid before him and the others, he neither needed nor desired any of it, and he simply wanted to get to the point of this pointless presentation. His mind was on that was meant to pave the way for the future, to engineer the most exotic and brilliant designs that this world could ever dream of, he was an inventor and a techmaturgist, not fit for political or social endeavors. He had work to do, he didn't see the value in spending his time needlessly entertaining the charade of civility and formality.
However, that was when the Mad Chemist finally made his appearance, with some......concubine in tow. Viktor couldn't determine what, if any, relation she had to Singed, but she was indubitably the chemist's company for the night.
"You do your brilliance a great injustice, Singed, by arriving at so late a time."
Viktor addressed his fellow Champion from Zaun with little to no respect, which was due to the sheer immensity of his indignation at being kept from doing what he was meant to. Hostile was no his usual temperament, however, and was only a sign of his disregard for the things he considered inane and futile.
Post by Chairman Magnus Dunderson on Feb 27, 2013 0:40:22 GMT -5
“Uneventful thank you” Magnus was aware of Girard Laurentine one of Swains supporters his presence on the meeting wasn’t surprising what would be surprising was the gentleman that came after Laurentine none other than the machine herald who was known for being almost an hermit. Then after some time The chemist of Zaun came accompanied of a woman with an exuberant attire…would she be her concubine or something? Being late to a meeting wasn’t something that he would normally do…but bringing a…with him to? Maybe he had been outside of his lab for too much time after all Singed was an eccentric man that always needed of a form of entertainment to function.
Sometimes a man does not sell his soul for profit. Sometimes it’s just to not lose everything.
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 27, 2013 1:03:55 GMT -5
“Maybe I do but at the end had I arrived early it would had make little difference seeing that our host still isn’t here.” Singed replied calmly then he proceed to drink from his glass. “Anyone here knows when our host will show for the dinner?” Truth to be told Singed was still a little irritated by the speech that the grand general used to crow his triumph over the flame elemental. But he was ready to left that behind…later after all every scientist needs his recognition.
Post by Girard Laurentine III on Feb 27, 2013 1:44:25 GMT -5
Girard smiled towards the Zaunite Chairman. "That's good to hear." He replied as another guest entered the dining hall. It was none other than the Machine Herald himself. From what Girard knew, he was not exactly the type to come to political events, as Viktor preferred to tinker with some hextech machination or another in his laboratory back in Zaun. Why was the Herald here, then? Perhaps that would be revealed when the Grand General arrives....
Several minutes passed by before yet another guest arrived, another league champion and Zaunite, Singed. But he did not come alone...He brought a woman with him. Who was she... Her face stuck a chord in Girard's mind, but he could not think of where he remembered her from. Was she the Mad Chemist's mistress or something...? Perhaps a concubine? Singed was certainly rich enough to have one, and Girard wouldn't put it past the Chemist to do so. Still...This was not the sort of meeting to be bringing a +1 to.
Girard glanced around the room, hoping that he had merely overlooked the Grand General's presence. It would be very bad form to have the host of this gathering be overly late, and that was how the evening seemed to be turning out. Girard knew that Swain was not one to forget an appointment, however; The Grand General likely had some equally grand entrance planned for himself.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 27, 2013 3:04:23 GMT -5
As though on cue, a servant pushed open the carved double doors, bowed low to the entourage that followed, his gaze respectfully trained upon the carpet. The Grand General limped over the threshold, crimson gaze flitting over the assembled party, resting only briefly upon the one unbidden guest, calculating, cold. "Good evening," he said darkly. Cane in hand, he shuffled to his seat at the head of the table. Darius, Hand of Noxus, alighted in the dining hall behind him.
In their wake, four Raedsel followed: silent sentinels towering above the table, the eyes of their helms aglow in echo of their leader's. They took up their posts at the four corners of the room. A servant drew out the Grand General's chair and slowly, arduously, he lowered himself into it. The slightest grimace flickered over his face as he sat, but soon faded, replaced by his usual mask of polished civility. "I hope you've not been waiting long," he said, though his tone was more businesslike than apologetic.
