Old August 27, 2009, 07:58 AM   #1 (permalink)
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[Event - Tempris Ball] The Insides of the Manor

Continued from here.



The Manor was where those who sought to delight in the collection of the Baron, be it his porcelain ware, artefacts and weapon collection would gather. In small circles of people, the guests were allowed to explore his manor less his private chambers, taking in the rich Eunesian decorations, famed columns and varied elaborately decorated columns.

Lord Leonardo Termini and the renowned artist Lord Fianpian of Secyclion were amongst the few who were moving from room to room, looking over the latest acquisitions of the Baron while being continuously served by retinues serving wine pushed on trolleys following behind them.

Ex-Admiral Spanakopita, the former admiral of the Olympian Defiance Fleet was in one of these rooms filled with paintings of the ships the famed Eunesian galleries. There was a particular scene of significance known as the 'Battle of the High Seas' where Eunesian Cutters had once decimated the Arium Navy during the budding Eras of the Third Empire, an event that forced the then Empress Alyssa to recognize Eunesia's provincial rights in her new realm.

He remembered a time when ships were grand and sailed on seas proudly, when sailors and seamen rode and brave the waters defending their homes. He tried to go back to relief those moments, but all he could see insofar was him laboring his youth on the seas fighting pirate scums so that the fattened merchants could sail without being molested. They had become irrelevant in this new world order, and it confused and disorientated him. He had been feeling this way for Eras now, ever since his decision to retire.

Several Jaedaxians, always so recognizable from their accents were also amongst the crowd, drinking up all the painting, marveling at the Secyclion paint and vibrancy that they can somehow implement in their own artforms, noticing that the neo-classicism of their style was similar to those of old Pedaian artisans, yet the bright colors revealed a revolution of the Romantic movement that had it's birthplace in Jaedaxia.

In another one of those rooms stood Senya Uth Chalice, a third tier Sorcreress. She was a former member of the Rakrya, and the presence of members of the Royal Court simply reminded her of her disconnection with this new reign. Her Queen, Kenasoya was gone, disappeared. Julos the Mad was no more. It had only been a few Eras since his tyranny had been declared officially over, and already people had forgotten he had ever existed.

The Kingdom had moved on, and it had left people like Senya, like Spanakpita behind.
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Old September 3, 2009, 11:15 AM   #2 (permalink)
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It was always a little worrisome to one degree or another when Master Gwygwin wandered off without a chaperone. Rosemen wondered, Master Ulairi worried just a little, Milo pondered and asked just who it was who’d taken their eye off the eccentric old man long enough for him to stray on any given whim. With so many dignitaries present there was ample opportunity for the man to say or do something impulsive, embarrassing or untoward if not necessarily dangerous and it was wisdom that tracked him down, sooner rather than later.

”I’ll find him myself,” Milo had declared after giving Nell a kiss on the cheek and a smile, it shouldn’t be difficult or a lengthy process considering that raspberry scrap balanced rakishly atop the old man’s head. Besides, his legs could use a good stretch. Master Ulairi, Sir James and a few of his fellows came along and failing to find the man straight away, the group found itself trailing into the manor itself in time. And still no elusive sorcerer in sight. Unbeknownst to the search party the old man had circled back and joined Her Royal Highness in the gardens with a plateful of sweets…and oysters on the half shell, in his hand, and without them so much as spotting him along the way.

Still, the manor had been the most likely destination, the old wizard was known for his liking for art, even if his taste was an eccentric and curious thing given to abstract in its extremes. Nonetheless it was painted renderings that most often called to the Sorcerer so naturally the group found themselves trailing in as well in search of him, confronted with walls full of seascapes full of ships and battles and a lone man seeming by his expression and posture to be reliving his brightenings of glory.

No Gwygwin, but had Rioughe come along he’d have enjoyed spending quite a bit of time in this gallery, Milo thought. As for himself, the very sight of so many ships floating on so much rolling and undulating water made him queasy and on the verge of a mild case of seasickness. Curious that travel by air caused no similar symptoms and he smiled and cleared his throat, so not to catch the fellow by surprise from behind. ”Good evening sir. I wonder if you’ve spied an elderly gentleman pass through, he’d have been wearing a bright pink hat. He seems to have been…temporarily misplaced.”
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Old September 10, 2009, 09:37 AM   #3 (permalink)
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Milo L'Evienne

The man the Prince had greeted himself was none other than Keyx Spanakopita the formal Admiral of Olympia's Defiance Fleet. He was wrapped in militaristic livery. With a smart cummerbund over his feyenella. Badges and medals of his office of past merits were meticulously pinned on his top white tunic with a velvet green and gold jacket worn over his impressively broad shoulders. The lines on his face were indicative of the long Brightenings spent under the harsh sun that had accentuated his golden skin.

"My Prince." His accent was clearly Eunesian and wasn't entirely unfamiliar to the man who had grew up in Ieffreon, and sounded even deeper and... clearly Olympian. He placed a hand on his abdomen and another on his back as he bowed as only one formerly in the military could -- back perfectly straight and making an angle before coming back straight up.

"I'm afraid I haven't seen such persons wandering these Halls." An apologetic smile on the elderly man's face. He couldn't be five Eras older than the Sovereign Sire himself; and the fall of entirely snow white hair had a rather regal look to him, matching his green and gold tunic Eunesian jacket he wore. His hat was of Eunesian designs, and it was clear that every article on his back had been clearly tailored and worn in a manner that belayed his style for functionality over the aesthetics.

Another look was given to Milo, with a smile that came up as a twitch, the smile wasn't familiar; given how the man was not inclined to smiling. He just had this look; the look bred and cultivated over Eras spent in a rigid, militaristic system that demanded respect -- a 'no nonsense' kind of man. Time, a wife and children and now grandchildren had tampered that stern demeanor somewhat, but those who had been touched by war would never be able to shake the effects of such; and it was etched over his face like an acid attack.

The picture before him was one of importance to the Eunesians -- in fact there had been a celebration designed around the event. It was known other than the same War that had forced Empress Alyssa to recognize Eunesia as a province, and to revoke Arium's provincial rights over the Eunesian Islands as a provincial territory. The Defiance Fleet had, united under the Eunesian Federation Assembly decimated the Arium war galleries with the swift maneuvering Cutters despite being outnumbered. From there onwards, the skill and boatmanship of the Eunesians had become unparalleled in the annals of maritime warfare.

"You don't remember me anymore, do you?" The man smiled, and there was something familiar in that grin; like ambition and pride all balled into one. There was something awfully familiar about the man of course; reminisce of keyx cups and powerful Ouzo and the strange, aromatic flavors of Arakmatan cigars. Of course, that had been Eras ago, when Rioughe himself had been a young man and Spanakopita himself only a Captain. He had risen quick amongst the ranks of the Naval fleets, and long retired before Milo himself became the Regent and then Prince.

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Old September 17, 2009, 10:16 AM   #4 (permalink)
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Despite a manner of dress found nowhere else in the Kingdom, there was no denying the man he’d stumbled across in search of his ever elusive mage was of a military leaning. More specifically, of the sea going variety. He seemed vaguely familiar somehow. Not his features so much as the way he squared his shoulders when upright or doubled over into a smart bow, the timbre of his voice when he spoke, the particular slant of his smile, even the faint scent that lingered round him. Not unlike the aroma that lingered after his own father in palace halls, but Rioughe favored a different blend.

Milo smiled curiously when the man straightened and he acknowledged the bow with a dip of his head, his efforts to place this fellow temporarily diverted by the matter of the missing Master Gwygwin. ”It’s no matter, he’ll turn up sooner or later I’m sure,” he assured the proud and weathered gentleman and his own smile went crooked by default and inheritance as he took a second glance at the busy seascape aside of him. Now that he’d taken another look he recognized the scene, a lithograph reproduction of it in the palace's Soldier's Chapel.

The man as a result came all the more familiar to him and Milo smiled curiously. Stories of the sea and tales of seafaring battles, he’d spent many a night on his pallet beneath the cabin window on Ieffreon’s shore or slipped out into the shadows of the dunes, listening to the voices trailing up from the beach on the breeze while Rioughe entertained longtime friends and strays alike under the moonlight and next to a roasting pit in the sand. Laughter, bottles, cigars and tall tales, these were more familiar than the actual faces that went with them.

He smiled then as it struck him, even while Spanakipita presumed otherwise. ”I think I just might sir,” he said, and his smile quirked into something of a grin and he ventured while offering his hand in a firm grip, ”Admiral Spanakopita, yes? I was very young then but I remember. As I recall you were always good for tales of the high seas, even if you weren’t aware I was eavesdropping and Rioughe, under the mistaken assumption that I was sound asleep in my bed.”
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Old October 1, 2009, 10:47 AM   #5 (permalink)
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Milo L'Evienne

"The one and only. You have a good memory. Though... retired. I left the Defiance Fleet some Eras back." He seemed pleased that Milo remembered his name, though as he recounted his tenure briefly with once the most powerful Navy of the Northern Reaches, his face fell dark, as if he was embittered by his retirement. Whether it had been an honorable or dishonorable discharge, it was unknown, though as Milo continued and mentioned about Spanakipita's penchant for storytelling and his many over-embellished tales, he merely appeared surprise, clearly not aware that the then, young boy had been listening to the two men.

"Were you now? Rioughe always claimed that his son was going to be destined for bigger things... if only he knew of the power of his tongue." There was a slight smile, as if he was now savoring the memory of the Sovereign Sire. Rioughe likely haven't mentioned Spanakipita in recent Eras, even if in Milo's memories, they had been extremely close friends before. The reason for their eventual drifting apart was unknown, though if Milo wished to find out, he would surely be able to find some way to figure it out from the ex-Admiral.

"We never did suspect we had a little eavesdropper, no... some of those conversations we had... weren't exactly suitable for a child..." A wry smile, even if there was no shame in that voice -- indeed, it seemed that whatever manner of man he was, Spanakipita was not one who would ever feel shame, so proud and confident in all his lineaments that it bled through every pore of his being into the air; even if he did spoke of womenly comforts with the known Casanova-turn-Sovereign-Sire of this Brightening.

"And how is your father? It had been many Eras since we last met." His voice was cool, and there was a crinkling of the skin around his eyes as he asked; a bit of nostalgia in his voice that was fairly traceable.

There was a kind of sadness that Milo could get from the man, the way he seem to seek perfection -- perfection unattainable -- and thus that deep sorrow. He seemed the kind of man that had been to war, and had been fundamentally altered by it -- those men who went through something so painful and agonizing that they left part of them behind.

Around them, the soft murmur of voices fill the chambers of the Baron as people moved about, their footsteps ghosting across the expensively marbled grounds that were of traditional Eunsian make.
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