A servant bustled in, bearing a case full of printed documents. "Lay it there," Swain commanded, indicating the table to his right. The servant did as he was told, bowed low, then strode from the room, never making eye contact, never speaking.
Blazing eyes scanned the room, lingering upon each guest in turn. Finally, they came to rest upon Singed's exquisitely dressed escort and the meager helping of her plate. "Don't be shy, madame," he addressed her directly. "Help yourself. There's more than enough for everyone." These final words were punctuated with a chilling look at Singed. The Grand General's face flashed briefly with grim admonishment--but just as swiftly as it appeared, the glare dissolved again into measured civility.
Post by The Hand of Noxus on Feb 27, 2013 17:33:30 GMT -5
Darius entered, dressed for the occasion in that of regal Noxian robe of black and dark green with golden trim upon it. It was unusual to see The Hand of Noxus without his axe or armor but was indeed possible for the figure that towered over Swain to look civil. Darius had no love for the Zaunite champions and at most tolerated them. How Zaun acted as an ally, though effective, left a rather unsavory taste within his mouth.
Silently, the stoic man took his place near the head of the table and his gaze moved upon their guest for the night. “My apologies for keeping you all waiting” He added after the Grand General spoke. Where Swain’s visage had fleeting bits of emotion here and there as he looked Singed and the servant, Darius was a blank slate. His eyes drifted over each of the guest for a moment.
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 27, 2013 19:50:50 GMT -5
Singed noticed Swains glare but didn’t paid any attention to it. “As always such a generous host but mind if I ask the motive of your lateness? Mind you I was the one that waited the less after your left-hand man but there are some persons on this dinner table that aren’t fans of waiting to get business done.” Singed said that on a civil tone of voice. “I know some of the points that will be discussed on this meeting but I’m sure that the other guests will appreciate if you could give them a resume of the many topics that will be discussed.”
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 27, 2013 22:10:33 GMT -5
The Grand General quirked a brow, incredulous at his guest's heedless remarks. He laid a gnarled hand over his case of parchment as though in indication of its relevant contents. "Unfortunately, the demands of running a country often put burdensome restraints upon one's time. It was not my intent to keep you waiting." He turned to Viktor and Chairman Dunderson. "We appreciate you making the journey. I've several commissions to discuss with you both--and, as the Chemist has likely informed you--we are gathered tonight to re-negotiate the terms of allegiance between our two great states."
Swain interlaced his fingers upon the table. At his shoulder, his ever-present familiar preened her ebon feathers. He never moved to fill his plate, despite the delicious bounty before him, despite the plethora of exquisite beverages and foodstuffs. Instead, he continued to address the party, now inscrutable behind his mask of politician's poise. "Times are changing. It would behoove us to tighten our bonds, our securities. To prepare for whatever the coming months may hold."
Beatrice finished preening and turned her unsettling crimson gaze upon the slave girl. She clicked her beak with semblant derision. Her master did not yet move to distribute the agenda folders.
Post by Alexis 'Mute' Lindser on Feb 27, 2013 22:49:58 GMT -5
Having taken her place a step behind Vivien, Alexis stood quietly, observing with not a trace of visible reaction as the dignitaries took their place. She looks to the lieutenant as one of them requests a drink, watching as she serves them, taking note of the protocol employed. As she'd said- open the wine and pour it at the table, so as to foster trust.
After Vivien goes to get the white wine for the apparent general, Alex takes the chance of stepping forward, and pouring two fingers of bourbon for the Mad Chemist. She keeps her eyes carefully away from his face, despite her curiosity- none of it would show in her expression or her posture; she had been well-trained.
It was when the Master Tactician walked in that something changed in her demeanor. Whether it was the straightening of her posture, the slight widening of her eyes as they were fixed on the carpet, or something nearly-undetectable... well, it was difficult to tell. An entire life spent in verbal silence had taught her how to control her body language, almost to a fault, but it would be clear to an expert that she hadn't expected to encounter him so soon.
The only indication of her nerves, as she stands against the wall, is her hands- they smooth down her modest black skirt, before returning to their place behind her back.
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